Phantom of the Apartment

Google Search: Death

"Hey, Rebecca?" Jason was sitting at his desk searching the Internet in an effort to cure his boredom. It was a day after Thomas had visited, but the encounter had placed an old question in his mind. One that he intended to get an answer to, but one he wasn't sure how to bring it up in conversation. That is, he thought, until now. He turned in his seat to face the couch behind him where Rebecca was lounging. "Rebecca, what do you think the worst way to die would be?"

Rebecca looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. "Well," she said sarcastically, "that's not morbid at all. Why do you ask?"

"Answer the question first."

"Well, the world is full of really bad ways to die. I honestly don't even want to try to think of the worst one, so I'm just gonna go with slipping and falling in the shower."

"Really? That's the best you can do?"

"Well, think about it. You die alone and no one even figures out you're gone for a couple of days. Then the authorities have to come and examine your naked and soupy body for evidence of foul play only to figure out that you were just an idiot who used too much shampoo."

"Wow. How rude."

"Hey, you asked. Now you have to tell me why."

Jason turned and pointed at his laptop screen. "Well, I just found this weird article about this guy who-"

"Actually," she interrupted, "I don't really care. That sounds like a human problem."

"Wha- how's this a human problem? Aren't you human?"

"Let me rephrase that. That sounds like a living human problem. You're the one who has to worry about dying in whatever disgusting fashion that guy did. I, on the other hand, am already dead." She looked almost smug.

"Speaking of which, how did you die?"

She groaned. "This again? I thought we decided this topic was off limits."

"Hey, it's a valid question!"

"Why do you keep bringing this question up? Why do you care?"

He paused. "I care because we're friends."

Her expression softened. "You'll be disappointed in the answer you get."

"What, did you slip in a shower?"

She laughed for a moment and hesitated before responding. "That's just the thing," she said, frowning. "I don't know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know how I died. Can't remember anything about the few days before I died either. It's all kinda hazy."

"Is that normal?"

"I don't really know. I've thought about that a lot, but I don't know any other ghosts so I can't ask about it. If it is, I guess it's so ghosts can't go around seeking revenge. Maybe the memories return after a couple years. Maybe they don't."

"Huh." He tapped the desk thoughtfully as an idea formed in his mind. "Would you like to know?"

She looked confused. "Know what?"

"How you died, silly!"

"That's impossible. How would you find out?"