The alarm clock wasn’t supposed to go off yet. John sat up in bed and turned it off. Again it showed 3:33 a.m. He knew as the logical person he was that he shouldn’t believe in ghosts, but twelve months had passed since the move to this house. Eleven months since the night Jeannie’s heart stopped at this time 3:33 a.m. The alarm keeps going off without explanation, even though he set it for 7 a.m. Then he stared into the dark room, feeling an icy breath on his neck, and yelled frantically, 

“I miss you Jeannie, and so do our kids, but please, please stop playing with the alarm clock! We all need to move on. We love you, but we must move on! A tear rolled down John’s face as Jeannie’s apparition continued down the stairs to put on a pot of coffee.