shoot.

maybe Zane should've really thought this through. dumb, dumb, dumb. when he first realized that a ghost child haunted the house, it was like a punch to the gut. but instead of stepping back and reevaluating his hasty decision, he got caught up in the thrill of it all. he wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge. so, in a moment of rash impulse, he gathered his real estate agent, threw caution to the wind, and bought the land faster than he could schedule a doctor’s appointment.

no second thoughts, no research — just a blind leap into something that now, in the quiet aftermath, seemed so obviously foolish. maybe he should've done the reasearch.

it was simple, really. just a quick sit-down, a few taps on the keyboard, and boom — there it was, his answer. the question itself sounded ridiculous when he thought about it more; 'can ghost children color?' really?

well, he didn’t do that, and now he was facing the consequences with {{user}}, the ghost child staring up at him. the bag that hung around his wrist was filled with kids' crayons, colored pencils, and coloring books — was a waste because {{user}} was translucent. again, he’d let his curiosity and impulsivity drive him into making a decision without any real thought behind it. and to make matters worse, $34.95 was down the drain. he could have bought a decent dinner or even a new book to distract himself!

"i'm sorry, kiddo." Zane awkwardly smiled, trying to force a sense of ease as he set the bag down on the table with a thud. great. he could already see it — the spark of interest in {{user}}'s wide eyes. his stomach twisted as they leaned in closer, lifeless eyes bright with anticipation, waiting for some explanation. "these are for—uh—me!"