If a ghost can open cupboards and break things, why not just take a pencil, find paper, write exactly why it’s unhappy, and tape the message on the fridge.
It just became second nature to close all the cupboards first thing in the morning (even though they’d been closed the night before). Which was when things escalated from banging cupboard doors to actually breaking things.
Faucets, door handles, curtain rods ripped from the wall… all the repairs started to add up.
“Look, I didn’t mind having an ethereal roommate, but I can’t afford to keep fixing all this shit. Here’s a pencil and some paper. Just write what’s bothering you–I doubt you could put anything that would be more expensive than having a plumber come out to replace all the faucets again.”
The next morning there’s a scrawl line at the top of the page that devolved into an angry scribbling mess that tore through the page. Two cupboard doors were entirely ripped off.
“I don’t want to get someone in to banish you, but this is ridiculous. Just tell me what you want.”
The second piece of paper is ripped into shreds and several knives are embedded in the wall.
A careful examination of the paper scraps show that it had the same scribbles as the first piece.
A quick trip to the library and a stop at a store later, there are kindergarten workbooks on learning to write spread across the counter.
“Look, I don’t know if you’re just being difficult, but I hope not. So I got an audiobook on learning to read and write, and here are some workbooks for kids–don’t get mad–to teach them their letters. Just press play on the stereo, and work through the books at your own pace. I’ll get more when you finish.”
The first workbook is half-completed before being ripped to pieces, but at least there was no other damage. Replacing it is significantly cheaper than replacing cupboard doors.
It takes awhile, but eventually the workbooks progress to a fifth grade level. These ones are starting to be more costly (they’re bigger, for one thing), but it’s not even the money anymore. Little notes scrawled in a shaky hand appear on the steamy bathroom mirror
Have A gooD dy
Or written in ketchup on the counter (that was a frightening sight the first time)
You R out of MLK
And then one day there’s a message taped to the fridge. The spelling and penmanship isn’t the best, but it’s legible and even signed.
Dear Occupente,
I have haunted this spot for ovr threehunerhudre 300 years. My bones are dust and I am fergotN. I do not have wants to trap me. I am here 4 ever.
I want cis lesbians to work on making a stronger support system for trans lesbians. Saying “no terfs” just ain’t enough, y’all.
Like, help a trans lesbian get a job. Invite her out to shit. Talk to her. Bring her around other lesbians and don’t make a big show of correcting someone who misgenders her. Offer a ride home at the end of the night so she doesn’t have to walk or bus alone. If you see a trans girl on the bus, sit next to her so some random, terrible dude doesn’t. Don’t invite people to a gathering that’d make her feel unsafe. Know your friends & girlfriend better. Talk to’em about the how and why of supporting trans lesbians. If they’re not on board, get them on board, and if that doesn’t work, it’s time to question the company you keep.
Make it so she feels that OF COURSE she belongs. That OF COURSE she’s supported.
Like idk, everything I just listed is stuff that… you just do for a friend. Y’all it ain’t that hard to treat a trans woman like, ya know, a friend.
I want to add that I definitely want cis lesbians to reblog this
