GHOST: The Boy Whose Life I Ended

GHOST: The Boy Whose Life I Ended

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Apr 16, 2021
I killed someone and tried to cover it up. I know it's wrong but I did it anyway. So when the boy I killed comes back to haunt me I can only see it as divine retribution. Although, he doesn't seem set on torturing me, seems the only way I can make up for what I did is by doing him one last favor. [Warning this story may contain some strong language. I hope this story is enjoyed please leave a comment on how you think the story is going I will update this story at least once a week on Saturdays]
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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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