VENT - a ghost in the wrong corpse
I feel like a ghost in the wrong body.
I do not belong to this body, this isn't my body. These aren't my eyes, my arms, my legs...
They don't feel like they are mine.
This is someone else's body, someone else's life. I'm like an intruder.
I feel sad for not being the person the people around me want me to be, the owner of the body I'm living in.
I wish I could be the one they think I am but it just doesn't feel right. My hair doesn't look right, my eyelashes are too long, my body too short, my chest... It's all wrong. Even if the body looks good, I just don't feel like this is what I should look like.
What even is wrong with me? Why can't I be normal?
The friends, few of them, I've told them about this say they're supportive at first... Two even suggested calling me by another name, a name that could fit. I was excited, but of course it didn't last long.
I feel like... They take it as a joke. When I present myself to them as the one I feel like, they giggle and "play along"
"What? No, youre -----" they'd said multiple times, messing with everything they said they were supportive about.
"If you want a boyfriend, you'd need him to be BI. I mean, why would a gay man date you?" The two laughed as I simply nodded my head, forcing a smile.
They call me by our chosen name at times, but any other time they'll call me by the name of that dead person I'm living in.
I love my friends, they make me feel so happy when I'm down but when it's about me being a ghost they just... I feel like they don't understand.
I wish I could talk more, but my mouth won't move when I want to speak up. To try and explain them what it feels like.
I don't want to be too pushy, I want them to feel comfortable even if that means me rotting inside this corpse.
They keep making jokes about me not being -----, I can just laugh and look away because if I speak up they won't like me anymore-
One night, I told another friend how I felt, how I was a ghost, how I wasn't -----.
It was a quick confession, all the others were too as I was afraid of taking too long talking about this. A long text, then I went to sleep so I didn't had to deal with it until the next morning.
I remember telling him that if he wanted, he didn't had to use my chosen name or even pronouns, all I wanted was to him to know it, that it wouldn't make me uncomfortable as I was used to the feeling.
A lie. A very stupid lie.
The conversation never came back, I even doubt he remembers or cares. I love my friends, but it's sad that not even with them I can feel like myself.
My parents? They don't know. My father, I once had asked him about how he felt about ghosts, of the creatures stuck on strange bodies that didn't fit them and that they changed so they could be happy.
They live in fear, he said, they're never happy even with the changes.
I didn't spoke to him for the rest of the day, afraid I'd let something slip the corpse's tongue and he'd hate me for the rest of my life.
I love my family, but I am afraid of not seeing them again if I ever turn into myself.
Afraid of losing the ones I love just because I wanted my hair short, because I didn't want to wear that dress to my graduation, because I wanted my voice to change, because I wanted my chest to be gone and my heart to be seen.
I'm afraid my father will look at me, kick me out and never speak again until I go back to being -----
Would he love me if I was -----? Even if that was a lie? Because, even if I'm still acting as his -----, it doesn't feel like it. But I still wish he does, just for a little longer until I do something bad.
I wish to be myself. I really want to, but being myself would mean people hating me for it. People would hunt me down to exorcise me once they find I am not -----, that I was a ghost who got stuck in that body out of an accident. Because... I'm not supposed to be here. I never was. This body is the corpse of a now long gone child who was daddy's happy baby.
My chosen name? At first it was a joke to myself, I had chosen it from a cartoon I loved. But, the more I spent nights thinking, the more meaning I gave it.
My father is a religious man, one who's been trying to get me to be religious as him since I was born. My name is now not because of a dumb cartoon bunny, it's because... Of a wish. That if I ever tell him the truth, that I'll be his -----. That I will be devoted to his god, even if I am a ghost, I chose that name to get his favor of having something he loves in mind.
I turn to the mirror, the body still as I stare at the blurry image in the reflection. It doesn't have a shape, it doesn't have a mouth. It's a black figure with two sad eyes staring back.
I don't know how am I supposed to look or to sound, but this body isn't right.
I am a ghost in the wrong corpse. I am stuck forever here unless I accept the people I love won't be there for me.
Pride month, they call it... But I don't feel pride. I hate being like this. I wish to be normal, but this body is uncomfortable. Maybe someday I will just get used to it, or maybe I'll die uncomfortable again.
I hope that you, the one reading this, can feel happy with your body. I don't know if I will, but I have hope other ghosts can. I love my family, I love my friends and I love you.
2087
titsay
stormborns
ellievsbear
izzy806
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
