––––––––
As a dead person, the last thing I wanted to do was to die again.
But this time, I knew my death would be different, more permanent. And I was even more skeptical that therapy was going to prevent it.
The waiting room was covered in a dull, fading wallpaper due to the sunlight shining through the broken glass. The building itself was an old run-down manor, with long hallways and staircases. As ghosts, we were forced to overlook the missing tiles so that humans wouldn’t want to move in. The manor still had a vintage charm to it though, with ornate railings and big windows. Just because we’re trying to keep humans away from where we gather, doesn’t mean we no longer have good taste.
I sat down in a chair, trying to relax before my session. Being half-alive is exhausting, after
