Chapter 12

I placed the cake pan in the oven and set the timer for forty-five minutes. At least I decided to stick to one instruction from the cookbook. I settled down on a stool by the kitchen island to read a book as I sipped my coffee and waited for the timer to go off.

A trip to the supermarket would be needed later to get some supplies for the house since someone decided to raid my refrigerator. 

Forty-five minutes later, the timer of the oven went off. I was filled with joy as I jumped down from the stool and rushed to check my masterpiece. I brought out the cake from the oven and the first thing that hit me was the fragrance.

Why does it smell like strawberry? That was weird. I didn't remember putting strawberries in it. I let the cake cool down before I took a bite. 

Blast! It tastes wonderful!

This wasn't what I was expecting. I know I deliberately messed up the procedure. Why was the cake perfect then? 

I left the cake on the kitchen island and hurried to check the items I used in preparing it.  

There must have been a mistake somewhere and behold my prediction was right. The items on the counter were the opposite of what I used. The baking soda was baking powder instead and the salt was sugar; even the vinegar was replaced with a liquid strawberry flavour. 

No, no, no, this cannot be happening. The greedy ghost can cook?! 

~~~ 

Sunday mornings are always the best, but the brain falls into depression when it realizes that the next day is Monday. 

Monday: a six-lettered word and two syllables. A fairly simple word that puts fear into the hearts of many people and makes them bring out their complaint spirit. A word that makes you want to punch the nearest person in the face and pull all your hair out. 

It's a day when you start the horrid cycle over again and wait unbearably for the weekend to come. Isn't it amazing how this cycle goes on for the rest of our life? 

But this Monday was different. 

Why? 

Because I got to leave my apartment! 

Just so you know, living with a ghost in the same house is a terrible idea. Most especially when the ghost is a troublemaker, loves eating and above all, it can cook. The only good thing about the ghost in my apartment was that it helped me to clean the house. But, let's be frank, I think it did that just to freak the hell out of me. 

I had concluded that it either had a multi-personality or it was bipolar. 

I ran my hands through my wet hair as I hurried into the office, knowing I looked like I literally just jumped out of the shower, which I did. I was pretty sure I had eye bags due to my lack of sleep over the weekend, courtesy of a certain ghost that chose to play, destroy and clean in my apartment. 

Hopefully, Cassie didn't notice the eye bags. 

But the Gods were so not in my favour today because, as I turned the corner I saw her seated at her desk on the phone. 

It's not that it was a bad thing to see my friend so early in the morning at the office, but I didn't want to go through the process of explaining why I looked like someone who was sleep-deprived. 

I took a deep breath and walked in. Cassie glanced up at me from her desk with that inquisitive look of hers. 

“Love you too babe. Be careful out there and don't miss me too much.“ She hung up and chuckled.

Guess that must be Martins on the phone. It was nice to see how her relationship with him was filled with so much love and sweetness. I wish I had something like that, but that pussy of an ex-fiancee couldn't keep it together. Anyway, something happens for the best and I was glad it did.

‘Why do you look like you haven't slept for three days straight?“ 

Well, that was fast! 

I sighed as I plopped down on the chair in front of her desk, “That's because I haven't." 

“Why? Don't tell me you've been pulling an all-nighter all because of the upcoming project. You do know that we have three weeks to think of an idea which, in my point of view is enough time. You've got to take things easy, Ama."

"I would be glad if that's the reason for my tiredness,“ I whined.

"I don't get you. What else could make you look this worn out if it isn't a work-related issue?“ 

"You're not going to believe me if I tell you."

“Try me.“ 

I knew she wouldn't let me go into my office without telling her what was going on. Fine, she was my best friend but who in their right mind would believe me if I said there was a ghost in my house and it had decided to play the role of a housekeeper? 

Guess I was just going to give it my best shot. 

"I think… No, there's a ghost living in my house," I whispered. 

She looked at me for a few minutes without any expression on her face. I knew it was a wrong idea to tell her. Like I found it hard to believe in myself in the first place. 

“Look Cas—" 

My speech was cut short by my best friend as she began laughing. 

“Are you for real?“ 

I rolled my eyes, "I know it's not believable but that's the truth. My weekend was made terrible by this ghost." 

“So, you're really serious about this ghost thing?"

“Of course! Would I be joking about such a serious issue?“ I shouted. 

“Alright, I'm sorry for making fun of you but it's surprising to hear you say something like that. I just thought you were joking," she apologized.

“You know me, Cassie. I wouldn't joke with something as serious as being tormented by a ghost in my apartment."

"I know. Tell me everything that has happened," she urged.