Ghost Girl Diary Day 1
So, I died. Shocked right? A ghost that died, so cliché. Why not a ghost that lived? Oh, right, that death thing is kind of a prerequisite, isn't it? Anywho, I died; the details aren't important. Really, they aren't. I'm not hiding anything. It certainly wasn't a super embarrassing death, I'd rather not talk about. Not at all. Oh, look, there's a super interesting speck of dust over there.
So yeah, I'm kind of stuck floating in the void for all eternity now. No tunnel of light. No death chaperon. No pearly gates. No fire and brimstone. No reincarnation on the horizon. Just an endless void of nothing in all directions. Though, on second thought, maybe this is hell. I'm sooooo bored! For a seventeen-year-old girl, this nothingness has got to be the worst form of torture. Surely this must be a crime against ghosts. Who is in charge here? I want to talk to their manager!
Ghost Girl Diary Day 2
So I was wrong, there isn't nothing here. There's just very little, and my vision is super limited. I saw another ghost today. Just a spectral orb of ghostly blue fire. As we drifted past each other, I waved at him. Her? Them? I don't know. Whatever their gender, they didn't even look in my direction, how rude!
Okay, fine, they probably weren't being rude. I don't think they were capable of responding. I wonder if that's what happens to a ghost after an eternity of nothing. Is that what will happen to me? Or maybe I'm just more aware than other ghosts from the start. Though given the absolute vacancy of anything around me, perhaps being perpetually catatonic is preferable. It's sooooo boring!
Ghost Girl Diary Day 3
I've done some more experimenting with my vision, and I found I have all-around vision in a 10-meter radius around my body. Soul? Ectoplasm? Whatever, I can now see myself. I seem to be a bit better off than the ghost I saw the other day. In addition to an orb surrounded in pale blue fire, I have a ghostly fireball for a head. I'm like a snowman made out of soul fire. I found that I can also manifest arms, so the ghost from the other day should've definitely seen me wave; they're not getting invited to my next death day party, for sure. I can even manifest eyes. Though they're slightly horrifying. Just empty sockets if I don't focus, but if I stare intensely, they turn into bright, flaming orbs.
Taken together, I don't think this flaming snowman from hell look is for me. Just a few days ago, I was a cute girl; I don't think my boyfriend, Brett, would continue dating me like this. Though I suppose he's probably already with Gina now. Let a girl's body cool in the ground for a bit before you move on, jerk! I'm a ghost now, maybe I can hex him? Oh, wait, that's a witch thing, isn't it? What's a ghost thing? Haunting? Haunting him just sounds sad. I don't even know how I would find him to haunt him in the first place.
My righteous fury will have to wait.
Ghost Girl Diary Day 5?
I couldn't bring myself to write yesterday. Absolutely nothing happened. I just stared into the void, and it stared back. I think you'll agree with me that a cosmic staring contest is far more important than an entry in a boring old diary. Okay, fine, I'm not writing, I'm monologueing to myself like a cliché villain or a crazy cat lady, you happy now?
Anywho, that's not important. What is important is that I found I have another mode of vision. It should've been obvious, really; it's what I'm using by default. There's just been absolutely nothing to see, except Jerry, that's what I'm naming the rude ghost from the other day, by the way. But today was different. I think I passed by a planet. I saw a portion of a massive sphere in the distance the other day. It was composed of many specks of blue light. I think those specks of light were the souls of the plants and animals on the planet.
This would be my directional vision. I seem to be able to see at far distances with it. But I can only see souls with it, and unlike human vision, which can see light at any distance if the light is strong enough, there seems to be a hard limit to my vision. Given how distant the planet seemed, it's a, not insignificant, hundred kilometers or so, but given how much nothingness there is in space, my usual view is an absolute void.
I did try to move myself in the direction of the planet, but my efforts were futile. I'm just as adrift in space as a live human would be with nothing to push off of or propel myself with. Perhaps more so, I don't know if I can push off physical matter. Maybe I could kick off Jerry, though if I see him again, the jerk would deserve it.
Ghost Girl Diary Day 9ish
I'm sooooo bored! I don't really know what day it is. It could be day 9, day 20, or maybe it's only been 5 minutes since I died. Time has lost all meaning in this absolute abyss of nothingness.
Ghost Girl Diary Day Umpteensomething
Today I passed by a large number of ghosts. I suppose they probably all died together. They seem just as unaware of their surroundings as Jerry was. I guess I'm unique. Momma did always say I was special. Though usually she was implying that I was touched in the head. I suppose a ghost being forced to suffer eternity while aware is somewhat similar. Being able to pass the eons in blissful ignorance seems like an advantage, one that I lack. I can't even sleep to pass the time; I'm forced to suffer every boring second of the infinite time continuum.
That group of ghosts did remind me of my own death in a roundabout way. They reminded me of mass shootings, which, thanks to the twisted state of affairs in my country, reminded me of school. And school is where I kicked the proverbial bucket.
Ghost Girl Diary Umpteensomething plus one
I suppose it's time I talked about my death. The school grief counselor always said the best way through grief was to talk about it. Is it even possible to mourn my own death? I definitely mourn the loss of my hot body. This ghostly snowman bod is the opposite of attractive.
Okay, okay, enough avoiding it. I died heroically while investigating an evil lunch-lady plot to poison the students. After they discovered me, they force-fed me mystery meat until I died. But I'll have the last laugh. I was recording the whole incident, and it would've automatically uploaded to the Click-Clock server, exposing their dastardly deeds. I'm just embarrassed because puking your guts out isn't a very dignified way to die.
Ghost Girl Diary Day Umpteensomething Plus Two
Okay, okay, the evil lunch lady plot was made up. I'll tell you how I really died, but it's embarrassing; you can't tell anyone. My boyfriend Brett was openly ogling another girl, and I went to tell him off in a righteous huff. Before I got the chance, I slipped on a lunch tray. I cracked my head on the ground and I died. That's it, absolutely nothing else happened.
Ghost Girl Diary Day Umpteensomething Plus Two and a half
Okay, for real, nothing else happened! I definitely did not slip forward first with the high-school stud, Brandon, directly in front of me. I definitely did not headbutt him in his family jewels before stumbling back and slipping on the same lunch tray to receive the fatal bump to the head. There absolutely wasn't a chain of unfortunate events that were set off by the lunch tray shooting off and hitting its next victim. The principal absolutely wasn't depantsed, revealing his kitty boxers in the chaos, and the cheer squad definitely did not get covered from head-to-toe in the gruel that passes for food in school cafeterias. There is no way that I retched up my lunch in Brandon's face before the brain bleed caused me to pass out. And not in a million years, did I hear Brandon's friend joke, "Brandon is so hard, girls bust head on him," before I slipped the mortal coil. And for sure, there definitely wasn't a news crew there for another event that captured the whole thing and immortalized it. Absolutely none of that happened. No, my pale blue cheeks are not crimson red right now; you're imagining it, ghosts can't blush.
Ghost Girl Diary Day Squijillion
Hey Diary, I'm going to stop writing for now. Nothing interesting is happening. Just boring void after boring void. Even naming the shapes I'm hallucinating in the dark has lost its appeal. I'll write again if something interesting happens.