Avril Harris
Ghost
@UnwantedAvril
You’re probably wondering who I am…
Well, that would be because you don’t know me - Obviously.
I like to keep myself hidden… everyone’s better off if they stay away from me. I seem to cause destruction everywhere I go.
It all started on the 9th March, 1980 - The day this bitch was born.
My dad had been out on a business trip abroad for months, he didn’t even know my mom was pregnant. She had kept it a secret until I was born… My dad got home about a week later to find me in the house on my own. Mom had gone out with her “friends” who were clearly more important.
…This is all only what my grandma told me when I was about 10 by the way…
So, my dad was like who the fuck is this? Hah, yeah, his daughter. He rang my mom and they had a huge argument, for obvious reasons… It ended up with my dad leaving and my mom not being able to look after me. I was put into care.
It sucked and forced me to grow up a lot quicker…But when I was 10, my grandma told me everything (I saved you a few details) and from that point on I changed.
I used to be quite cute, innocent… I accepted that I didn’t have a family. I soon grew tired of it all. I became a “problem child” always getting in trouble, ‘disturbing’ the other care kids… I didn’t have any friends. I had no one I could talk to. I went through a “complicated phase” of not talking to anyone, shutting myself off completely, for a good 3 years. When I was 13 I met someone. They weren’t my friend, in fact, I hated them. But they made me realise something… They made me realise that the world is full of cruel, stupid, bitchy people that quite frankly deserve to be shot in the knee and left to die, slowly, just like my parents. Hah, just one of my fantasies. Anyway, this girl… she was the school bitch, yet everyone loved her. How? I don’t know. It just proves this world is completely fucked. I then went through an “awkward phase” for practically the rest of my life. (God all these stupid fucking terms the care workers came up for me) I started doing things… Things I’m not proud of and that will haunt me forever. If you ask to look at my wrists I will probably punch you and run, just a warning.
I dressed differently, acted strangely, I wasn’t normal enough for people to like me. I had plenty of frequently used names… “slut” “whore” “freaky bitch” “EMO” as the kids liked to shout… They were all stupid anyway, yet I was surrounded by them for years. No one understood me, let alone even tried to. I hurt people, a lot. I got into fights, took drugs, self harmed. Anyone who tried to get to know me I would push away and they were too scared to ever speak to me again. I ruined relationships, I ruined people, including myself. I was a complete whore.
When I was 18, my grandma died and I ran away. Over a couple of weeks of being a street whore I managed to catch enough buses to get all the way to L.A. It was 1989, the day before my birthday. I slept in a pub toilet before getting kicked out, good times. I had spent a couple days in L.A sneaking into the local swimming pool, taking a shower, breaking the lockers and stealing people’s clothes and possessions. It didn’t take long until I was caught and I ran. I ran as far as I could until I came to an old house…It was huge, and even better, it looked empty. Yes, you know the one…The ‘Murder House’. I knew the police were close and I was on the missing persons list. I ran into the house and panicked. I couldn’t go back to the care house…or anywhere else they wanted to take me. I ran around looking for a knife, or a blade, or something. I was tired and confused and everything was happening so fast. Before I knew it, I was laying on the floor of a bedroom with blood pouring out of my wrists… The police broke the door down and found me, but it was too late. I was standing in the shadows, watching them take my body away.
I felt sick…confused, tired, dizzy. It was all so much. I had forgotten what had happened until I saw my body…Then it was all quite obvious.
I was stood by the window, watching them take me away… I started crying, but you can’t tell anyone that. I never cry.
I wandered the house, but kept myself hidden. I’ve seen what goes on in here, all the other ghosts and families. I’ve just never spoken to any of them… until now. I figured this is my home now, so you’d all better get used it.
This is me now. Be nice and I’ll try not to fuck it up. But I can’t promise anything…
Well, that would be because you don’t know me - Obviously.
I like to keep myself hidden… everyone’s better off if they stay away from me. I seem to cause destruction everywhere I go.
It all started on the 9th March, 1980 - The day this bitch was born.
My dad had been out on a business trip abroad for months, he didn’t even know my mom was pregnant. She had kept it a secret until I was born… My dad got home about a week later to find me in the house on my own. Mom had gone out with her “friends” who were clearly more important.
…This is all only what my grandma told me when I was about 10 by the way…
So, my dad was like who the fuck is this? Hah, yeah, his daughter. He rang my mom and they had a huge argument, for obvious reasons… It ended up with my dad leaving and my mom not being able to look after me. I was put into care.
It sucked and forced me to grow up a lot quicker…But when I was 10, my grandma told me everything (I saved you a few details) and from that point on I changed.
I used to be quite cute, innocent… I accepted that I didn’t have a family. I soon grew tired of it all. I became a “problem child” always getting in trouble, ‘disturbing’ the other care kids… I didn’t have any friends. I had no one I could talk to. I went through a “complicated phase” of not talking to anyone, shutting myself off completely, for a good 3 years. When I was 13 I met someone. They weren’t my friend, in fact, I hated them. But they made me realise something… They made me realise that the world is full of cruel, stupid, bitchy people that quite frankly deserve to be shot in the knee and left to die, slowly, just like my parents. Hah, just one of my fantasies. Anyway, this girl… she was the school bitch, yet everyone loved her. How? I don’t know. It just proves this world is completely fucked. I then went through an “awkward phase” for practically the rest of my life. (God all these stupid fucking terms the care workers came up for me) I started doing things… Things I’m not proud of and that will haunt me forever. If you ask to look at my wrists I will probably punch you and run, just a warning.
I dressed differently, acted strangely, I wasn’t normal enough for people to like me. I had plenty of frequently used names… “slut” “whore” “freaky bitch” “EMO” as the kids liked to shout… They were all stupid anyway, yet I was surrounded by them for years. No one understood me, let alone even tried to. I hurt people, a lot. I got into fights, took drugs, self harmed. Anyone who tried to get to know me I would push away and they were too scared to ever speak to me again. I ruined relationships, I ruined people, including myself. I was a complete whore.
When I was 18, my grandma died and I ran away. Over a couple of weeks of being a street whore I managed to catch enough buses to get all the way to L.A. It was 1989, the day before my birthday. I slept in a pub toilet before getting kicked out, good times. I had spent a couple days in L.A sneaking into the local swimming pool, taking a shower, breaking the lockers and stealing people’s clothes and possessions. It didn’t take long until I was caught and I ran. I ran as far as I could until I came to an old house…It was huge, and even better, it looked empty. Yes, you know the one…The ‘Murder House’. I knew the police were close and I was on the missing persons list. I ran into the house and panicked. I couldn’t go back to the care house…or anywhere else they wanted to take me. I ran around looking for a knife, or a blade, or something. I was tired and confused and everything was happening so fast. Before I knew it, I was laying on the floor of a bedroom with blood pouring out of my wrists… The police broke the door down and found me, but it was too late. I was standing in the shadows, watching them take my body away.
I felt sick…confused, tired, dizzy. It was all so much. I had forgotten what had happened until I saw my body…Then it was all quite obvious.
I was stood by the window, watching them take me away… I started crying, but you can’t tell anyone that. I never cry.
I wandered the house, but kept myself hidden. I’ve seen what goes on in here, all the other ghosts and families. I’ve just never spoken to any of them… until now. I figured this is my home now, so you’d all better get used it.
This is me now. Be nice and I’ll try not to fuck it up. But I can’t promise anything…