I woke up.

In my dazed state, I could faintly hear the doorbell ring, which was the reason for my awakening. I'm sort of agitated because of this since someone dared to interrupt me from my peace, but I'll forgive them for now, as long as they are the food delivery person.

I got up and stretched my arms up in the air. I feel quite refreshed, more energized than last night's slumber. I got a quick glance at my phone and realized that I only napped for around an hour and a half or so.

With more energy than ever, I slowly walked towards the door and waited. Just like always, I waited for a minute or so until I was confident enough that the food delivery person, or whoever was out there, had already left.

Afterward, I got down on the ground and creaked open the door, but then I heard a voice. It wasn't the ghostly voice of the girl last night, but rather voices coming from outside, my neighbors. I can hear three elderly women, or what I assume to be elderly as their voices were sort of adult sounding, and only the elderly would chat openly outside in this apartment complex.

I quietly closed the door. I couldn't grab the food outside, because this would mean that I would need to open the door just enough for me to be able to grab it. But there was a problem. Sometimes, my door would creek, which sort of sounded like a rusty gate being forced to swing open. Last time, I was confident enough to open it as there was no one around, but now, people were outside, and I'm positive that they were close enough to be able to hear my door swing open. I couldn't risk it, and knowing my luck, the door would obviously betray me and creak as loud as it could.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn't wait for another second as my hunger from a few hours ago had returned and weighed heavy on my deprived stomach, quickly draining the energy that I just gained from my nap.

I had one last option. I got down on the floor and eyed the miniature door of some sort that was built into the door. It was a doggy door.

I remained seated there, frozen in place.

I could recall a few moments of happiness whenever I opened this door, but now, all I get from seeing it is sadness. A heavy feeling weighed me down as I looked at the doggy door. Never again, I said to myself once. I will never again open this door because I didn't want to recall those past memories and since I didn't have any need to open it ever again, until now.

I took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I'm alright now. It's been two months already," I mumbled to myself.

With my shaking hands, I undid the lock and slowly pushed open the small door.

It opened outward and almost pushed over the plastic bag, which would have made a noise if it had. I didn't even bother glancing at the outside world. The only thing that my eyes focused on was the plastic bag that held my sustenance for the day. With my other hand, I quickly reached outside, grabbed the bag, and pulled it inside. Then, I closed the doggy door and locked it once again.

It was a success. I now had food and my presence wasn't noticed by the people outside. I happily walked over to the fridge and placed the entire plastic bag inside. It contained three servings of Chinese fried rice, which was arguably my second or maybe third favorite food. One serving for lunch, one for dinner, and the other for breakfast tomorrow. I opened the bag while it was in the fridge and grabbed a serving, together with the plastic spoon that it came with.

My stomach growled again, so I happily stuffed my face right there and then in the kitchen. I sat on the floor and devoured it in a mere minute.

It was quite delicious, but not as delicious as compared to sushi. This one was a tad too oily for my liking, but it was decent enough. I got up and threw the empty container in a random garbage bag.

A drink would have been nice, but because of my forgetfulness, I didn't realize that I hadn't ordered a drink to go with my food. With a slight disappointment, I grabbed a glass cup from the sink and filled it with the worst type of drink, tap water. It isn't bad, but It's just the least appealing for me since I grew up drinking purified water, but I mostly drank juice or soda with every meal. I only started to drink tap water recently, because I ran out of bottled water some time ago. The only time I can order a drink is whenever I buy food delivery since ordering just a single drink and having someone deliver such a small item would be sort of terrible. I know that many people do this, but I just can't force myself to inconvenience someone with such a task. I could order water in bulk, but that would mean fully opening my door and carrying the heavy package inside, which is both a mentally impossible task for me and a hassle.

I drank the tap water while holding my breath, so as to not taste it, and placed the glass back on the sink.

A sigh escaped my mouth as I walked back to my living room.

I practically had nothing to do. There were no books to be read, nor any sort of activity to be done.

My life had been extended for a few more days but what could I use it for? Another reason why people kill themselves is because they can't do anything with their lives, but now that I have more than I initially planned, I simply can't think of anything to pass the time until my demise, that will hopefully not fail for a second time.

With nothing to do, I grabbed my phone and sat on my chair. I browsed my phone, mindlessly scrolling back and forth from my home screen in search of something to entertain my mind with.

I sighed again.

A quick glance at my bookshelves gave me quite an idea. If I've already read all of the books there, then I should simply read something new, something that will distract me for a few days. But there was one major problem, I had no way of getting new books. I could always order some online, but it will take a few days at least in order to arrive at my doorstep. I have my phone of course, but I simply hate reading online. The feeling of holding a physical copy, from the woody smell, the rough texture, and even the slight dangers of a paper cut, makes reading a physical book more appealing to me. Undoubtedly, reading through online means is more convenient, you could bring it anywhere, which a normal book can do, of course, but more practical since it can fit in your pocket. But the number one reason why online reading is more appealing for some people is because it's free. There are many titles online, and even if it is between a paywall, there are countless ways to bypass this, which is to put on your hats, raise the sails, and ready yourself because it's pirating time. I'm no advocate for this, but I do get why people do it. It's not necessarily bad, but it's not good either. For one, the author doesn't get their small share of the profit, undoubtedly most of the profit goes to the publishers, and there really isn't anything positive that comes from pirating, maybe your enjoyment from not emptying your pockets, but that's just about it.

I had no other choice on the matter. I opened a search engine, typed in book recommendations, and browsed away.

Upon browsing, one title piqued my interest a bit. It was a simple book, even a children's one at that. The Little Prince was the title, something that probably every English reader knows but not exactly read, and I am one of them. Since I had nothing to do and more free time than I knew what to do with, I leaned back and started to read. Actually, I didn't really need to sit on a chair to read, since it was on a phone and all, I could have laid on my bed and read there, but once I was comfortable in my position, even though my posture was a mess, I simply can't generate the urge to get up.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

About an hour passed, but I was only on page twenty. Normally, I could get through forty or maybe even fifty if the book's grammar was simple, but for some reason, my reading speed had plummeted. I didn't exactly know the reason why, maybe there was something that was weighing my mind down, or maybe there was something I was forgetting and trying to remember as I read the words in front of me, maybe the book wasn't appealing to me as much, which is something that rarely happens since I can basically enjoy any genre, be it BL or even the more niche ones, and I'm not too proud about this but I've even dabbled upon some fanfiction. Or maybe I'm just not in the mood. Whatever the reason was, I'm in no condition to enjoy my reading at this moment.

I turned off my phone and set it aside on my desk.

Now what do I do?

I sighed again, and incidentally, I got a quick whiff of myself. I'm not saying that I reek, but I don't exactly remember the last time I showered, heck I can't even remember the smell of soap.

Taking a bath would probably do me some good. I don't really know the science of it, but what I do know is that showering is quite good for the body, or so I thought. I've read some articles about it, but I'm not really quite sure what to believe. Some sources say that showering, particularly in scrubbing the body, actually removes the skin's oil and healthy bacteria, causing the skin to become dry and somewhat itchy. But that doesn't really matter to me. Be it irritation or cracked skin, I can tolerate both since my body is already screaming for help because I'm in it. But taking a bath does do some good, obviously, since it washes away the fatigue of my daily life, which is close to none, since what sort of fatigue could come from a life of lazing around and reading books?

I stood up and walked to the closet to fetch a change of clothes, but as I got closer, it felt quite off. I wasn't sure what it was, but it felt kind of cold for some reason. Paying no mind to this, I nonchalantly swung the closet door open.

The reason for the weird feeling had been answered immediately.

She was there, sitting there in the corner of the closet, surrounded by piles of clothes that had been lazily piled due to the lack of hangers. It was the girl, the same girl from my dream and from last night.

I didn't know what to do. I still don't believe in ghosts, but that might have changed a bit at this moment. I am undoubtedly awake right now. No sort of dream could emulate the chill in my spine as I stared at the girl. I have no choice but to accept that she is real, and still in my room.

She was asleep, or had been asleep, since my action of opening the closet door must have woken her up.

I began to panic, but this was when I formulated a last-second brilliant idea.

I could still see her, and I was definitely sure that she could see me, but what if I couldn't see her? Humans shouldn't normally see ghosts, but for some reason, I'm the exception, but what if I wasn't? I don't want to deal with people, much less the otherworldly, especially if it's a child. I don't want her to be in my almost-expiring life, and I don't want to be in her already-expired life. So, my genius idea is that I shall feign blindness, to pretend that I couldn't see her, even if she is right in front of me. Yes! that's the best option for an introverted social outcast like myself.

With her eyes closed, the girl stretched, much like what I do whenever I wake up, the only difference was that the cramped space of the closet restricted her actions. Then as she finally escaped her daze, she looked at me, or I assumed that she was looking at me, since what else was there to look at?

"Good morning, Mister," she said.

I stood there for a second, I was supposed to start my acting and reach for some clothing, but I stopped. Her voice, it was different. It was the same annoying high-pitched childish voice that I despise, but it seemed to have lost its vitality. It's as if all the enthusiasm from last night disappeared and left an empty shell of sadness in her voice.

Following my original plan, I grabbed a towel and a change of clothes. I even grabbed the t-shirt that was right next to her to further add to my facade. Which seemed to have worked, since all her movements had ceased, and she gave off a sort of confused air around her.

With my original goal of procuring a change of clothes accomplished, I closed the closet door and left the confused ghost of the girl inside my closet, which is a sentence that normally wouldn't cross my mind, due to it being very weird and illegal. Though I'm not exactly sure if the laws of the all-controlling government still apply to that of the otherworldly.

I sighed as I walked over to my bathroom. Rather than a sigh of disappointment or of a negative emotion, it was a refreshed sigh, since I was successful in my charade, and that the next thing that awaited me was the warm waters of my bathtub.

I entered the bathroom and locked the door on my way in. I then proceeded to turn on the faucet and allowed the soothing water to flow out and slowly fill my bathtub. A surge of warmth slowly filled the room, which was in the form of steam, and dissipated in the air.

While waiting for the tub to fill up, I needed to wash my body first, since it was a must before entering the divine sanctity of the bathtub. I poured water all over my body with a pail and bucket that was already filled to the brim with water from my previous bathing session, which was quite a while ago. The water was quite cold from it being there out in the open for a while, but not exactly displeasing. I scrubbed my body with soap and even shampooed my hair. I did in fact have a conditioner, and it was even next to the bottle of shampoo, but I couldn't be bothered to use it. I know that it provides countless benefits to my hair, like strengthening it, giving it a nice shine, and cleaning the germs and dandruff off my hair, which was something that mine really needed, since every time I move or even touch my hair, white particles, which was dandruff, snows down on the ground, which is absolutely disgusting. But I had no need to cleanse my body of dandruff, since in a few days, I would be moving on to hell or heaven, or reincarnated, whichever one you believe in. Though I'm not sure why I even shampooed my hair. Maybe it was out of habit or for peace of mind.

Whenever I finish bathing, or at least after I wash my body before I get in the bathtub, I usually fill up the bucket so I don't need to wait for it to fill up for my next bathing session. But there was no need to do it this time, since there will be no next time.

Having finished my preliminary bath, I slowly boarded the bathtub, dipping my left foot first. A surge of warmth seemed to envelop my body just from the first point of contact. The deeper in I went, the more I could feel myself melt from its pleasant heat, much like a slab of butter melting away as it sizzles in the pan.

"This might be heaven," I said to myself.

Bathing doesn't usually feel this pleasing, or maybe it might have been, I can't really remember if the past times are like this or not, heck I don't even remember when my most recent bath was.

What matters now is the present, since I won't really have a future. It is in my best interest to enjoy my last few days before I depart. But what could I do to make it actually enjoyable? With that girl in the closet weighing on my mind, I'm not exactly sure how I can focus on reading. Maybe continuing to pretend blind would be the best course of action, but I'm not really sure if it could work for the long term, or at least long enough before my death. For one, the girl could suddenly leave the closet and cause a disturbance, which could ruin my acting if whatever she does is severe enough. She could also just physically touch me with her ghostly extremities, which is quite odd considering ghosts can't normally do that, but now that I've thought of it, ghosts touching objects isn't really out of the realm of possibility, since all the knowledge we have on ghosts is all from preconceived knowledge or just plain imagination.

I doubt that anyone else has seen a ghost, or rather observed one in detail. I'm not saying I'm special or anything, but if I am then at least that's one thing I could be proud of before I die. What I'm saying is that all these years, if someone has already carefully examined a real ghost, then why isn't there detailed evidence of it? Sure there are countless claims online, but there really doesn't seem to be any consistency to them. You have the standard floating, passing through walls and such, but not even that is consistent since some sightings suggest that ghosts walk or crawl, heck some even say they fly like birds. Even passing through walls isn't consistent, since some folklore from other countries suggest that they can't go inside rooms unless there's an open entrance. But the most important reason is their appearance. Some say they look hideous and monstrous while some describe them to look like normal people, and some even say that they're the most beautiful entities they have ever gazed their eyes upon. In conclusion, it's all bullshit that people have come up with, which passed through many generations, resulting in different outlooks on ghosts.

Now that there is an actual ghost in my closet, a harmless one at that, I could probably use my remaining time in order to study such an entity, but that itself arises one problem, interaction. Observation is only the first step in a detailed study since there can only be so much that you can get from simply looking at the specimen. The next step would be to actually interact with it, to add another variable that could help in extracting knowledge that can't be gathered at a surface level. I'm not quite sure if I will do this, I most definitely won't since interaction is out of the question, but it's nice to imagine people praising me for discovering what a ghost truly is.

I sank deeper into the bathtub. Thinking about random things like this helps me relax. I'm not really sure if my thoughts make any sense, but I don't really care, since people can't judge me as long as I don't say these things out loud.

The room gradually moistened with steam which further added to its pleasant warmth. At one point during my thoughts, I had closed my eyes. I didn't realize it at first, but the combination of the cozy atmosphere, soothing waters, and ramble of my thoughts made me relax so much that I snoozed off in the bathtub.