Yasmine and Matt stood there facing one another, though one couldn’t really see the other. He had just revealed himself to her as from her perspective, a disembodied voice that somehow knew her name. The moment they shared standing there stretched a few seconds into what felt like a lifetime. Matt almost thought things were gonna work out, but as he watched the blood drain from her face he knew that the inevitable was about to happen.

“R-remember, you promised not to scream Yazzie.” Matt said, holding up invisible hands out of forced habit. The bottle of tylenol he was holding shot out with his hands as well. It took him forever to relearn how to act human, and now he couldn’t help himself even if he wasn’t corporeal anymore.

Yasmine was indeed about to scream, even if she promised she wouldn’t. He was a friggin’ ghost, after all, some evil specter haunting her grandfather’s home. As it was about to escape her throat, she heard a nickname that almost no one called her anymore. It gave her a sudden pause and kept her from screaming for just a split second. Only her mother dared to slip in that nickname anymore. She honestly hated it, as if people needed more of a reason to treat her like a child past her height and baby face.

The nickname did help her not scream as it turned that fear into anger, though fear was still dominant. Swallowing her scream, she subconsciously backed up until she was against the wall.

“H-h-how do you know m-my n-name.” Yasmine stuttered out, her eyes darting around, searching for something to attach the voice to. But all she could see was a glass bottle of old pills floating around in front of her. It looked ancient honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she saw pills that came in glass bottles. Her question was greeted by silence, the bottle slowly lowering down and away from her as Matt put his hands down to his side.

“W-well!?” she shouted, afraid that this ghost was doing something in the silence that she obviously couldn’t see.

“Because we’ve met before!” he suddenly blurted out in surprise. She winced slightly, but as the words registered, she furrowed her brow.

“W-what? I am pretty sure I would remember meeting a ghost.” She said with a scoff, ignoring the feeling of familiarity that still plagued her as she listened to his voice.

“Yeah… thats, kinda a long story. Which I would happily tell you of course, but please, you don’t have to be afraid. I am not going to hurt you. I would never do anything… well nothing on purpose to hurt you.” Matt spoke, slowly moving closer. The radiating heat of a living person was hard to resist.

“S-stay back!” Yasmine shouted, seeing the bottle of pills floating closer to her. He did as she asked, and the pills rattled as he quickly floated back.

“Sorry, sorry!” he quickly apologized.

“It…It’s fine, j-just tell me who you are and what do you want?… Also why did you call me Yazzie, I hate that stupid nickname.” She grumbled slightly, feeling her tension lower just slightly. Seeing him retreat right when she said to helped her relax. And it didn’t seem like he was lying to her either.

“Oh right, sorry, well, my name is Matthew James Montague. You are right that I am indeed a ghost. The only thing I want is to live in peace. I don’t require or want anything from you. And the reason I called you that… well, that’s what I always used to call you when you were a little kid.” Matt paused for a moment, not sure if he should really break the seal on her memories. But if there was any chance of her allowing him to continue living here with her, he had to be upfront and honest. “Back when you used to call me… Monty.”

Yasmine’s eyes bulged wide at the name. Like a bolt of lightning, the memory she just had a dream of earlier shot back to her. She felt her heart start to beat faster and faster. The image of a ghostly figure coming around to keep her company the first night she stayed here when she couldn’t sleep. But she thought that was just a figment of her imagination…

“Y-y-y-ou, you, you, you.” She stammered out repeatedly. Her heavy chest rasing and falling with deep breaths. Was her imaginary friend from all those years ago actually a ghost? Had he been watching her this whole time? How long had this been going on?

“H-have you been creeping on me since I was a kid or something?” A look of mild disgust on her face.

“What!? No, of course not. I would never violate your privacy. When you were a kid, I wouldn’t even show up unless you wanted me to. You should…” No, she shouldn’t remember. He made sure of that. “I did my best not to scare you.” He finished in a quite somber voice, sounding slightly hurt at the accusation. It kind of caught Yasmine off guard, making her pause for several long moments. Her heart finally slowed to a somewhat normal pace.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“You… said I called you Monty, right…” She asked hesitantly.

“Mmhmm, I thought that name would be easier for a kid to accept than Matthew or Matt… It's actually what my friends would call me when I was still alive.”

Yasmine had so many questions that she wanted to ask. She was standing before a real life ghost, talking to it, and he was speaking back like a regular person. It was an intensely surreal experience to say the least.

“I remember when I was a kid, when I stayed here with my grandpa… My imaginary friend Monty would come visit me. Was that you?” she said, finally asking the most pertinent question on her mind.

“It was. I heard you crying that first night because you were scared and alone… so you got up and turned on the light.” He said with a nostalgic smile coming through his voice. Yasmine bit her thumbnail, remembering that night. How she wished her mom or dad were there, or someone, anyone, so she wasn’t alone in the all but empty room. She let this Monty continue.

“When you pulled out your toys, I saw you were still crying, pretending they were friends visiting. I know I said that I never peeked at you, but you were so sad that I couldn’t help it. So, I slowly introduced myself. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you who was more afraid at that time, you or me, haha.” His melodic and soft laugh made Yasmine relax just a little more.

“You… You did the voice for my stuffed bear… I remember you asked… you made the bear ask me if you could come out and play. I was scared, but I didn't want to be alone anymore… We played for a long time after that. You even came up with a story to tell me.” The memory became sharper in her mind than every before, like it just happened yesterday. Matt smiled an invisible smile, seeing that she at least remembered how they first met.

“That's right, one of a frog singing about being stuck in a well. Do you remember?” His voice was cheery and bright now. Yasmine bit her lower lips, trying to think about it, but most of it was fuzzy for some reason.

“Umm kinda?” She said shamefully. But Matt just laughed again.

“Haha, I don’t blame you. You fell asleep halfway through, so I tucked you into bed and turned off the lights.” As he talked, the pill bottle he was holding floated around and shook like he was talking with his hands as well.

Yasmine tried to remember more about Monty, but each time she did, all he got was vague moments that didn’t tell her much. Why couldn’t she remember anything past that first night? She closed her eyes for a moment, clamping her head between her hands and squeezing, trying to force herself to remember. That was when she remembered that she still had a rather large bump on her head.

“Ouch!” She grumbled, wincing in pain.

“Are you okay!?” Matt spoke up again, this time much closer. He had forgotten himself again and had closed the distance between them.

“Yeah, I’m all-Eep!” She let out a panicked yelp as she opened her eyes and saw the floating pill bottle was almost touching her.

“Oh shoot, sorry. I keep forgetting. Here, take these; they should help with the pain, " he said, offering the bottle to her. Yasmine watched as it swished back and forth as he moved back and then held it out to her. Hesitantly, she reached out and grabbed the bottle, feeling a very slight resistance as she did, just like someone was holding it. As she pulled the bottle back to her, she looked at the label.

“Wow, holy crap.” She exclaimed, eyes wide as she turned it in her hands.

“Is something wrong?” Matt asked, forcing himself to keep his distance.

“Umm, kinda, this bottle of tylenol expired in 1972, haha.” She laughed genuinely, a smile crossing her face. There was no way she was taking this stuff. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She said, holding the bottle of expired meds back to Matt. But he didn’t take it.

“Umm, Monty? Are you still there?” She swished the bottle from side to side, trying to figure out just where he was. A small bit of panic filled her for a moment, wondering if he had vanished or was right next to her again. In truth, he had been frozen, frozen by her smile. He hadn’t seen her smile in so, so long, it was like he was struck dumb. When she said something, he snapped out of his trance.

“I’m here, I’m here, sorry, just kind of lost there for a second. Is that old? Honestly, I don’t know a whole lot about dates and such. Time kind of loses all meaning when you’re dead, haha.” They shared a small laugh at the grim humor as he took the bottle.

“Haha, yeah, it's really freakin’ old, It's 2024, so that’s like over fifty years old.” Yasmine said, still giggling slightly. Matt’s eyes went wide in shock, though.

“Wow, we are in the twenty-first century already. From the TV Jeb always watched, I could have sworn it's only been a few decades…” This was the first time that he realized that he had been dead for a long, long time.

“You… lived here with my grandpa? Did he know about you?” Yasmine suddenly asked at the mention of her grandfather’s name. He had never mentioned anything about a ghost or anything of the sort. Then again, he was also a very independent person. He always refused any help offered to him, even as he slowly lost his battle with Alzheimers in his 90’s. There was a slight pause before Matt answered.

“I did…Umm, if you want, I can tell you everything I know later, but you should probably rest a bit first. You still have a nasty bump on your head.” Matt’s cheerful voice was gone, replaced by a slightly worried one.

“Come on, then the recliner is nice and comfortable.” It was clear he was desperately trying to change the subject. He floated down the hall and back into the living room with all the boxes. She followed the floating bottle of pills that had become her lifeline to know where the ghost was. Though she didn’t feel like she was in danger anymore, it did feel like she was trying to get pulled away from her question.

“Don’t try and gaslight me Monty, why are you avoiding my question?” She asked, folding her arms under her chest, where she thought his face might be, a hard stare. Matt turned to look at her again and in a very confused tone, asked,

“Gaslight?”