I was never a brave man, or rather, I had enough sense to be a coward. I thought that cowardice would protect me, and to some extent, it did. I am well respected after all or was before this whole mess began. I had a good, albite monotones, job in tech support and a plastic plaque on my desk that stated in a self-satisfied fount that my name was 'Phill R Miller.' Everyday I drove the two miles to work in my well-ironed tie and slicked back blond hair; just an average drone going about his business. I never broke the law, I sat in the back of a conference room, and most of all I never, ever, talked to my boss's daughter, Mira Trenton. But in the end it did not matter one bit, Mira talked to me.

I was reluctant when she asked me to stay after hours but Mira said it was work related and I have always had a hard time saying no to people. I can recall in perfect detail the way she smiled when the last of my colleague's left for home, and how many steps it took her to reach me, seven footfalls echoing through the empty office, she was so close I could feel her breath. I remember the way she looked when she held the gun to my chest, straight brown hair unruffled and eyes unblinking. Then she fired and I can't recall what happened next.

I woke up, if my current state can be referred to as awake, a minute or two after Mira's pistol emptied its contents into my chest and I had gasped my last. Mira was near, leaning against my plastic desk with a cup of tea she must have made while I was blacked out, she looked serene.

"You've shot me!" I told her, as eloquent in death as ever I was in life. Mira sipped her tea and retrieved a phone from her pocket. I watched as she dialed a number. Mira raised the phone to her lips and spoke in an even tone.

"Hello? Police?" Here she paused before continuing.

"Yes, I'd like to report a murder. No, I'm fine but this man certainly isn't. The body is on the fifth floor of Trenton offices, do you know where that is? Good." Mira hung up and took one last gulp of tea before saying "They'll have tracked the call I guess."

Mira dropped her phone into the cup of tea she had been drinking where it sizzled and died.

Mira waved at the floor beneath my feet and left, I looked down at the spot she had indicated and into my own lifeless eyes. After that, I must have blacked out again because the next thing I remember is the police arriving.

"Third one this month." Said a young officer, his voice quavering and his pallor pale. "Do you think they're connected? Is this a serial killer?"

No one answered him.

I walked up to the young officer and tapped him on the shoulder. He shivered but said nothing.

"Hello?" I said.

The officer shook his head and walked away.

I glanced back at my body, lying prostrate in a pool of blood. So, I really was a ghost. I can't say that I adored being present at my own murder investigation but at least I still had my presence of mind.

The crowd of police busied themselves around the scene in search of clues but the general feeling was that of hopeless resignation. Through the office window, I could see the sun setting and the rush hour traffic dying down. I thought about how right now I would do anything to be back in that god awful apartment I called home with my orange cat stretched across my stomach. But life wasn't fair and, as was rapidly becoming apparent, neither was death so I resigned myself to an aimless drifting around the office

"It was, in all probability, an inside job." Said the police chief before brushing her short black hair out of her vision and continuing. "There was no sign of lock-picking and the windows are all shut so either the deceased let them in or they had a key."

"Who is the deceased anyway?" asked a tall officer from the doorway "Do we know his name?"

"Phill Miller" Answered the chief

I walked closer to the group of officers, I was clumsy and unused to this half walk, half levitation, of my new spectral form. I tripped over a power chord and spilled across the floor. The lights clicked off.

I saw the officers flinch in the semi-dark and the chief grip tight to her gun before saying. "Is there anyone here? This is the police and we will shoot if needed."

A moment passed, then another, and the tall officer from before moved to the light and flipped the switch. The light flickered on and the chief breathed a sigh of relief, saying "It was just a power malfunction or something, get back to work."

I looked down at myself. My body was translucent and blue, I floated a centimeter or two above the ground, there was no way that I turned the lights off in this, less than ideal, state.

I stood and walked over to the light, I pressed my hand against the bulb, it flickered, then went out.

"God damn it!" Huffed the chief before stomping over to me and turning on the light once more. "They need to get this electricity thing checked out."

I drew near the group of officers around my cadaver and tried to get their attention but had no luck. I was still corporeal to them.

I looked away from the gathering around my body, call me squeamish but I didn't relish the sight of my own spreading blood. One of the officers had powered up my computer to search through the files for clues. I made my way over to the officer at my desk and looked over his shoulder. After a minute or two of clicking open various applications, the officer found his way to the notes app where he began scrolling through my grocery lists and half-finished vacation plans.

Just then, an Idea came to me. I leaned over the keyboard and clicked a few letters. A line of type appeared on the glowing screen in front of my face. I spelled out my name, and then Mira Trenton's.

"Hey, chief!" Yelled the officer in front of me "Come look at this!"

The group of police ambled over, none looked interested in the least.

The young officer pointed to what I had written and said "It just appeared, I swear I didn't write it."

"Oh come off it Keith." Said one of the cops

"We know it's been a long day but let's try to show a little respect for the crime scene ya?"

"I'm telling the truth." Keith insisted, crossing his arms.

I took pity on my unwitting accomplice and began, once more, to type.

'Mira Trenton killed me'

"See! I told you." Said Keith, looking at his coworkers in victory

The officers looked at each other, confused.

"Someone must have hacked it or something." Said the chief, her brow wrinkling.

"I don't think you can hack the notes app." A young cop said while running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Well, it can't very well be mr. Miller now can it?" Asked the chief, her jaw set In a tight line.

I taped my fingers against the desk, thinking, then started once more to type.

'You need to believe me. I'm dead, Mira killed me.'

"It must be a joke or something." Offered one of the younger officers with a weak smile.

"Yes, it's just someone making a sick a joke. Now everyone back to work ok?" Said the chief with decided authority.

I typed my spectral fingers tapping against the keys in a fever to get the words out before the officers left.

'No, this is not a joke a swear. Please arrest Mira Trenton.'

"They can hear what we're saying." Said Keith, standing up from my desk. "How can they hear us?"

I combed a hand through my hair and stomped a foot against the floor.

'It doesn't matter how I can hear you. just investigate Mira.'

Keith retreated to the doorway before saying to the gathering at large "I'll look into whatever files you want me to but not here, you don't pay me enough to brave a haunting, you just don't."

"Oh for god's sake Keith!" Sighed one of the officers "It's not a haunting."

The chief rubbed a hand over her face before saying in a long-suffering tone "Come back in here I'll have you demoted."

Keith deflated, trudged back towards the computer and mumbled "I'll stay here but I'm not touching the computer."

During this brief standoff the officers had devolved into hushed whispers and frenzied hand gestures. I flicked the light on my desk on and off. The officers fell silent, waiting with apprehension to see what happened next.

'So, I'm dead.'

I typed conversationally

"Cut the ghost crap." Spat the chief, tapping an index finger against her holster.

I cringed, I suppose there was no reason to fear the chief's gun but old habits die hard and that woman was terrifying.

'Lets agree to disagree on the whole text conversation from beyond the grave thing then but believe me when I say that Mira Trenton is a killer.'

I let my fingers rest on the computer keys and looked back at the chief. The officers all stood gathered around, glancing between each other and the computer screen. I desperately hoped they would believe me but it was clear that they were still uncertain.

'Please?' I typed, my hands shaking and unsure.

There was a moment of nonreactor and then, at long last the tall officer in the back raised his hand and said "it's worth a shot. Not like we have any other leads."

The chief shook her head before saying "Alright, fine. Look into this 'Mira' for me alright? You think you can do that Keith?"

Keith nodded and answered "ya, I'll look into it but I want it noted that we're taking a tip from a ghost."

Several officers snickered but the chief just sighed and signaled for the group to get back to work. The police finished their investigation and left me to myself but at least I had made them believe me.

Days passed by and I began to wonder if there was to be no end to the monotony of drifting through the cubicles of my former workplace. I had always believed that afterlife there was peace, rest, pearly gates etcetera, but all I got was an uninterrupted view of Trenton offices. Then finally, as I made another lap around the office, I overheard a conversation.

"Did you hear? They caught that guy's murderer." Said a woman between sips of coffee

"Who's murderer?" Asked a bored coworker, his desk chair rolling back and forth.

"Miller's. you know, the guy who used to work here." The woman answered, her eyes wide with excitement

"Oh who was it?" asked the man, stifling a yawn

"Mira, the boss's daughter, can you imagine? I guess they had an anonymous tip or something." Replied the woman, downing her coffee and staring at the man expectantly.

The man shrugged before saying "good. She gave me the creeps anyway."

I smiled and it was the last thing I did before fading into memory, and so ended the haunting of Trenton offices. 

A/N: i wrote this for a school project, hope you enjoyed it!