The old grandfather clock chimed, her cat meowed, and chains rattled. Things were almost normal in Salma's household. Almost, since most of whatever could be considered normal had been chucked out of the window a few months before.

Salma pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing heavily. "Agatha, what are you doing?"

"I am not Agatha," Agatha clearly said. "I am the ghost of your old business partner, Jacob Marley."

Salma shook her head. "Go read another work of Dickens, please." The only Jacob she had ever known was her partner in a fifth grade science project.

Agatha sighed. "What has you so upset? Norman and Neil said it would be funny."

"Funny? Dickens didn't get a thing right about ghosts!" She sighed again. Over the past few months, she had filled up notebook after notebook with information on ghosts. All of her research was vital to understanding how they worked.

"You're no fun." Agatha pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, looking quite similar to Neil. She certainly took the fact that she was dead a lot less seriously then.

"How did you even get that chain around your leg?" It was fake; Norman had worn it on the past Halloween.

Agatha shrugged. "What does it matter?" She jumped off of the ground and began to float. No longer did the chain so much as do anything to hinder her.

Nothing made sense.

"Can I examine you for a moment?" Salma was itching to make a hypothesis. There had to be an explanation for this.

"What?" The ghost girl threw her hands in the air. "Why should I do that?"

"Well what did you come over here for?"

"Neil said that you needed to get into the Christmas spirit."

That certainly made sense. Every year, right after Halloween, he got excited for the holiday. Neil may have been Salma's friend, but he brought yearly annoyance.

"Let me examine you and I will go watch one Christmas movie with you, Neil, and Norman at Neil's place." She held up her pointer finger, long and brown. "One."

Agatha grinned, then floated down onto Salma's bed. "Alright."

It used to be that having a ghost in her room, on top of her bed, would have been strange. Now, Salma could only be thankful to have someone to help her with her research.

"So what are some of other works of Dickens?"

Salma was a bit surprised by the question. She pointed to her book case. "I think you would understand better if you actually read one. I have a few that you can borrow."

"Thank you." Agatha began to hum.

Soon enough, Salma was writing away in a notebook and humming "Jingle Bell Rock" as well.