As Yasmine let out a blood curdling scream of terror, stumbling back from the voice that came from seemingly nowhere, she tripped back over a large box.

“AH!”

She let out a yelp of surprise as she fell back, landing on her back and getting the wind knocked out of her. Feeling the inability to breathe, she winced, trying to suck in another breath. Momentarily, she was distracted from what made her trip in the first place. That was until the voice spoke up again. This time sounding right above her.

“Oh shoot, are you alright!?” they said, sounding concerned. The horrible chill that wracked her body somehow forced her lungs to finally suck in another gasp of breath, just so she could scream it out again.

“Ghost!” Yasmine shrieked, scrambling on all fours, knocking over more boxes around her in a desperate attempt to get away from the ghost. She knew that there had to be a catch, nothing ever worked out perfectly for her. There was always something that ruined her plans. But even she couldn’t have ever expected a friggin’ undead to be haunting her grandfather’s old home.

“H-hey, hey now, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt ya!” the voice said as it followed the small girl who was moving like a wild animal towards the door.

“Get away from me!” she screamed again as she desperately rushed to get out the still open door. Finally, she managed to push herself up to her feet, making a mad dash for the door. She was only a few feet from freedom, where she could leave and escape this haunted house. She would find a priest or an exorcist. Hell, maybe one of those cheesy paranormal investigators. Just someone to get rid of this thing. But yet, it was not to be.

The door suddenly slammed shut right in front of her face. Yasmine’s eyes bulged as the way out was closed before her. A bigger problem was that she was running at full speed, and there was no feasible way to stop so suddenly. The last thing she remembered was her body slamming into the solid oak door her grandfather had made himself out of a large tree that used to be on the property. Her head hit the door with a loud THWACK, sending her glasses flying off and her vision went black.

“Oh shi-!” the ghost said as he watched the petite woman slam into the door as he shut it. He watched as Yasmine’s body started to fall backward, out cold. With supernatural speed, he swooped behind her and caught her body as it fell. It took a lot of focus and effort to interact with the living, but this came naturally to him as his instinct to protect her ran strong.

He slowly lowered her to the carpeted floor till she was lying flat. As he looked down at Yasmine, he couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. His ghostly eyes stared down at her, her soft round face, slightly pouty lips, and the smattering of freckles that ran like a strip across the bridge of her nose, came together to make a lovely visage. Her dark chocolate hair was tied into twin braids, with several strands shooting out in all directions as they escaped the loose braids.

“Focus, Matt, she has a dang head injury,” he chided himself as he looked around and spotted a throw pillow on the couch. As Matt reached out his arm towards the pillow, it was surrounded by a ghostly energy. A moment later, it shot towards him. Catching it, he gently lifted Yasmine’s head and then rested it on the pillow.

The spot where her forehead smacked into the door was already starting to swell, and a large red mark was surrounding a small cut. Matt felt completely awful for shutting the door on her like that. But he couldn’t let her leave, not without explaining his situation and speaking with her. He hadn’t gotten an answer before she started freaking out, but he was almost certain that this was Yasmine Roberts, Jebidiah Robert’s granddaughter. It had been so many years that he hadn’t really recognized her at first.

“I’m so sorry, Yazzie,” he whispered to her and let out a heavy sigh. Of course, she was going to freak out. He was a ghost. Even if she couldn’t see him, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be scared. He floated up from where he had been sitting next to Yasmine and made his way into the kitchen. Matt grabbed a baggie and a paper towel and then opened the freezer. Taking several cubes from an ice tray, he filled up the baggie and wrapped it in the paper towel.

He floated back to where the girl he scared half to death lay and lowered himself down again. Gently, he pressed the makeshift ice pack to the bump on her head. As he watched her lay there, chest slowly rising and falling, he couldn’t help but notice just how much she had grown. She was no longer the tiny little girl who would come visit every summer. She was an adult now, and even though she may have forgotten him, he did not forget her.

He easily remembered the last time she came to visit. It had been at least ten years at this point, at least the last time she had talked to him. Really, it felt more like she was talking to herself at that time. It was not a memory he enjoyed thinking about.

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A twelve year old Yasmine stood in the middle of the spare room she always stayed in when she stayed for the summer. She looked around the room like she was searching for something that might tell her what she wanted. Monty had promised to only show up if she asked him to. To make sure he never startled her and give her the comfort of control. If she wanted to be alone, he would leave her be. If she wanted to play a game or just talk, he was happy to keep her company. She frowned deeply now, though. He had been her best friend every summer up until this point. But things were changing, and she was growing up.

“Umm, Monty, I don’t know if you are there, but…” Yasmine said quietly. “I’m… we… my family, is moving far away. Mom says I won’t be spending summer here anymore either. I told her that I didn’t want to stop. That I wanted to keep coming back to see you and Grandpa…” The preteen shook slightly like she was struggling to get everything out. With a sniff, she continued. “She told me I need to stop acting like…like you are real and I need to start growing up. I tried telling her that you are real, that you aren’t just imaginary. You may be a ghost, but you are also my best friend, Monty… I don’t want to lose you… I don’t wanna move away.”

Yasmine let out a hiccup as she wiped away a tear from her eye, sniffling again. He had only ever been kind and gentle with her. He was happy to spend his afterlife entertaining her, even if she was just a kid.

“I told them that I would prove that you were real. That you would come out and show them. T-then m-maybe you can come with us? I am sure that you would be happy living with us. Then we can keep playing together forever.”

It was a childish dream that would never come true, no matter what she did or said, in more ways than just the obvious.

As Yasmine stood there, waiting for a response, more tears started to fall. “Monty? A-are you there? Please… say something, anything,” she sobbed out, looking around the room even more.

Monty was there, but he could not respond to her. He could see the writing on the wall. It was time for Yasmine to grow up and live without him. He had probably done too much already. There was only one option left, and it was one he never wanted to use but knew it was inevitable. If he wanted a chance at a peaceful existence and for her to be happy, she would have to forget him, forget everything she knew about what he really was.

A ghostly hand was suddenly placed on the small child’s head. She spun around to look up at her friend's ghostly figure. She smiled for a moment as she saw his familiar button-up shirt, neat slacks, and hair styled to the side with a messy flair. His entire being was easily visible, especially in the light. Her smile quickly vanished when she saw the deep frown on his face.

“Monty?” she questioned, wondering what he was doing as he kept his hand on his head. He gave the small girl a flash of a smile.

“Thank you for calling me a friend, Yazzie. I’ll miss you.”

With his words, Yasmine's eyes suddenly glassed over, and she fell into a trance. Her arms, which were wrapped around herself, fell limp to her side.

Monty grit his teeth as he used every ounce of energy he had to alter her memories. His ghostly visage started to flicker and waver as he began to disappear from the feet up. All the energy he had saved up for over thirty years was being used in a few short moments. He let out a groan as he felt himself weakening. Slowly but surely, Monty started to fade into the ether. Nothing but a floating head now, the same small, somber smile stayed on his face, knowing he was doing the right thing.

As a final moment passed, Monty vanished into nothing.

“Goodbye Yazz…ie-.” His final words were nothing more than a quiet whisper that was carried away by an ethereal wind.

Yasmine stood there motionless for several more seconds before snapping out of her trance. She looked around, blinking several times, confusion spread across her face.

“W-what am I doing in here?”

She recognized the room she had spent all those lonely summers in. It had just been her and her grandpa for the last four summers. But for some reason, she always looked forward to coming here even though she had all these memories of playing by herself in the room.

“Yasmine, how are things going in there, sweetheart?” the voice of her father called out.

“Umm, fine… I think,” she said, rushing to the door. She opened it to reveal her father waiting there for her. She quickly wrapped her arms around his large waist, squeezing him tight. The overwhelming desire to be held filled her.

"Everything alright?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back softly. She nodded against him, still squeezing tight.

“Were you able to say your goodbyes?” he asked, much more accepting of this imaginary friend of hers than her mother. Yasmine looked up at him in confusion.

“To grandpa? No, he’s still in the living room, right? I’ll do it now!” she said, quickly releasing him and then running off to give her grandpa a big hug goodbye. Her father watched with a raised brow but shrugged as it seemed his daughter was just fine now, even though she had been completely distraught earlier, ranting about how she would miss her ghost friend and she would get him to prove he was real. Though he agreed she was a bit old to have an imaginary friend, especially one that was a ghost. It was a little creepy, to be honest.

He figured that she must have gotten her closure and was ready to move on. Her father looked into the empty room for a moment or two and smiled before walking back into the living room to rejoin his family, where his wife and daughter were saying their goodbyes to his dad.

Yasmine’s Imaginary friend wasn’t gone, only reduced to nothing but a sliver of ghostly energy. Nothing more than a wisp of light, waiting and biding its time till it could once again take human shape.