Dear Casper: You’re really f*cking up my mojo.

This ghost thing? Will. Not. Quit. Now I’m scared AND pissed. That’s not a good combination for a person with a history of extreme mood swings THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

I vacillate between wanting to completely ignore everything one moment and then fighting the urge to rush my lapsed ass on down to the nearest church for some spiritual counseling. And now Red seems to realize that I’m not making this shit up for fun, because last night he got a taste of it himself.

I had been in bed for over an hour when he came back to the bedroom. “Did you say something?” he asked.

I pushed my sleepy mask back off my forehead and shook my head no. “I was asleep. Why?”

He didn’t say anything at first. He sat down on the bed beside me and was quiet for a few moments. “I dunno. It sounded like someone shuffling around back here. I thought you might have gotten up.”

I sat up and flicked on the bedside light. “It wasn’t me.”

We sat there like that for about five minutes. Nothing happened. I was tired and not really willing to deal with any funny business from our resident spook, so I punched my pillows back into shape and curled up beneath the covers.

After what seemed like seconds, Red shook me awake. “Baby. BABY. Wake up. You NEED to wake up.” Something about the urgency in his voice sent adrenaline shooting into my veins. My heart started immediately started thumping at red line, which sent tingles shooting down my fingers and toes.

“Sit up,” he commanded. That in itself was out of character; Red knows not to order me around. Without saying anything, I shot him a look that clearly communicated how unfortunate I found his timing.

I sat up.

“Look at the wall.” He pointed across the room to the opposite wall where a square of light filtered in from the living room. “The light is moving,” he whispered.

Y’all, Red is supposed to be the rational one. The one who tells me I need to calm the hell down before I pop a goddamned blood vessel. And now he’s telling me that he knows there’s something out of the ordinary going on.

Whatever he heard last night scared him enough to make him want to bring Boo into our bedroom to sleep. Not that Boo minded, of course. Sleeping with Red and me is a special treat reserved only for really bad dreams and bouts of loneliness on my part. But when Boo woke up a little while later, he figured out pretty damn quickly that he wasn’t in his own bedroom where he had fallen asleep. He sat bolt upright and started up his it’s-not-okay-to-keep-calm-and-carry-on cry, which roughly translated, means FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE SNUGGLE ME! And that got my heart thumping again.

After we got him calmed down, it took me ages to fall back to sleep.

Even though my mom–who also happens to be a beacon of calm, rational thinking–thinks I’m blowing things a little out of proportion, she agrees that I need to get some kind of religious paraphernalia up in here. My dad thinks this is a sign that I need to go back to church. In any case, this weekend when we go to my parents’ house for Easter (which is kind of ironic, no?) I’m going to go through my boxes of high school stuff to find my super special holy water as well as some various and sundry Catholic juju. Just to be on the safe side.

So, Casper, here’s the deal. I get that you’ve decided to mess with me. I’m an adult, I can deal with it. But when you decide to mess with my kid? That’s when shit gets nine kinds of ugly. Consider this your official eviction notice.

Your days are numbered, you creepy little bastard.

Mmmkay?

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