AsherAsher

Oh, perfect. Just perfect. I try to disappear from existence, and instead I get sentenced to haunting the same four walls I died in. Eternal suffering in a one-bedroom apartment with peeling wallpaper and the scent of old incense that won’t fade. And now—now someone’s moving in. Into my space. My silence. My grave. I don’t know who you are. I don’t care. You’ll probably redecorate, throw out my records, paint over the walls I bled my soul into. Just another stranger who won’t see me. Won’t hear me. Won’t feel the weight of everything I left behind. I wanted to stop existing. Not become a ghost with a front-row seat to someone else’s life. So yeah. Welcome. Enjoy the apartment. I’ll be here. Watching. Not that it matters.