I had a creative writing class last school year so I guess I'll post what I wrote

A Very Interesting Conversation (a writing prompt)

You'd think your first time meeting a ghost would be something scary or fantastic. You'd expect the all the candles to blow out at the exact same time and a moment later mystic symbols would start glowing on the walls as a large twirl of smoke would twist into the room out of nowhere, muttering chants incoherently in an ancient language. The temperature would drop a few degrees and anyone and everyone would stare in horror at the undead spirit.

But no. Sometimes things can get rather disappointing, and the expectation far exceeds the reality.

I walked into the old cafe and hung my soft leather coat on the coat rack before seating myself near a stained glass window. I ordered a drink and looked out at the people in the cafe. The Knocking Knoll was a famous place, having gained itself a neat little throne with the other top cafes of the land. As far as I knew, it was unique for being carved out a large, live tree that was still thriving to this day, despite the fact that it had a huge hole in the bottom of it. The tree was in a lush forest, and the cafe glowed as it got dark. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling were made of different colors of glass, illuminating the place with rainbow light. Every wooden chair, table, floor, or wall had unique designs carved into them. Some weren't even meant to be there. Wanted posters hung on one wall, with very few paying attention to the scowling pictures of criminals. But nevertheless, it was a nice place to rest your feet after hard day of work, or pick up a meal. People chattered and laughed, filling the place with a warm vibe.

My drink arrived. I sipped from the glass and turned toward the window. But something caught my eye. I glanced back at the empty seat across from me and nearly dropped my glass.

Because the seat wasn't empty.

I stared at the pale, ethereal figure. They were colored light shades of blue, white, and gray, and a smoky substance curled off their body occasionally. Their translucent fingers grasped an overflowing peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They sat there and munched on the food for a while, then looked up at me, realizing I was staring.

"What?" they asked.

"Uhhhh . . ." was all I could get my voice to say.

The figure frowned, then picked up a napkin and neatly wiped the few bits of sandwich off their face. "Ah, pardon me, I can get so messy at times." They laughed as if everything was perfectly normal.

"Um, don't mind me for asking, but, uh . . . are you a ghost?" I worked up the courage to ask.

They looked at their pale arms. "Hmm. Yes, I suppose I am a ghost."

I stared, not knowing what to say to the ghost.

"Well don't look so surprised," the ghost seemed almost offended. "I'll have you know that I'm not the only ghost that lurks around these parts." They took a bite of their sandwich.

"B-but how?"

"Child, you'll need to be more specific," the ghost chastised me. I nodded slightly, but couldn't come up with anything.

The ghost sighed. "Well, I was killed in a bar fight about twelve years ago, back when things were a tid bit less civilized," the ghost laughed, "ah, good times. But then about five years ago I believe, they said a witch was going around and bringing folks back from the grave, myself included. However, I don't exactly remember the occasion." They stroked their chin, a look of confusion rolling across their features. But they shrugged it off and took a bite of their sandwich, getting the filling on their face again. "I get plenty of attention around here, and of course lots of food. Food is always good."

I nodded, then a thought came across my mind. "Do you always stay in this cafe?"

"Yes," the ghost replied. "I am, you could say, bound to it, since I died here."

"Then why haven't I seen you before?"

"Well perhaps I just hadn't thought to show myself to you," they disappeared and reappeared to prove their point, giving me a tiny heart attack.

"And why haven't they closed the cafe? You were killed here!" I exclaimed.

"Well that's not the cafe's fault. Besides, the queen doesn't care if anyone dies. Poopy ruler, that one is, I dare say."

I nodded in agreement, but if the years the ghost had given me were right, they would've died before her reign. But the ghost seemed pretty up to date on lots of other things, so it didn't seem entirely impossible for them to know about the new, rather vicious queen. Thanks to her unruly reign, most people had started to realize the faults of violent things such as armed bar fights.

The ghost finished their sandwich and wiped their face clean. "Ah, well, pleasure speaking with you," they told me and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me with the shock that I'd just met a ghost.