Pat came from work after a 13 hour shift to make money. While he was microwaving an expired mac n' cheese he heard something go KRASSHVHDFJ.
Microwave noises "AHwhHAtThEFUCkWHOSTHERE" he shouted and he was so loud that the neighbor next to his house shouted "SHUT UP YOU'RE NOT FUCKING POSSESSED WE'RE GOING TO KILL OURSELVES"
This was enough to shut Pat up, because he wasn't doubtful that it was just noise outside his house or an object falling. Not to mention the fact that he is a very anxious idiot. He would hear a bird and think it's a siren and get a panic attack as if he's high. And now that he's alone, the amount of anxiety doubled. However, for now, he'd ignore the sounds since he's tired and probably losing his sanity.
He took his expired mac n' cheese and went to his sofa. He was watching Stranger Things for the 56th time. That's when he heard scratching in the ceilings. But instead of getting scared, Pat was pissed off. Scratching usually meant rats. So there was a rat in the attic. FUcking HECK THERE'S A RAT HAUNTING HIM FROM THE ATTIC.
He slammed the ceiling with the end of his metal pipe(don't even ask where it appeared from) and yelled "YOU BISH YOU DON'T PAY RENT HERE"
After a few minutes of banging, the scratching stopped. He wondered how in the world a rat got in, but pushed the skepticism aside to resume poisoning himself with expired food while watching Stranger Things.
After finishing the mac n' cheese, he was sitting on the couch and dissolving into the cushions, hoping that he'd die by drowning in a furniture. Of course, that doesn't fucking work and now he feels stupid for even imagining his corpse just being the damn couch so the funeral being held with a whole couch shoved into a coffin.
He went to the bathroom after thinking about this random shit, but when he was about to get back to his room to finish a document about something from history class, he saw something or someone or a blob, or whatever the fuck that was swifting across the hallway. More like floated and flew across and through a wall.
Woah shit he sees ghosts, he thought to himself.
Wait he sees gho-
"RRAAAAHHHGHGHHHGGGHH WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!111!1" was the words that was forced out of Pat's throat to keep him from dying by a heart attack. He's so loud that at this point it seems like a rational thing for the neighbors to just nuke his house or just tape him onto a wall with, of course, his mouth so that peace will arrive at their eardrums once and for all.
Pat's heart was having a seizure but didn't actually stop or anything because Pat is a healthy person. But right now he is still panicking asf because he saw some shit. He traced back to his memories to think if the mac n' cheese has caused a problem in his brain or something. Or perhaps it was the amount of sleep he's been getting that was starting to drag him down and make him feel like a bag of wet-cardboard-like shit.
He calmed himself down because he bet with his friend that he can live alone but if his friend sees him dead because all Pat did was panic and die after going high with moldy mac n' cheese, he'd obviously lose the bet.
He slowly walked towards the kitchen, but instantly regretted that choice.
For there was an actual ghost.
No shit Sherlock.
