Terry walked through the abandoned house with a black face mask.

"Think about it; what's still keeping you in this world?" he asked the ghost of Jill Doe who stood with her back against the doorway and her arms folded.

She had longish black hair and her eternal attire were a dark-blue shirt and jeans.

"If it were that easy to guess we wouldn't be having this conversation..." she muttered prompting Terry to start rummaging through her dusty drawers.

Seeing this act of rudeness Jill stomped over to him trying to push her shelf closed only for her hands to phase through it.

"HEY!"

Frustrated with her inability to keep her belongings private she swung her fist at Terry only for them to also pass straight through him.

"Relax... I'm just hoping to find a journal or something..." he explained dismissively.

"Maybe you wrote down your final wish or something..."

"WHY WOULD MY FAMILY JUST LEAVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT HERE?!" she demanded.

"AND HOW IS THAT ANY BETTER!? YOU'RE STILL GOING THROUGH MY STUFF!" she exclaimed.

Terry pulled out an aged construction of colourful plastic bricks.

"Are these... Legos...?" he asked prompting Jill to desperately attempt to swipe at the creation in another bout of embarrassment.

"IT'S NOT MINE! I SWEAR!"

Terry placed the makeshift helicopter on the ground as he searched for the missing bricks.

"I used to love these!" Terry exclaimed attaching the broken-off tail to the helicopter.

Seeing that he wasn't taking the opportunity to mock Jill for this odd find she decided to take the initiative on the mocking.

"Let me guess, you liked the ghost pirate ones...?" she asked jokingly.

Terry nodded, putting the helicopter back where he found it.

"Obviously; those guys glew in the dark!" he exclaimed.

He pointed an accusatory finger at Jill.

"You guys don't do that..." he added.

He stood up confirming that Jill's room didn't have any interesting secrets.

When he walked out of the room, Jill followed him.

"So; what now?" she asked.

Terry shrugged as he made his way towards the front door.

"You need to figure out what it is you need to do..."

"Maybe you wished to complete some elaborate Lego build?" he suggested.

She rolled her eyes.

"In any case..."

"I'll swing by tomorrow if I have the time..." Terry offered.

This was the third day in a row Terry managed to find some time in his oh-so-busy schedule to visit.

After Terry left to do whatever despicable things Terry does, Jill was left alone in the house to ponder her situation.

"Something I need to do...?"

"I don't feel like there is anything urgent..."

She slowly walked throughout her house.

Jill inspected every room from the bathroom whose bath was filled with stagnant rainwater to her parent's bedroom.

Every now and then her mind would drift to the attic filled with asbestos.

"I can't help but feel it has something to do with the attic..." she thought.

"Then again it might just be the shock of the discovery..." she reasoned.

Ghosts typically didn't sleep.

Naturally there were exceptions; similarly to how ghosts were confined to their place of death - some were bound to items or even rituals.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Unfortunately for Jill sleep wasn't an option, instead she got to savour every lonely second of her unending existence.

"Logic would suggest that it was my family... but it's not like I have anything to tell them aside from the usual stuff one would tell their loved ones upon discovering an afterlife..."

"Besides... I recall my parents also getting sick a lot... they lived in the house longer than me after all..."

She began to spiral down into more negative thoughts.

"Now that I think about it... I don't recall seeing them ever come here for as long as I haunted the place..."

"Could they be... dead...?"

Just as she asked herself that, Jill could hear the sound of footsteps.

She glanced outside the window seeing amidst the darkness of light only the ruins of her neighbour's house.

"What are you doing here so late?" she questioned assuming that the source of the noise was Terry.

It wasn't.

A group of three kids walked into the house with a flashlight each.

"This place looks like shit..." remarked the intruder in the front.

He carried a backpack filled with cans of weak beer on his back.

"No shit sherlock, it's abandoned!" the one behind him replied.

The one in the back had with him a small, wireless speaker blaring music.

"I don't know about you guys but I don't want to get molested by some crackhead." the third remarked.

"There are three of us; we could take on a crackhead." said the one carrying the beers.

"Don't underestimate crackhead strength, man!" replied the one with the speaker.

"I saw one go ape-ship and break a stoplight in two!"

"Fuck off!"

"I'M SERIOUS!"

While this was happening Jill just looked on quietly.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" She tried calling out to them but they couldn't hear her.

She couldn't touch them either.

The one with the beers immediately waltzed into her room and sat on her rickety bed.

"Watch out, that's probably infested with bugs!"

"It's alright, I got this neat trick - it's called not being a little bitch." he replied earning a middle finger from the middle kid.

After each one of the trio found their place in the room the one of the bed began unzipping his bag.

He tossed each one a can before taking one for himself.

"What the fuck is this?!" demanded one of them.

"This, my friend, is beer."

"You know what I mean, it's the shitty one!"

He tossed the can in the vague direction of the man on the bed - it flew straight through the window shattering it and exploding against the unpainted fence.

"HEY!" Jill exclaimed to no avail.

"Relax, man! It was cheap!"

Not willing to drink the beer equivalent of literal piss the man stood up and headed towards the door.

"Fuck this, I'm out..."

The two that remained just shrugged at each other as one of them began looking around the room.

Jill’s vision went red as she saw one of the two open her shelf and discover the brick helicopter which he promptly threw against the wall.

She wasn't sure of its significance until now - but it was already too late.

The room grew colder as the two noticed the woman standing in the doorway.

"You broke it..."

Gone was the human side of Jill and in its place stood a ghoulish creature with a permanent scowl burned into her face.

Her ethereal skin was now rotten and various shades of blue, green and black.

"You broke it..."

A powerful vortex filled the room as if they were standing in the middle of a tornado.

The two began to scream in horror as she lunged at the first one with great speed.

A ghost's existence is too faint to see let alone touch but when they generate a strong enough emotion or desire this can change.

Not bound by the physical limits of a body a ghost could easily tear you limb from limb.

She slowly tightened her grip around the helpless boy's throat as he flailed around unable to break free.

"What's happening...?" Jill wondered feeling the very consciousness that asked this question fading away in place of a primitive avatar of rage.

She tried to claw her way out of the depths to which she was slowly sinking but it was of no use.

The most she could do was remain where she was for as long as possible as she helplessly watched herself slowly end the life of a child.

Just as she was about to make the final push, the last twist of her palm she heard it.

"HYYYYAAAA!" a high-pitched battle cry came from Terry as flew straight at the ghost feet-first in a strange two-foot kick.

She effortlessly sent him flying into her wall with the swipe of her hand, knocking the cigarette out of his mouth.

"ARGH!" he groaned in pain as he slid down the wall onto the ground.

His eyes fell upon the shattered Lego helicopter that lay against one of the walls.

"Oh my god, those retards broke it..." he thought, looking over to the feral Jill.

Seeing her target's eyes roll into the back of his head as he slowly went limp she tossed him aside, turning to look at the other intruder.

He was trying to climb out of the window only for it to shut as soon as he placed his arms and legs into it.

Slowly it began to squeeze harder and harder as Jill stepped towards him.

Some part of her was savouring the carnage, she was starting to develop feelings she didn't previously hold.

"I should kill him... for that thing he did..."

"He deserved it for this other thing..."

"I always wanted to kill this brat..."

The ambient thoughts of everyone in the area as well as the ones carried in by the intruders began making their home within her as she continued to lose the grasp on herself.

Just as her growling visage was about to tear into the window-bound intruder she was met with her disturbing reflection in the window of the newly-fixed Lego helicopter she returned to her senses.

The window was suddenly free from any supernatural influence allowing the boy to make a panicked break to the safety of his home.

She grabbed the object as it slowly began to phase through her hands exponentially faster.

By the time it was about to fall down to the ground Terry made an effort to catch it and avoid another meltdown.

He breathed a relieved sigh.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned looking at Terry who only shrugged in reply.

"Well... I heard loud music and I didn't take you for the kind to organize a party and not invite me so I came to see what's up," he explained, looking back and seeing his cigarette which was still on the ground.

He picked it up and after blowing any dust, dirt and asbestos off it he deemed it safe to put in his mouth once more.

He looked around seeing the shattered window and open shelf, he glanced over to the speaker which was still playing music.

Assuming it was a Bluetooth speaker that was still in range of a phone Terry walked over to the passed-out kid and took the phone from his pocket.

He turned the music off and messaged the contact labelled as 'mom' with the following message.

"Getting absolutely fucking wasted in an abandoned house,"

The message was 'accidentally' sent to their mother with an attached photo of the passed-out kid with an empty can of beer in his hand.

"Heh... nice..." he muttered to himself.

The rapid sound of incoming notifications was more than enough for Terry to know he had his revenge.