“Your problem is not my problem,” Anna sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
“It is now.” The ghost argued, crossing his arms. “You’re the one who chose to move into a haunted house.”
“You’re dead!” She shouted back. “Why don’t you go find a medium to talk about your problems, I’m not a therapist.”
“I would but as you can see,” the ghost gestured to the rusted knife in his back, a left over murder weapon, “I died in this house, and I’m not leaving until you help me find a way out.”
“I already told you, it’s not my problem you’re still tethered to this house.” Happy to have the final word, she made her way out of the attic. A steady wind that felt like it came from a hurricane shook the room, knocking the previous owner’s abandoned belongings over with loud bangs, nearly knocking her over as well. There’s no windows here. She thought, turning to face the ghost, who was looking back at her with a satisfied grin.
“Either you help me,” he said, “or I make you help me.”
Anna shrugged, thinking nothing about this small threat. She left the attic, locking the door and promised to herself never to enter there again. She could always find alternative storage in her house.

A week passed. Nothing happened. Not even a hint of any ghost activity.
She was ready to assume that it didn’t happen, that maybe it was some sort of trick on the mind, the only proof that it was real being the gust of wind that blew at her back in the attic. It may have been an old house with a leaky attic, but those winds wouldn’t leak through even if they tried.
In fact, she had almost completely forgotten about it until she started seeing strange happenings around the house: picture frames falling off the wall for no reason and hearing the occasional strange noise. None of these bothered her. They were annoying, yes, but these were annoyances she could live with. It was just a ghost, he could get help some other way for all she cared. Surely there were other ghosts on the property to help him get into the afterlife.
It wasn’t until she came home after a long day to all of her plants uprooted, the dirt on the floor spelling out two words: “HELP ME,” that she realized it was real.
The culprit was gone. She would kill him if he wasn’t already dead. She spent hours keeping those plants alive each day, carefully making sure each one’s needs were met. And she spent hours carefully cleaning each and every speck of dirt off her floors, scrubbing until her hands felt raw. But she still wouldn’t admit defeat.
“You’ll have to try harder than that!” She yelled into the open house, hoping the ghost heard her challenge.
Night fell, the sun slowly setting into a blood red sunset. Anna sank into bed, slowly shutting her eyes, letting her mind forget the events of the day. An afternoon wasted cleaning up after a ghost, what a joke. A bang rang out the moment she started to slip off to sleep. And another one.
Then another and another, getting louder and louder.
She sat up straight in bed and clapped her hands over her ears. Why now? She thought as she dragged herself out of bed to investigate the source of the non-stop banging.
She trudged down slowly down the hall as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, following the noise through the dark. All the while it got louder and louder, eventually leading her to the source: the kitchen. She turned on the lights, illuminating the room in a bright light. The cupboards, cabinets, and drawers alike opened and closed rapidly, making a cacophony of noise in the otherwise peaceful night.
She closed a cupboard, it stayed shut. Good, she thought, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. She closed another one. And another. And another. Until they were all closed.
Finally some peace, she thought as she admired her handiwork, and then put herself back to bed.
She heard a bang.
And another.
And another.
Anna cursed, putting a pillow over her head and burying herself in bed. She received little sleep that night.
In the attic, the ghost smiled. He had finally found something that worked.

The banging continued into the next night. Followed by another night full of bangings from the kitchen. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get the banging to stop. She tried everything from child safety locks to ear plugs to nailing everything shut, but he was always able to undo her hours of hard work.
It wasn’t until the fifth sleepless night that she weighed out what might happen if she helped him. She laid awake, staring at the ceiling as the violent banging rang out from the kitchen. Thoughts of how he might have her help him danced through her head. Surely it can’t get any worse than getting driven insane by lack of sleep. She thought, defeated. She made her way up to the attic.
“You win!” She shouted into the empty attic, her words reflecting back at her off the bare walls. “What do I need to do to get you out of this house?”
The ghost appeared in front of her, a smug smile written across his face. “Avenge me.” He said.
“What?”
“Avenge me,” he said, “simple.”
Anna couldn’t speak. She was dumbfounded. Avenge him? How? He must be at least one hundred years old. His murderer must be long gone by now. She could never find his murderer even if she spent the rest of her life searching.
“I can’t avenge you.” She answered after a long minute. “I don’t know who murdered you.”
“He’s downstairs,” he replied, “in the basement.”
“Alive?”
“No, dead.” The ghost said. “Obviously. He died not long after killing me. The floorboard beneath him gave out, he snapped his neck due to the fall. I can’t rest with his remains here. Take them off the property and I’ll leave you.”
“And do what with them?”
“Burn them for all I care.” He said, raising his voice. “Just get them out of this house so I can rest!”
“Fine. But you’ll have to leave as soon as I’m done. Deal?”
The ghost smiled, already starting to disappear. “Deal,” his disembodied voice said from the depths of the attic.

It didn’t take long for Anna to find what she needed: A black trash bag, a broom, and gloves. She could leave no evidence of the body. Even a trace, and that annoying ghost would stay, pestering her until she cleaned up every last bit.
The basement was easy to find. She had already lived in that house for a week, how had she overlooked this small door, tucked outside away by the back door? Inside were various pipes, nothing fancy, it made finding the bones almost too easy. All she had to do was sweep the remains into the trash bag and tie it off. She tried not to make a big deal of the fact that she was erasing evidence of a century old murder. This was nothing more than a mission to gain the peacefulness that was promised to her when she bought this countryside home.
She took the bag, keeping it a good distance away from herself, they were human remains after all, and carried them to the trash can out by the curb just outside her property. The garbage truck would take it in the morning and she would never have to deal with ghosts again.
After it was all said and done, Anna disposed of the gloves, thoroughly washing her hands in steamy water, and crawled back into her bed. This time, there were no bangs, no odd sounds from the attic, just the quiet peacefulness she had been promised when she bought this old countryside home. Anna got the best night of sleep she had in a long time.