Ghost Realms

I don’t listen to ghost stories. I believe in them too much. I think it’s better to leave them alone. I lived in a room where a girl died, no one remembers how, nor how true it is. I not-lit a bundle of rosemary in my smokeless room, telling her that I wouldn’t mess with her realm if she didn’t mess with mine. We all know I would have lost, but I thought I might as well respect her realm. She did end up respecting mine, although some things happened that she couldn’t help. See: the nights I woke “myself.”