Fuck! Is that a Ghost?

"Fuck! Oh, holy fuck of fucks!" A twenty year old blonde yelled out with a sprinting heartbeat as fast as a Bugatti Veyron which overpowered her slow and frightened breath as she stayed stiff in the middle of her bed.

"Shhhh!" A male voice whispered in an ethereal voice that was soothing to her ears but creepy to her widely open geoid eye balls that spelt 'fear' in a dozen languages.

How was she still breathing?

Hyacinth's brain wondered how she hadn't passed out a gazillion times in the presence of this stranger.

"Oh, fuck. Am I… dead?" Hyacinth said slowly and tenderly as her breath shuddered.

"Not yet, but I am." The voice replied her with solemn care that her heart found peace within.

Hyacinth's mind wasn't playing tricks on her, and with a dozen slaps with her palms hitting each cheek, she sure as hell knew that she was sober, and this ghost was real, or at least to her face.

"Uhhmmm... I'm Hyacinth, and in the off chance that you're real and I'm not dead, would you maybe tell me why I have a ghost breathing over my face by midnight?" Hyacinth asked as she sought answers to this fantasy that had become a reality.

"You're not dead. Think of me as your guardian angel. I'll always be by your side. And what's that thing your age mates say again? uhm… besties, yeah. I'll also be your bestie." The handsome ghost whose smile was a lethal enchantment to anyone who could see replied her with his ethereal voice as he shifted his face from hers slightly and lay in the bed right next to her.

Why wasn't she creeped out? He wasn't just a stranger, he was a frigging ghost!!

"Okay. I'll be awake soon, but for now, I'll enjoy this dream." Hyacinth replied cynically as she let out an awkward chuckle.

"Okay. I'll be right next to you when you wake up, Hyacinth." He replied as he looked around her room with mild scoffs.

Hyacinth wasn't wrong to think it was all a dream.

She wasn't asleep at the time, but it wasn't long before she fell asleep again.

"Zzzzrrrr… zzrrr." Hyacinth's alarm clock rung irritatingly loud, and in a haste to quiet its vicious noise, she tapped the buzz fiercely before letting out a yawn that wasn't feminine.

"I don't know what is more surprising; you hitting the clock like some Disney witch, or you yawning like a pregnant cow?" The ghost who was now facing her with a funny face asked.

"Oh, you're a funny one, aren't you? At least, I'm not the one who's dead." Hyacinth replied with a cynical infant's voice.

"Wait! What?" The sober voice inside her mind quickly slapped her sleepy brain with sober clarity.

"Oh, fuck! How are you still here? Uhhh….it wasn't a dream?" Hyacinth asked the ghost who smirked like a holy devil and enjoyed her cluelessness.

"You drink coffee? Or jog maybe?" The ghost asked in return as he attempted to raise her blanket from over her body.

"I can really use some coffee right now." Hyacinth mumbled in a low voice as she wore a drug addict's face.

She tucked herself out of the bed and wiped her face with her hand before walking towards the mirror that stood on a wall by the edge of her room.

"I'm not sleeping, I'm not dreaming. It's all in my head. Hyacinth, it's all in your head. Breathe." Hyacinth declared to herself as she breathed evenly in hope that the illusion of an handsome ghost who was in her bed would leave.

"Mmmm.. I've always wondered why therapists get paid that much to feed you those words, but now, I think I understand." The ghost who posed like a 16th century whore said to the girl whose face was away from him and focused on the mirror.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hyacinth grumbled with a clenched jaw as she looked behind at the ghost whose charm was beginning to annoy her.

"I don't think ghosts make jokes, but I'm quite pleased you find my humour attractive." The ghost replied while impersonating a well executed British accent.

"Let's go get that coffee now. Maybe if I'm out with people, you'd leave my head." Hyacinth said with heavy frustration as she put on a t-shirt and pulled down her night shorts.

"Pervert, aren't you gonna close your eyes?" Hyacinth asked with a bit of disgust as she looked at the ghost who was clearly enjoying the sight of her side bums and slim waist.

"I'm all in your head, remember? Breathe." The sarcastic ghost replied with a mocking laughter.

She was all set and kitted, so she headed towards the door and held her keys in her hand.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked the ghost with her eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

"Nah. Ghosts don't need doors." The ghost replied haughtily.

"Okay." Hyacinth said before turning away from him and slamming the door hard behind her.

"Fuck! You slammed my fingers, girl." The ghost screamed slightly with a obvious exaggeration of whatever pain it felt.

"Oh, my bad. I heard ghosts don't need doors." She replied as she broke into a sinister laugh that caused the ladies standing in the hallway to question her sanity with their judgemental faces and condescending side-talks.

"Oh! If looks could kill. Don't worry. You've got something they don't have."

"A depressed life that demands therapy?" Hyacinth replied with a forlorn voice.

"Nah. Good one though, but I was gonna say 'me'. You've got a freaking ghost as a pal. How cool is that?" The ghost said with a smile that appeared to cheer her up slightly.

Maybe this wasn't going to be much of a disaster. A part of Hyacinth actually wished that this wasn't a dream and that her lonely days were behind her.

The ghost kept waving at people's faces and all of them were oblivious of his presence.