Chapter 15: Trash Ghosts and Unfinished Goodbyes

The ghost girl who jumped from the building and is now stuck here told me that if no one visits your grave, you’ll end up eating trash like her.

She says it with a laugh, but her eyes are sad. She picks through the leftover pizza boxes in the alleyway, pretending not to care.

Thinking of my complicated relationships, I figured I’d better hang out with her soon, or I wouldn’t even get fresh trash to eat.

Derek is so cold-blooded—if he found out I ended my life right after the divorce, hurting his reputation, he’d probably have my ashes scattered.

I sit on the rooftop with the ghost girl, listening to her gossip about the building over the years.

She points out which couples fight the most, who cheats, who leaves for work at 4 a.m. She knows every dirty secret in this five-story walkup.

She says being a ghost has its perks—you get front row seats for drama, like sitting on top of the wardrobe when someone’s caught cheating.

It’s better than Netflix, she says, winking. I almost laugh.

We’re chatting when I suddenly sense someone at my door.

A cold draft sweeps up the stairwell, making my spectral hair stand on end. I rush down and see Derek’s icy face again.

He knocks, and when there’s no answer, calls the building manager and says he’s the owner and needs the lock opened.

The staff check and tell him, "This apartment belongs to another female owner. She has nothing to do with you."

The manager looks him up and down, unimpressed by his expensive coat. She taps her clipboard and repeats, "Sorry, sir. Can’t help you."

When Derek’s mother gave me this apartment, she said it was pre-marital property and had nothing to do with Derek.

Back then, I thought she was just comforting me, but she really did care for me more than my own parents. Suddenly, I wanted to... haunt the living, or maybe just find someone who’d miss me when I’m gone.