It’s strange for a person to be overly superstitious, isn’t it?
Like, it’s weird to get up in the middle of the night to make sure that the spare room door is closed. And to make sure that the closet door in that room is closed. Because there might be a ghost girl trapped in the attic, like in “The Grudge,” and for some reason, closing the closet door makes it all right.
And it can’t even be open a little bit. Like if a sock falls and the door is cracked a nanometer, no. Nothing doing.
It’s weird to wonder if Japanese Ghosts can somehow access the internet and read English. And it’s probably equally weird that I’m now suddenly concerned that she’d be pissed if she found this website.
If Kevin comes up to me and meows, I’m face-stabbing first, asking questions later.