I shivered under the covers. Why did I have to get the short straw? I was sure that my younger brother was comfortable under the covers of the guest bedroom's queen sized bed, having drawn the longer straw when Grandma had us choose.

And warm. I shivered again. Grandma really needs to install some heat up here. The attic was frigid in the October night, and I could've sworn it had gotten colder since I went to bed hours before.

The window! I realized. It was wide open, letting the night— and the cold— in.

Sighing, I left the warmth of my covers and slid into the floor, which was unsurprisingly as cold as the air.

I paused at the window. Running a finger along it, I traced a path through the water droplets. I'm surprised they haven't frozen onto the window. It was fascinating, however, how the cold air could turn to water.

A suddwn gust of wind forced me backwards, blowing the already open window even wider. What the—

"It's not even any warmer in here!"

I jumped back even farther. "Who said that?" My eyes scanned the cramped attic room frantically, but I was still the only one in it. "Who's there?"

A soft exhale, like a sigh. Just the wind, just the wind, I tried to convince myself.

Then whatever it was spoke again. "Wait... you can't see me?"

I took another step back, running into the bed. "No, no I can't! Who are you!"

Laughter filled the air. "It's a miracle! I'll live!" At that, it laughed even harder.

My eyes widened. "Are— are you a ghost?"

The laughter stopped. "Well, I will be soon."

I blinked. "What?"

"Right now I'm a spirit. Someone who recently died and hasn't moved on quite yet."

"Okay, but— what? Isn't a spirit and a ghost the same thing?" I relaxed slightly. It didn't seem like this spirit was planning to hurt me.

And I had to admit, this was pretty cool. Both literally and figuratively.

"Well, spirits are invisible, and silent to all but other spirits and ghosts."

The panic came rushing back. "What? Are you saying— that I'm—"

"No! You're very much still alive. But the fact that you can hear me is a bad sign. For me, not for you. It means that I'm becoming more tied to the world of the living— becoming closer to being a ghost."

"But what is a ghost, then?" I asked.

"A ghost... they're spirits that became tied to the human realm. They aren't quite visible, but sort of half transparent. What you living people always imagine ghosts as. You can also hear ghosts, and if they concentrate hard enough, then a ghost can physically contact things."

"And... you don't want to become a ghost?" I asked.

"Of course not! I want to be able to move on to the afterlife. Once you completely become a ghost, that's it. You're stuck in the living world forever, or at least until the world ends." The voice sighed. "And it seems like that's what's going to happen to me."

I felt bad for this spirit. "Well, how can you go to the afterlife?"

"I have to get warm. Then my molecules will go faster, separate, and bam, I'm gone. But... right now it's really cold, and that's how ghosts are created. The molecules are slowed down, they become visible, and then they're stuck."

"Hang on," I interrupted. "Why can't a ghost just get heated up, and then they'll  go back to a spirit and then go on the the afterlife?"

The spirit sighed. "Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. For whatever reason, once you become a ghost, your molecules are stuck."

"Huh." Who knew that science was involved for ghosts?

"And my molecules are slowing down in the cold. I thought that coming inside would warm me up, but its just as cold in here."

That was one thing we could agree on. I shivered again. "So, um, where are you? It's really weird just staring at nothing."

"I'm right here. Over by the trunk."

I looked that direction, at the chest of old clothing my grandmother still kept. Oh no...

"I can see you." Just barely, but I could make out a roughly human shaped patch in that area, slightly whiter than the area around it.

"Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. This isn't good." The white patch moved, rapidly darting from one side of the room to another.

"Hey, hey, calm down. It's going to be fine," I said. "How about I take you downstairs? It's a lot warmer there."

The moving shape came to a stop. "I... what?"

"C'mon, it's this way." I opened the door. "Grandma has a heater in the bathroom. That'll warm you up."

The white blob drifted over. It was beginning to look more... human and less blobby. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the spirit cried.

"It's no trouble. I wouldn't mind some heat anyways." I led the way down the spiral staircase. "So, if you don't mind me asking, who were you before... you know."

The spirit sighed yet again, and icy breath hit my neck. "I don't remember. I just have... feelings. Impressions of my life before."

"Oh."

We had arrived at the bathroom. "Alright, it's just inside."

The door creaked open, and blessed heat spilled out. Inside was even warmer.

Already, the spirit was becoming more transparent, its voice fainter when it spoke. "Thank you, so much. I... I wish I could repay you, somehow..."

And somehow, I could feel the spirit's presence vanish as it moved on.

I stood there in the warm bathroom for a long time, thinking. I had always been fascinated by how air could become water, become physical and tangible, when it got cold enough.

But I had never expected the same to be true of spirits.

This was written for a prompt Miss_Masquerade did. I really liked how it turned out so I decided to publish it here!