Her senses came alive as her eyes shot open. There was someone in the room with her as she was sleeping, and she knew it. She did not see anyone, and she did not hear anyone. She felt someone in the same way you might feel the absence of a partner who rose to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Determined not to give in to what seemed a childish fear, she whipped her arm to the nightstand and felt around for her glasses. She shoved them on her nose and pulled the drawstring of her bedside lamp. Nothing.

This happened two hours into every Monday, and she had tried everything. One night she slept with the light on. One night she set her phone up to record the room. Hell, one night she didn’t sleep at all, she just kept herself busy with the sort of loose ends a person says they will get around to but never does. No matter the approach, when 2:00 AM hit, she could feel the mass enter the room and the oxygen leave. She could sense decay, the end of whatever makes us human and the beginning of whatever we might have been in a worse universe.

After the fifth Monday, Baby Buckets decided to tell someone. Her eyes were strained from a lack of sleep, strained from looking for something that wasn’t there. Her voice was hoarse, and she never felt like taking a shower or even grabbing a bite to eat in the morning. Every goddamn week, the same thing. She needed it to end, and if that meant finally speaking to Romperoo again, then so be it.

Baby Buckets met Romperoo for coffee at the Dunkin on the corner of third and Davis, and she had to say, he looked good. The time apart from Baby Buckets had treated him well. Meanwhile, here she was just trying to keep it together in front of the man she once thought she would love forever. “BB,” he said with his trademark Romperoo smile, “you know I will always be grateful when our paths cross.”

Baby Buckets tried not to blush as she made eye contact. “You will always be special to me too, Romp.” She meant it even if her focus was elsewhere, still on the entity that seemed to be hovering all around her in the night. “I didn’t want something like this to be the reason we first talked after eight months, but I honestly don’t know where else to turn,” Baby Buckets said, her gray eyes making their case preemptively.

“Nonsense, BB. I will always be here for you even if I’m half the world away. Don’t worry about me, or about anything other than why you need help right now.” Romperoo always knew how to put her first and be supportive. It was one of the many things she loved about him even if the spark had been gone for years.

Once she was done telling Romperoo how the past five weeks had gone, she could tell he knew she was serious. “I’m not saying this to be weird or anything, BB, but maybe I should come over next Monday and see if this thing shows up with another person around. Maybe he’s shy. Maybe I’ll even be able to see him, who knows?”

Baby Buckets considered his offer. She knew she needed the help to uncover the mystery that had cost her sleep and might cost her more later, but she didn’t want to send the wrong message. She knew what Mother Beep and the Anti-tooth would say, but she had to trust her gut on this one. “I would like that. Thank you, Romp,” she answered with a soft smile.

The next Monday came faster than either Baby Buckets or Romperoo were ready for, but at the same time, the anticipation between them was thick. They sat in Baby’s room as 2:00 AM approached. “If you had to guess, like had to, what do you think it is? Like a burglar or something?” Romperoo asked as he slipped back into the comfort of being with an old flame.

“Weirdly no, and it’s not like I believe in ghosts or anything,” Baby answered, a sense of calm washing over her with only five minutes to spare until perhaps she would know more about her weekly tormentor. With Romp by her side, anything was possible. Why had she fallen away from him?

The clock struck two, and in an instant both of them felt the pressure of the air in the room change. Romperoo felt his heart drop. “If…if anyone is there and can hear me…please just say something!” Romperoo challenged.

“Ugh, is this gonna be a whole big thing?” It was then, as if he were no mystery at all, that the ghost of Garfield past appeared before Baby Buckets and Romperoo. They both screamed in horror.

“G-g-garfield?!” they exclaimed in unison.

“I thought you were a fictional character!” Baby followed up.

“Well, I was, but I sort of seeped my way into the American subconscious. This is a real long shot, but do you have any lasagna?”

The ghost of Garfield past received only silence and knew he’d better get on with his explanation.

“Okay, fine. Most people don’t even notice I’m there. I show up at the beginning of every Monday, I fuck with the covers or maybe I fart quietly. The point is to mess up your Monday in small, almost imperceptible ways. I want the whole world to hate Monday as much as I do!”

“So why did you tell us then? And why are you making yourself visible?” Romperoo asked.

“Look, this is why! I don’t want a whole big thing with ghost hunters and weird devices that detect plasma. I don’t want priests and trips to paranormal psychologists. I just wanted a simple and fun way to make other people hate Mondays, and you guys obviously don’t want me to have it.”

The ghost of Garfield past crossed his transparent, furry arms.

“Oh, ghost of Garfield past, we both know what it’s like to hate Mondays and also to feel left out, “Baby Buckets said in a comforting voice.

“Let’s all go get a big trough of lasagna at Olive Garden in the morning when they open!” Romp suggested, hoping to bring the group closer together with an outing.

“Hell yeah, dawg, let’s do it!” the ghost of Garfield past exclaimed.

The three of them had never felt a peace like they did at 11 AM that Monday morning as they piled into Romperoo’s 2011 Toyota Avalon on their way to Olive Garden, where everyone is family. Maybe Mondays don’t have to be so bad after all.