“I really hate it when you yawn like that.”

“I can’t help it.” The ghost whined. “And it’s not yawning, it’s moaning.”

I rolled my eyes and looked back down at my phone. In a few moments I was giggling at some meme of a bird in a towel on Facebook.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” He whined. “You’re always just putting me down these days. Why can’t we have fun anymore.”

“I already told you Beebles,” I sighed, distracted. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“But…”

“No buts!” I set my phone down hard, but carefully. I stared the sheet-covered apparition in the eye. “You know you’re overdue to go. You had a good little stint all these years, pretending to be my imaginary friend… but that’s over now. I’m grown up, I know the truth, and it’s time for you to move on!”

Beebles— God knew what his real name was— just stared at me quietly for a moment. Then, he began to hum the tune to Sesame Street.

I sighed, again, and went back to Facebook. I wondered if he’d been this much of a creeper when he was alive.

Nightmare Fuel 2016, Day 23