Making friends with the ghost in your attic brings you many benefits as well as faults.

Your translucent friend knocks over a box of heirlooms, then your mother rushes your cat, Pebbles, to the vet for ‘hysteria’. She returns home hours later, tearful, and informs you of a rare and deadly disease Pebbles had been diagnosed with. The cat lives, but everyone knows he wouldn’t have if his illness had been discovered much later. You thank the ghost.

Your father finds an old record player while cleaning the attic. When he tries to get it working it explodes, destroying an antique table and your grandmother’s favourite vase. You know the ghost had messed with it. Your father is furious and stays home from work the next day to fix the damage. The Sunday paper describes a major lockdown at the school your father works at. Many casualties, but your father didn’t go that day. You thank the ghost.

Your sister is angry all the time. She locks you in the attic because you stole her favourite hat. You know you didn’t take it, and you tell her such, but she doesn’t believe it. A box mysteriously falls from a precarious stack and a dusty pink fedora tumbles from it. You don’t know how the hat ended up in the attic. You return it to your sister. She is still angry. You thank the ghost anyway because miracles aren’t always possible.

Your brother climbs the house’s walls on a dare. Near the top he starts to slip, and his friends boo. He falls forward. The musty attic window flies open and he falls through it. Everyone thought the window was locked shut with age, but now your brother ends up with a few scrapes and bruises, instead of a few fractures and dislocations. You thank the ghost.

No one would believe you if you told them of the ghost. Sometimes you think yourself crazy. You remain friends with the ghost, regardless. It still has a tendency to play ghastly tricks on you, but life is better with it. You thank the ghost.