Birthday

Reads 4
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time 15m

Reads 4
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time 15m

Mature

birthday cake ghost lonliness mourning mystery paranormal

Ren finally pays his home a visit on his favorite day of the year...

TRIGGER WARNING

This story contains themes of suicide, which may be distressing for some readers. Please read with care and seek support if needed.All Rights Reserved

birthday cake ghost lonliness mourning mystery paranormal

Table of contents

Birthday
Thu, Sep 5, 2024

1 part

Birthday
Thu, Sep 5, 2024

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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.

A boy committed suicide, but before his soul moves on, he is given a chance to see what he left behind. A girl longing for true love waits for him, seeing her causes him to want to stay. Living by her side as a ghost for a few months helped her feel his love and longing until one fateful day she meets him. (For anyone who feels like there is no reason to hold on anymore, just know that there is always a reason to continue holding on).

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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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