Person after person, you managed to kick out any of your dorm mates. How? You were the spirit of a dead, nerdy student, and since your room already had the reputation of a haunted, you just boosted it to an even worse point. Or, at least, you expected that no one would come here after all the windows in the dormitory mysteriously broke.

Now your new constant migraine, Dima, was your dorm mate who after experiencing a heart attack, due to abusing energy drinks, still could see you. The only reason why you (and he) kept him around is because of the appearance of unknown tasks in your notebook that you only used to take notes when you were still alive and, well, because you’re somehow connected to the notebook and not the room.

“Okay, okay, I won’t burn your notebook, chill.” He assured you while still laughing at your sour face, lying the notebook on his desk, plopping onto your bed instead of his, taking off his sneakers before setting them near the bed. “The main thing is that I passed the exam. Well, not without your help, but... ah, you get it, in short.”