"aʃe...aµδslδgυhs...aµ∫υe...baµaυ."
"What are you chanting?"
The girl froze, eyes moving from her dictionary to the hovering ghost, "Myrtle!"
"What?!" The ghost jolted.
"You were here, the night you died."
"Come to pick on me have you? Oh, poor Moaning Mrytle, dead in the loo."
"No! I mean, I need your help."
"My help?"
"Yes, the night you died did you hear someone making sounds like: bδ∫, bei∫eπ, ʃiraδ?"
A sniff. "You're saying it all wrong. It sounded like §σsh§εz."
The girl flipped through her dictionary. "...Sσshsεz?"
Just then the sink began to descend