To tell you the whole truth, I was less than pleased about the fact that someone was moving into my apartment. If it wasn't obvious by now. 

I lingered by the window, watching the outside world. People ran around like headless chickens and I never understood what the fucking point was. Everyone was rushing to be somewhere and I wanted to shout at them that this will only dig their premature grave.

I was the one to talk, right? 

Snorting at my own thoughts, something bright and yellow suddenly caught my attention. A taxi. And stepping out was the same redhead. 

"Fuck," I muttered but apparently my voice was still too loud. 

In less than a second, the living room was filled with the rest of the curious spirits. 

"Is that her? Oh my, she looks lovely," the elderly woman, Marge, said. Her hands clasped together by her chest. She was everyone's grandmother here. 

"I'd still tap that," Joey commented, earning a huff from Leah. 

Leah was about my age when her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend stabbed her to death. Quite unfortunate but it was clear why she was so desperate to be in another relationship. 

She lingered somewhere in the back, her slender arms crossed over her chest. I could feel her gaze burning holes into my skull but I couldn't be fucked dealing with her at the moment. 

"You're all out of your minds," I grumbled. 

My upper lip curled in displeasure — Samantha was smiling and seemed overly happy about this day. 

I snapped out of my thoughts when someone tugged my sleeve. Looking in the right direction, I was greeted by a pair of bright blue, wondering eyes. Lily. 

Lily was the only kid among us. She was six years old and her story was probably the most tragic of all of them. 

Growing up with an alcoholic, abusive father and having an addict of a mother, poor Lily never stood a chance. She was the only one I had a soft spot for. 

Her tiny hands clutched to the teddy bear she was buried with. "Is she our new friend?" Her voice was so small but hopeful. 

I took a deep breath, my chest rising. 

As much as I was a dick, I didn't have it in me to destroy that light in Lily's eyes. 

Reaching for her, I picked her up and settled her on my hip so we could look outside together. 

"We don't know yet, Lils. Maybe," I replied, instead. It was only a half-lie and my barely alive consciousness didn't sting from the words. 

Samantha was gathering things from the trunk of the taxi. Fuck, how much luggage did one really need? 

One, two, three... Six suitcases plus a purse. And a backpack. Was she kidding? 

I just knew that by this time tomorrow, this apartment would look way too girly for my taste. She seemed like the type who was way too fond of flowery patterns and scented candles. Hell, I'd bet my left nut she baked pies on Saturdays and stuffed them in her mouth while sobbing over The Notebook or some shit. 

"Okay, everybody out," I ordered out loud, instantly catching everyone's attention.

"Oh, come on. This is the most exciting thing that happened in the last year," Tom — the middle-aged construction worker objected. 

"No. Out!" I repeated and handed him Lily, who instantly wrapped her arms around Tom's neck. 

They knew me well enough by now to know I meant it. The fight they put up wasn't really a fight, just one single attempt to get me to change my mind — which I never did. So, they left. 

Except for Leah. Of fucking course. 

"What?" I snapped as she watched me with those judgy eyes. 

Her steps were slow as she approached me. "I've never seen you like this." 

"Like what?" 

Leah shrugged her shoulders briefly. I couldn't tell if she was genuinely sad or just a fucking good actress. Two seconds later, I realized I didn't care which one it was. 

"This worked up over a girl," she then said. 

I frowned and stared at her as if she finally lost the rest of her marbles. 

Her manicured nails scratched her elbow as she waited for me to say something. But I didn't. And after what felt like an eternity, Leah let out a breath and nodded her head then vanished from my sight. 

She went to the Alone Place because of me and someone in this building is going to try to make me feel like shit about it. I already knew it. 

"Whatever," I mumbled to myself.

Circling the apartment, I heard the front door unlocking. 

Shit. Well... Here we go. 

I stood in front of the door as it swung open. Inside stepped Samantha and two other dudes, carrying her bags. 

Really?! 

I recognized the faces — they lived on the first floor. Mack and Zack or some shit like that. Both buff with shaved heads, tattoos reaching their jawlines. And she had them wrapped around her finger in less than five minutes. 

I mean clearly, they couldn't see how absolutely insufferable this woman was yet. 

"Thank you so much, boys," she cooed at them. 

One of the two brothers flashed her a lopsided grin, earning an instant nudge of the elbow from the other. The grin disappeared and he cleared his throat.

"No problem. If you need help with the furniture—" Mack or Zack or Crack said but got cut off by his brother once more. 

At least one of them seemed to be a little sane. 

I snarled at the woman. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, tell her that she wasn't welcome here, that this already was someone's home. But I knew she wouldn't be able to hear me. 

"You're acting like a child!" Marge's voice suddenly startled me. 

I flinched and groaned. "For fucks sake, Marge..." 

"Language!" Without missing a beat, her cane smacked me over the head. 

You know, the pain really shouldn't exist after you die anymore. It was just another filthy trick life and death had in store for us. 

I rubbed the back of my head, staring at the usually sweet elderly lately. 

"Geez, sorry, sorry..." I muttered. 

Marge distracted me just enough so I didn't see where Samantha had disappeared to. I tried to retrace her steps, taking the usual shortcuts through the walls. 

I found her in the bedroom, one of the too many suitcases on the bed.

"Ah, music!" she exclaimed to herself. 

She ran straight through me towards the living room and yet another bag. A gasp left her lips. 

"They better fix the heating..." she grumbled, looking around in momentary confusion before she seemingly got distracted again. 

Marge stood by my side, the wrinkles by her eyes deepening when she smiled. 

"You ought to give this girl a chance, Matthew," she said, nodding her head slightly to underline her words. "She feels you." 

I rolled my eyes. "Everyone feels it when a ghost passes through them. Trust me, she won't last a week here." 

"Mhmm..." she mumbled, not revealing her true thoughts on the matter. The smile didn't falter. 

Music began to blast from Samantha's speaker and she twirled in the middle of the living room. Yep. She was insane. 

I took a deep breath and sighed, exasperated. 

I give it a week. I'd say I'll find a way to get rid of her if it's the last thing I do but... You know.