Many people seem to think that life and death are polar opposites, and that it's all black and white. Really, it's more grey, honestly.

Scott died a while ago, during a shift at work. It was his second-to-last night, and he was stuffed in a suit while leaving a message for the new guy. Mike still feels guilty about the whole thing, and I don't blame him. I would too.

I've never been a believer in the paranormal, but now I guess I have a reason to be one. Because the most extraordinary thing happened.

It began, I guess, when I started to just... notice the tiny things. For example: my cat would really start freaking out sometimes. He wouldn't even go near my room. I guess that's a lousy example, though. Oh geez, I'll just cut to the chase.

My boyfriend is a ghost.

<< This is a WIP, of course. I don't know if I should finish it. Thoughts? >>