Yeah.
This crazy ghost is in my house. I know you don’t believe me. Right off the bat. Nobody believes me. But taking my chance. Cast a wide net. Hopefully somebody here believes me in the end.
This crazy ghost tried to get me to cut myself. Each day and night. Particularly at night. Met a psychologist. She.. she tried to treat it as if it was in my head. It wasn’t in my head. It’s real. “Is it here right now?” Fuck you. What else would I say then? She just couldn’t believe me. And to those wondering it wasn’t there with me.
The ghost had issues- the fucking ghost had issues. I… I mean I get why nobody believes me. Who in their right mind will even say this out loud? I get it. Doubted myself for months. Of course I did. Explained it to everyone. Also get that would strengthen my beliefs in it. Of course it does.
The ghost cut herself as well, when she was alive. Did it for attention. But then she hurt herself. So then she got mad at others. But she still wanted attention. Pissed off she had to cut herself. Didn’t work. Pieces of shit around her. Eventually she just killed herself. Veins in the bathtub.
It was an old story. The folks knew it when I bought the home. But apparently, nobody had noticed a ghost before. Particularly this one. Of course nobody did.
Probably weakens my case here but I already did once cut myself. Story actually similar to the ghost. I don’t want to talk about it. Didn’t ever want to talk about it afterwards. But everyone of course brings that up. I didn’t cut myself this year cause I wanted to. Just felt… the ghost would let up. She hasn’t. The ghost is telling me to do it more often. Give a finger, it takes a limb.
I know why the ghost is doing this. Wants somebody else to suffer, like she did. Finally found her perfect target. Knows how my mind works.
Tonight I came home and saw her there. Smiling. I am used to her. She sometimes gives me respites. Then she starts. She literally loses it. “CUT YOURSELF, PLEASE, OH PLEASE, YOU HEARTLESS BITCH, I AM IN PAIN. SO TIRED, SO TIRED, PLEASE CUT-” I have sometimes laughed at it. So she gets louder. Only I seem to hear it, or see her for that matter. It doesn’t become funny when it becomes louder. Jumps on to me, crying and sobbing. Grabs my legs as I try to run away from her. Slaps me shitless if I stop. It hurts so much. Curl into a little ball. Stay that way even after. Scared to go into my own home.
I can’t move though. She can follow me. That’s what she did today. I didn’t know she could. I was looking at other places to stay. Had been, just been hard. So in my office, I saw her. Smiling. Came back home and she was smiling too.
So I walked into the kitchen. Took a big knife, went in front of her, and slit my wrist. It hurt. Ran to the bedroom for a bandage. She walked up with me. They were soaking. Each bandage. Tears began to roll down my face. It was too intense. And she begins whispering “do it again.”
Still is. Typing this up. She isn’t afraid. Nobody will believe me.