She wasn't the first, and hell, she wasn't even the only one at that table that felt sympathy for some of the non-human beings they dealt with. "She was touched, from all we can tell. She actually murdered her family with her dad's straight-razor before killing herself. They blamed the murders on him, and that's why we thought it was him at first. So um, yeah, she was just... really not that great of a kid. I suspect she had something happen to her in life, because no kid turns out that screwy without something bad happening to them first." He took a spoonful of his soup, and nodded with a low tone of pleasure, "Good soup," he mentioned.
"But um, yeah. Spirits that don't pass on, don't go um, wherever they're supposed to go? They just get more and more damaged. It's like they decay along with the place they're attached to. Some get more and more angry, some just get sadder. Some just go stir-crazy. But no matter what the cause, they're stuck and someone needs to fix the situation, or eventually, living, breathing people will get hurt." Sam grimaced at the thought of having to exist as a ghost. It would almost be as bad as Hell, he figured.