Three Idiots and a Ghost

When a ghost got a friend she could relate to

"Hey, Rags, we're back," Archer said, entering the apartment with Skyler later that evening.

"How have you been doing?" Skyler asked in concern.

Rags was sitting in front of the TV which Cooper left on for her as usual. All day she had tried so hard to grab the remote control and change from the cartoon channel to the local news station. She was desperate to learn if anything new had been uncovered on her death. As much as she didn't want to feel sad about her reality, she also felt the need to face the truth. Perhaps that was the only way to put her dead soul at ease.

Rags asked, "Has there been any more news about me?"

Archer briefly turned to Skyler who sent him a rigid stare that clearly read to keep quiet about their morning venture. He thought he could at least tell Rags about some things he discovered at school. "None regarding your death, unfortunately," he lied. "But we did find out something interesting. It seems you weren't so far away from us while alive either."

"What do you mean?"

This time, Skyler responded, "You attended the same college as us. Same major too, but in the year above us. Everyone was talking about you during class. I have no clue how we didn't know you before since you were pretty popular. A lot of people miss you."

Rags felt her heart clench at the thought of her past friends mourning her death. In a way, she was relieved she had no memories of them. It would have been more painful to picture a specific face crying because of her. But then, a face did come to mind.

"Oh, no. Alex." Tears began to pool in her eyes. "What am I supposed to do? He knows the truth now."

Archer's face turned grim. "I did send him a message earlier today, but he didn't reply. He wouldn't answer any of my calls either."

"I just hope he's okay. He wouldn't do anything stupid, right?" Rags's sister side grew incredibly anxious.

"Of course not. He'll be fine. He simply needs some space right now," Archer said reassuringly.

"I really hope so."

Later that night, Cooper came home from work holding a pillow-sized item stuffed inside a black garbage bag. Before giving any kind of explanation, he gathered everyone into the living room.

He then said, "You know, with like everything that's been going on with Rags lately, I thought she would need a friend she could really relate to. Of the dead kind."

Suspiciously eyeing the mystery package, Skyler said, "Please tell me you didn't bring a dead animal home."

"What? No, that's ridiculous, Sky. I got something way better." Cooper untied the garbage bag and dumped out the content. It was a white plush ghost doll with a cute smiley face sewn on.

For the first time that day, Rags felt something positive. She smiled. "That's adorable. Thank you, Coops." She wished she could actually hug the doll, but she'd just have to be content with putting her hand through it and pretending to touch softness.

"You're welcome. I bought it on my way home, but like I didn't have anything to wrap it with, so the store owner gave me this bag. Glad you like it, Rags. So, what should we like name him?"

Everyone in the room took a moment to think about it. Archer was the first to suggest, "Ghosty?"

Cooper shook his head. "That's like way too obvious, man. But then again, judging by the stories you like, you would go for the cliché one."

Archer threw his hands up, offended. "Hey, I'm trying here! And what's wrong with liking clichés?" His question was left ignored. 

"What about Spirit?" Skyler then suggested.

Cooper didn't approve of this either. "That's like calling Mr. Sprinkles 'Cat.'"

In that moment, Mr. Sprinkles walked into the living room, glaring at anything and everything that could breathe. "If you peasants ever address me as just 'Cat,' I will fucking rip a hole through your disgusting, disrespectful tongues with my perfectly sharpened claws. My name is Mr. Sprinkles, and I will only be known as such."

Rags pretended she didn't hear any of that, although the warning was well-noted. Better to have been safe than sorry. It was now her turn to come up with something. "How about Mop?"

"Mop?" the three men repeated in unison.

"Well, you guys call me Rags. If we're going with the cleaning cloth theme here, why not go with Mop?"

Rags did have a point, and the guys found no reason to object. And thus, they welcomed Mop to the family.

All this name talk got Archer thinking. He asked, "Are you okay if we still call you Rags though?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, we learned your real name now. It's Ashlyn. Wouldn't you rather be called by that?"

Before Rags could reply, Cooper remarked, "But Ash doesn't have the same ring to it as Rags. Ash sounds like some ten-year-old kid who throws balls around and supports gambling over animal fights."

"Don't be insensitive, Coops," Archer scolded. "It's her name."

"No, Coops is right," Rags agreed.

Cooper smiled. "You see? Ash does sound like a boy who likes playing with balls—"

"Not that part," Rags cut in. "I was referring to the fact that neither Ashlyn nor Ash sounds natural to me. They may have been my living name, but I'm not alive anymore. As a ghost, I'm Rags. Just Rags."

This was really her way of coming to terms with herself that she was no longer the same person she once was. Ashlyn Tyler as the world knew it was now dead. She didn't want to keep the name of someone who was gone to everyone.