Cole Sear tossed and turned in bed, consciousness slowly arising from the depths of sleep. He had been dreaming, but it was already lost to him, and he couldn't remember if it had been good or bad. He was becoming aware that he had to go to the bathroom, and badly, and he resisted for a minute, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep and worry about it later. It was so late, and he was so tired, but...

Sighing, the young man hauled himself out of bed and stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom. He began to relieve himself, half asleep and eager to return to his nice, warm bed, when the hairs on his arm started to rise. Something had passed behind him, he was sure of it. Now considerably more awake, he noticed the temperature dropping drastically, his breath hanging in the air. He knew, from countless painful experiences, what these signs meant.

Cole shivered as he covered himself up, his thin tank top providing little protection against the chill. Sounds were coming from the kitchen now, and he moved as quietly as he could, not wanting to alert whatever was in there. Turning the corner, he saw a woman in a pink robe rummaging through the drawers. She looked dimly familiar for some reason, though he couldn't quite place her. He approached cautiously. "Um, hello?"

In a flash, the woman turned on him. Her expression was a mix of searing anger and bitter loathing, and her black eye told an unpleasant, if all-too-common, story. "No, dinner is NOT ready," she spat venomously. Every drawer, every cabinet door was open, and she glared at him defiantly, as if today were the day she cast off all her chains. "What are you going to do? YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE!" She thrust her arms at Cole, revealing a shocking number of wicked-looking slashes on her upper arms. "Lenny, you're a TERRIBLE HUSBAND!" she screamed as she advanced on the boy. "Look what you MADE ME DO, Lenny!"

Something snapped in Cole's mind. "For God's sake, woman, I'm trying to SLEEP back here!" he exploded. "The last thing I need at—" he glanced at the kitchen clock "—two in the GODDAMN morning is some ghost howling like a banshee in my GODDAMN kitchen! I deal with this shit all day as it is – I can barely get through a class without some ghost pleading for help while I'm trying to take a test or make a presentation – and now I can't even get a good night's sleep with ghosts dropping by my GODDAMN house at all hours of the..." He trailed off as the woman sunk to the floor, sobbing wildly. His anger evaporated, and he mentally slapped himself for being such a clod. He slowly walked over to the crying woman and eased himself down onto the cold linoleum floor. "Hey, I'm sorry. That was really insensitive of me, huh?"

"I loved you, Lenny!" the woman bawled into her hands. "I just wanted you to be more like the man I married! Why did you have to hurt me?!"

Cole sighed and moved to put an arm around her shoulders. He was surprised to find that she felt solid; she must have really needed the comfort. "Maybe he loved you too and just didn't know how to say it. People with anger issues often have trouble with that sort of thing. Normally I'd suggest you go to a domestic violence shelter, but uh, you know..." He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Look, I'm no good at this kind of thing. I'm really sorry about yelling at you, it's just been a rough week. My grandma says she'll talk with you, so I'll let her take over here. Hope you ladies can work this out." He stood up with a yawn and stretched. "I'm going back to bed. Thanks again, Grandma."

As he made his way back to his room, he heard his mom stirring. "Is everything okay, Cole?" she asked sleepily.

"Yeah Mom, just a ghost in the kitchen, everything's fine. Grandma says hi."

"That's nice, dear," his mom muttered. By the time he made it back to his room, he could already hear her snoring softly again.

Cole climbed under the covers and tried to will himself back to sleep. He just hoped that this wouldn't come back to haunt him tomorrow; he had a big calculus test, and he was barely passing math as is.