A Ghost Cooked For Me

I freaked out, but only for a second.

Immediately after, the pure rage of being broke took over.

I shoved my phone right into the shadow. The screen clearly displayed three thousand eight hundred dollars.

“I say, you’re paying for it!”

I stood my ground with defiance.

“Read it. Three thousand eight hundred dollars! Do you know what my monthly pay is? After rent and bills, I’ll be broke! Completely broke!

“You’re running a full-scale operation here every day! You cook and do poltergeist stuff while treating my electricity like it’s free!”

The dark mass seemed to hesitate.

The flickering lights steadied.

The temperature in the room rose a few degrees.

That cold voice spoke in my mind again, but this time, it carried a trace of... hurt pride?

“I don’t have any money.”

I almost laughed out loud in disbelief.

“You don’t have any money, yet you still have the nerve to act so entitled?”

I put my hands on my hips and switched into full lecture mode.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Nathaniel. We are housemates. Housemates split the bills. You cook to pay for your rent and utilities. That’s the deal. But you don’t get to blow the budget!

“From now on, we are on an energy budget. Do not leave the TV on for no reason. Keep the meals simple with just a couple of simple dishes. And no more random apparitions, especially in front of my colleagues. Do you have any idea how expensive compensations for emotional distress are?”

I said my piece.

The dark mass stayed still and listened quietly.

Only when I had finished did it slowly dissipate back into the shadowy corner.

A word echoed in my mind.

“Okay.”

I let out a long sigh of relief. I felt like a hero who had successfully negotiated a truce.

I was probably the first person in history to get a ghost to pay up.

From that day on, Nathaniel genuinely started cutting back on using utilities.

The TV stopped turning on by itself in the middle of the night.

Our dinners were downgraded from a full-course meal to just a couple of simple dishes.

Even though the meals were simpler, they still tasted as delicious as ever.

Our cohabitation settled into a bizarre kind of harmony.

Every day when I came home from work, a hot meal was always waiting on the table.

The house was constantly spotless.

I started giving him money.

I did not know if he actually needed it, but it made me feel better.

Whenever I gave him the money, I would say, “Here’s your pocket money, Nat. Buy yourself something nice. My treat.”

Even though I could not see him, I could feel the atmosphere in the house becoming warmer and more peaceful.

As for Whitley, after she was scared off that day, she had been hostile toward me in the office.

She did not dare tell anyone about the incident with the candlestick holder. No one would believe her, anyway.

Instead, she started sabotaging my work at every opportunity.

That day, the director assigned our team an urgent project with a tight deadline. He demanded a complete proposal within three days.

Our manager assigned data analysis, which was the most crucial part, to Whitley and me.

Whitley coyly smiled at me in front of the whole team. “You’re the expert on this, Casey. I’m sure you can take the lead. I’ve some family matters to attend to, so I might need to leave early.”

Just like that, she left at five o’clock sharp.

She left the entire mess for me to handle.