Lost at the Start

7.

Yes, my room was untouched, and I could neither be seen nor heard unless I wanted to, but that did mean in the slightest that I had free reign of the place.

I wasn't afraid of the dark, but I was afraid of tripping over someone on the floor in the dark and hurting myself, and I hated trying to fall asleep in dead-silence. Every little noise spooked me because I became paranoid so easily.

Well, okay, the tripping thing was technically so longer an issue because I could just pass through everything in my—I was assuming—natural state. And even so, if I dared to turn on the TV, that would partially solve that problem anyway.

The only other issues were the mystery anyone that opened the door would see the blankets floating and bunched in a human shape, and there would be no explanation for the TV magically turning itself on.

And depending on how long I was going to still be here, they could label once as a weird happenstance, but anything beyond two they'd probably label as the TV being broken, and then either unplug it or take it out of the room entirely. And then where would I be?

Maybe if I kept the volume low enough, they wouldn't notice? At least, not at first?

Still, I couldn't rely on my living family forever. Eventually, they'd cope with my deathe enough start going through the room, clearing things out.

Well, okay. Knowing my family, even when they did move on enough to go back to living somewhat normal, it would probably be awhile before anyone really started packing any of my things up, but even so, I didn't need to get accustomed to being around them as a ghost. I'd never want to leave, and it would effectively be a trap, like I was alive, albeit in a vastly different way, all over again.

That, and I felt like a ghost hanging around those they left behind for too long was just...Not proper ghost procedure, or something. If that even made any sense...

So many minutes passed, and finally I decided I could figure that out later.

For now, I'd go to Jackson's house, and at least start watching for a good time to reappear to him, if not actually follow through with it.

This time when I willed myself to him, it wasn't even remotely challenging, and I left my eyes open.

Out of curiosity, I wanted to see what the transition looked like.

Much to my surprise, though it couldn't have taken more than a second or two, I could clearly see my room slowly fade, almost in an overlay fashion, to Jackson's. It was as if the two rooms were dimensionally laid overtop of one another, even though they couldn't have possibly been.

I was still marveling over the whole thing when Jackson walked through me to get to his bedroom door.

Cinnamon had waltzed himself in and still hadn't figured out how to use his cat abilities to shut a door. Jackson was in the process of closing it for the feline.

I facepalmed when I remembered that the cats could see me, regardless of how incorporeal I was or wasn't.

As much as I loved the furry critters, they were about to give me away.

So much for staking out a good time to make myself known...

But to my surprise, Cinnamon looked up at me and brushed up against my leg, but otherwise ignored me.

I'll be honest, I couldn't decide if I was grateful or insulted.

"Learn to shut the door," Jackson mumbled as he flopped back on his bed, eyeing Cinnamon more carefully than he usually would, probably in case I was back, since the cats had been the catalyst to him figuring I was here before.