Ghost Hunter...

She went hunting for a ghost and found one. It's a pretty standard story.

She had always known there was a ghost.

Well maybe not known, but suspected.

 At first she suspected there was a ghost. But by the time she went hunting she knew. It's not that unusual afterall. There is almost always a ghost. It just varied on how strong it was.

This was a very strong ghost.

Not at first.

Well maybe it was at first and she just didn't notice. But by the time she knew for sure that there was a ghost she also knew it was very strong.

Or at least strong. She learned it was very strong later. After the hunting.

She had suspected there was a ghost in the beginning. She learned that there was indeed a strong ghost. A ghost who was much stronger than she had even realized.

There. That was fairly accurate.

You have to be very brave to hunt ghosts.

Well maybe not brave.

You could just be very stupid.

People sometimes get those two mixed up. Brave or stupid. It all depends on the outcome, doesn't it?

She was very brave.

Until she realized she had been very stupid.

But by then it was too late. Which is often the case when confusing bravery and stupidity.

She went hunting for a ghost and found one. The ghost was stronger than she had known. She had been very stupid to hunt this particular ghost. It was a pretty standard story. Just not the one most people liked to tell.

The ghost was untouchable. As most ghosts are. Though sometimes they would strengthen and come back to form. That is why she went hunting this one. If she were being honest. Which she had no reason not to be now. Now that it was over. But she had been afraid. Afraid that this ghost would come back and end her life. It was all very dramatic in her head. Also a pretty standard story.

You cannot hunt a ghost directly. You have to come from the side. Everyone knows this.

Well maybe not everyone knew this. It was just how she did it. Coming directly at a ghost would give it too much power. That's what she thought. If you came from the side you could see what you were dealing with, how strong the ghost was, then you could handle it.

Somehow.

That was the piece she wasn't sure about. She'd dealt with lesser ghosts before. And most of them faded away on their own. A few stronger ones here and there had popped up, but again, nothing she hadn't been able to handle. Ghosts had their own sort of half-life. Like radioactive material.  They might start out fairly strong but they faded as time passed. Most of the time. Only very strong ghosts had a long half-life. So long that they didn't seem to fade at all. And, as she had mentioned, sometimes even reformed and came back as whole.

So she went at the ghost from the side. Information was always the key to any situation. So she researched. Mostly by listening. Trying to catch the ghostly whispers. The ones that would tell her what she needed to know. Ghosts leave traces behind. That's how you knew there was a ghost after all.

When she had the information she felt she needed to hunt the ghost she made a plan.

Well maybe half a plan.

Well maybe one step of a plan.

When she had the information she felt she needed she could no longer contain herself and set off to hunt the ghost ill prepared for what she would find. Very bravely. Or stupidly as the case may be.

The ghost was formidable. Larger than she thought it would be. Not in size, but in presence. She could feel the ghost from across the room. Silver. Gold. Glowing. That was how the ghost was. Glowing. Large. Resplendent. That was the word that came to her mind. Or wait, not resplendent, regal. Glowing, regal, not at all aware that a ghost should be small and easily dealt with.

Did you know that the sense of smell is the one that is most closely tied to memory? If you want to remember your grandmother very clearly bake her recipe for lasagne. As soon as you open the oven the smell will wash over you and she will be there with you. In the room. Like she never left you. Her ghost will be strong.

She went hunting for a ghost. And as she neared the ghost she smelled...she smelled...she smelled...

It was their third date. He brought her a gift. She knew then that he was special. A gift. It was a small bottle of perfume. A very distinctive scent. Not her usual fragrance, but she wore it for him. Because he liked it. He would close his eyes and breathe deeply...

She went hunting for a ghost. She found one.