The Spook_
I am going to go down in history as the most pathetic ghost ever who doesn‘t know whom to take revenge on.
Oh. Wait. I‘m a ghost. I‘m already history. Yay me.
But really, am I so useless that I can‘t remember the face of the person who hit me with their car and thus killed me? Maybe I am. Wonderful.
The last one left to say farewell to is Mother. She took another room after Father passed away. It‘s quaint, I suppose. Pink and peach. My mother‘s favourite colours. Look at her. Sleeping so peacefully and snoring like a lawn mower. Pleasant dreams, Mother.
Mm... now that I‘m here, forgive me. I feel that burning curiousity to read your diary. I have read everyone else‘s, here in this house. Though I‘m not sure if my brother‘s diary can be considered un journal intime since all that is there are dates and events. I was marked too. Twice.
*May 14_00:00_Spook‘s birthday.*
Followed by
*May14_21:13_Sierra passed away in a car accident.*
How sweet yet somehow incredibly naïve of him to classify my death with all the other car accidents. Yish.
Well mother of mine. Forgive me for reading. Let me see if you let your perfectionist self be naughty this year.
...
Oh my. Merde maman. Santa won‘t be giving you any presents this year. Oh no way in hell. I just can not let that happen. Now can I? Mother...
