Learn to Live Again

Convo with a Cat

Well hello again. I have promised more content and here it is. Chapter 1, at least, lol. But more to come! (Comments make me post faster so pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease say something! You guys are awesome and I want to hear what you think!!!)

TW: There's quite a bit of discussion about death and also some talking about knives, but nothing super graphic. More intensely, there's some internalized homophobia (but we work that out, I promise. You're a valuable little bean and you deserve all the love!)

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The new guy was getting on his nerves already. He'd literally been here for, what, six? Seven days? And Mitch was getting fed up with his absolute refusal to acknowledge him.

Well, to be fair, he might just not know Mitch was there yet. Being dead kind of made talking to living people difficult.

He wasn't exactly being subtle though. Two hundred years of sitting around one really, really dull and lonely mansion had given Mitch plenty of time to practice doing spooky ghost stuff, like blowing a paper off of a counter.

Yeah, exciting, he knows.

Sometimes he manages to do other stuff, when he's really trying. One time—and this could very easily be his greatest achievement since he was actually alive and could do things—he spent two weeks straight slowly unscrewing the chandelier hanging in the foyer until it crashed to the floor and scared the shit out of the dickhead businessman who lived there. Needless to say, Mitch had gotten to not-live alone for a while again after that.

His little stunt had apparently become legendary in whatever city was nearby now, according to the teenagers who had broken in several times between owners and attempted to talk to him. They were fun to try to get a scare out of, but they always seemed more interested in screaming a lot and trying to freak each other out than having a friendly chat.

His most recent stretch of being alone at the mansion had come to an end though with this bastard.

Okay, he really wasn't that bad, but seriously? His cat did not turn off the lamp with a twisty knob. His cat did not flip the doormat upside down. His cat did not turn the heat up on the stovetop, burning the hell out of those eggs and making the kitchen smell so bad, Mitch could almost taste it.

This guy did tend to forget that the "tee-vee" was playing before he went to bed, so Mitch didn't particularly want to scare him off like he did that asshole in '58. Mitch needed some time to catch up on these films. Or movies? Whatever the guy called them now.

He really did want some attention though, so maybe he wouldn't lay off the pranks completely. He could probably call it a success when the guy stops yelling "Wyaaaaaaatt!" every time Mitch manages to knock something over.

Speaking of "Wyatt", that cat was... actually okay.

Mitch was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring down the little gray blob of skin soaking up all the sunlight through the window. The cat lifted its head and made direct eye contact with Mitch. Woah, it was more than a little unsettling. When was the last time that happened?

Blond dude chose that exact moment to freeze in the doorway and stare down at the cat.

"What the hell are you doing, Wy-Wy?"

The cat (and Mitch) strained to look up at the confused face.

Mitch could at least pretend to have a conversation, right? "He's making a friend, what does it look like?"