Ghost - more than a bit gay - Wattpad

Ghost

Reads 26
Votes 3
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

Reads 26
Votes 3
Parts 1
Time <5 mins

depression stayalive suicide suicideawareness suicideprevention

A letter from a young adult nicknamed Ghost to their best friend.


Trigger Warnings!!!

- abuse
- self harm
- suicideAll Rights Reserved

depression stayalive suicide suicideawareness suicideprevention

Table of contents

Ghost
Wed, Dec 5, 2018

1 part

Ghost
Wed, Dec 5, 2018

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Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.

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Slide 1 of 10

My Life Being Dead cover

Drowning In Sorrow- Poetry cover

The Letters that were marked with a heart cover

Hating Intimacy #1 cover

Aren't We Friends? cover

Nobody Was Meant to See cover

Beneath The Surface: Book Two cover

The Love That Saved a Life cover

Me Without You cover

Noah (Obsessions in Overdrive #1) cover

My Life Being Dead

Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.