I woke up.

I wasn't really asleep, but rather just refused to open my eyes for around half an hour. Only now did I gain enough composure to lift up the covers mounted on my face and see reality clearly once again.

Looking back, I did manage to finally strike up a proper conversation. It might have been short, but I got my point across. I was able to converse with another human. Even if the nervous breakdown from the aftermath toppled over my spirit, I can confidently say that I did a good job for my first real human-to-human conversation in quite a while.

I took a deep breath. Then I got up and out of the bed, ready to restart my day.

Before I even got the chance to start thinking about what to do for the day, the grumbling of my stomach reminded me of something. The food, it was still outside and probably stone cold by now.

I walked to the front door. Looking at it now, I feel quite calm, to say the least. Whenever I approached the door in the past, sweat always dripped across my forehead, and my arms usually seemed like they had been placed in the freezer for quite a while. Nevertheless, going outside is still an impossibility.

I calmly grasped the doorknob and twisted it open. Of course, I wouldn't open the door wide, just ajar so I could see the delivered food on the floor, but I didn't grab it right away.

I stared outside for a moment: the trees, the birds, the sky—they all seem a bit more gorgeous to me today. The sun beamed across the landscape, casting shadows all over. It was bright, warm, and vibrant, and I would have definitely scorned it for intruding into my life, but oddly enough, I didn't mind it today.

With a new record for the longest time my door had been opened, even if just slightly, I decided that it was enough for today and grabbed the food delivery before closing and locking the door.

I bought quite a lot this time—7 servings of Chinese fried rice to be exact, and most importantly, I also ordered just as many cans of soda to finally complete the meal. I stocked my fridge with the newly bought sustenance and proceeded to eat breakfast.

After eating on the kitchen floor, I threw the container in the trash when I noticed something. From the open garbage bag, I could count four containers of Chinese fried rice, including the one I recently threw away. One is from lunch yesterday, then one from dinner, that one is the one I just threw, and the last one is from... oh, the girl, the one that I gave her. Who knew ghosts had proper etiquette to throw away their trash properly.

But wait, if the trash is here, that would mean that she did eat it, and that she left the closet. But when was it? Most likely, it was during the night when I was asleep. Paying no further attention to the trash, I drank the cola and threw it away as well, thus ending today's breakfast.

I had the sudden urge to stretch, and with it, a yawn escaped my mouth, followed by a burp. Even if I had just rested thanks to my breakdown, I was still tired for some reason. Maybe I was still tired because of what happened earlier, or eating might have induced drowsiness in me, despite the soda containing some caffeine.

Whatever the reason was, I needed to get rid of it quickly in order to finally get on with my day. Even if I will die in a few days, I still want to be a bit productive, even if the extent of my productivity is reading. Sleeping all day might seem like heaven, but it would be a waste to do so, since I would definitely get all the sleep I want when I die. After all, death is an eternal slumber, or maybe not if reincarnation or heaven are a thing.

But nevertheless, I will surely gain peace after my death, no matter what afterlife awaits me—just not hell, hopefully. I may be suicidal, but at least I haven't done anything heinous enough to plunge my soul into the abyss of hell, or is suicide one of the tickets to hell? If it is, then I'm fucked. Guess I'll just deal with it when I get there.

I headed to the bathroom and proceeded to wash my face in the sink to wake me up.

"What the fuck?" I spoke out loud. Looking in the mirror, I saw myself. Nothing was out of the ordinary except for the large, bold "FRIENDS" written on my forehead. I immediately turned on the faucet again and drenched my face, scrubbing as hard as I could with my hands.

"What the hell is this!? Marker!?" I scrubbed as hard as I could with my hand, but seeing that it was doing almost nothing, I switched to a wet towel instead. Little by little, it was rubbing off, but the more I scrubbed, the more red my forehead became, which was synonymous with my anger.

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"Who the fuck did this!?" I screamed in my head. Obviously, it was that stupid girl.

Even in death, people are annoying, especially children. I fully regret giving her that serving of Chinese fried rice. Children like her should be heavily disciplined and trapped in a cage known as a baby crib.

Where the hell did she get a marker from in the first place? Did she grab it from one of my drawers? If so, that would explain why my slippers were out when I woke up. All she needed to do was depart to the afterlife peacefully, but instead of a thank you for the food that I gave her, she instead left me with a boiling anger and a headache.

Looking back, if I had opened the door to face the food delivery guy, he would have seen my vandalized forehead, which would have been so embarrassing that I would have rushed outside and jumped off the building immediately. Although this is only the third floor, if I perfectly land on my head, then it would be an immediate death. If only I wasn't scared of heights, then I would definitely do this instead of death by hanging. After a few more scrubs, the marker finally vanished, but my anger remained.

A re-read of one of my favorite books should be enough to cool my head, so I went back to my living room. I went up to my bookshelf, but something was odd. A book was missing, the same exact one that I was thinking about re-reading. My anger was still there, but now there was an added annoyance and confusion. Where could it have gone? I know that I'm a messy person just from one glance at my room, but at least I am organized when it comes to my books. Even if the shelf is overflowing with books, and that there are piles of them on the floor, each one of the piles is organized by genre and author.

Going back to my search, I scratched my head in confusion as I looked around. Suddenly, my entire body froze. From the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar presence. An almost translucent shade of white as vibrant as snow, a frail and small structure, and an otherworldly air surrounding it. It was the girl, she was still here. She sat on my chair with her tiny head resting on the desk. How did I not see her earlier? She was right there in plain sight, but I failed to spot her numerous times, even when I was fully aware of every detail of my apartment. I approached her, annoyance still fully visible on my face as I remembered what she did to my forehead.

Even though my social skills are close to zero, and a simple non-face-to-face conversation could send me breaking down, I tapped her on the shoulder to wake her up. There was something about her that doesn't trigger my social trauma, maybe it's because of the huge age difference, or maybe it's because she's dead. Whatever it is, I am confident that I could speak to her, even if only with short replies. Actually, I feel like I could burry her with my rant of annoyance because of her actions.

She didn't reply, moreover, she didn't even move an inch. I tapped her head this time, applying a bit more force. Still no reply.

"What a heavy sleeper." I muttered.

I took a closer look at her, and another thing added to my annoyance. I found the missing book, and she had it. She was laying her head on it, which was an absolute mockery of the book. Even if some of my books are on the ground, I treat each one of them with love and care. But there she is, disrespecting the books that I care so much about, and she didn't even ask permission to read it.

"What a brat." I muttered, annoyance visible in my tone.

I sighed. When I finally thought that I could relax because she was gone, she just appeared out of nowhere and became more of a burden now.

To try and salvage my day from this annoying prick, a nice bath should do the trick, or at least lessen my stress. I walked to the closet to grab a change of clothes, but suddenly, I palmed my face and groaned. Inside the closet was the familiar scenery of messy piles of clothes, everything was as usual, except for the specks of Chinese fried rice that were scattered across everything.

How the hell did I not notice this earlier? It was plain as day that my closet was trashed more than it already was, yet I didn't notice it when I first opened it today. Before I could react even more, I got a quick glance at the floor and noticed something. There was rice on the floor as well, goddammit.

But wait, it didn't stop there. The more I look at every individual grain of rice, the more I realize that it formed a trail that spanned across my room. I followed the trail, which led me to the kitchen and ended at the pile of garbage bags. I looked up, took a deep breath, and formulated my conclusion. Not only was the girl a sloppy eater, but she's bloody clumsy as well.

Despite my fists fully clenched as if they were ready to hit something or someone to a bloody pulp, I sat down on the kitchen floor and tried to calm myself down.

My face was vandalized and bloody red from being scrubbed, my book was taken out of its home without permission and now serves as a pillow, my closet was trashed, there is a trail of rice that needs to be cleaned up, and my clothes probably reek of oil from the rice. What a day to be alive.

I've had enough of this nonsense. I can't bear another act of misconduct from that child. She could have just behaved and stayed in that closet, but now she had overstepped her boundaries and became more of a burden than I am.

I'm a shut-in, a disgrace to society, and should be locked up in a dark place, isolated from the common folk. People like me are generalized as awkward, dirty, smelly, and every other negative generalization that the normies associate people like me with. But as of now, I see her as more of a problem than I am.

I stood up, and with a slightly calmed mind, I made a decision.

I must get rid of her.