Ghosted Meme Novels & Stories

Krisha's POV If he doesn't want to talk to me, he should just tell me directly rather than pretending he doesn't see me. Like, am I a ghost? " Ghost for today. " I posted. It took me awhile to get one react unlike Zeke who got thousands of reactor with just a second. But it don't matter, as long as I can post. One hour had passed passed he never even reacted to my post. I stalked his account to see his latest post but his last post is just a day ago. He was suppose to pose at this time, why don't he?

“You think money makes you our equal?” “No,” I said. “But it keeps me out of your reach.” *** Once home, I pulled up my DMs and opened the anonymous user’s account. Guest 9271. No name, no videos, no profile picture… just a ghost. I opened up the chat and sent him a message. Me: Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but I’ll repay you. GUEST_9271: No repayment. Me: I can’t accept this from a stranger.

Instead, my heart lurches. A notification from the unofficial group. I’ve been tagged. I don’t want to open it. My thumb hovers over the screen, trembling. But curiosity—or masochism—gets the better of me. I tap. The screen floods with messages, reactions, laughing emojis, and sneering comments. My stomach knots. The post by someone named GhostBella sits at the top, like a bomb waiting to go off. GhostBella:

I want all of your attention. Aria stared at her phone, still smelling like tequila and lime. Her body reacted instantly, a warm pulse between her legs at the sight of his name. Aria: I actually have plans tonight. Ghost: Cancel them. She laughed under her breath, half-amused, half-nervous. The audacity. Aria: It doesn’t work like that. Ghost has tipped $20,000. The notification made her sit down on her bed hard. Twenty thousand dollars. Just like that.

I’ve been ghosted. Okay, technically, it’s only been twenty-four hours. But in girl math, that’s like six months, especially when you’re waiting for a text from a helicopter pilot who called you “Sticky” like it was the most charming thing he’s ever said in his life. Theo. THEO.

You won’t regret this. Enid. Where did you travel to? Or when are you coming back. Each message sat there, sent into the void. Delivered, yes. But not a single one was marked “Read.” They were digital ghosts, unanswered, unseen. He’s ghosting me. The thought was a cold, sharp shard in my gut. He gave me the number. He put it in my phone himself. Why? Just to twist the knife one more time? To give me the illusion of a connection he had no intention of honoring?

Without a second thought, I typed out a message to Ghost, my fingers tapping fast against the screen. Me: Next time, you better bring protection. ╰─────────────┄ °❀ It didn’t take long before my phone buzzed in my hand, his response lighting up my screen almost instantly, like he’d been waiting for me. ☠︎︎° ┄─────────────╮ Ghost: I don't remember agreeing to “your” rules, Red. ╰─────────────┄ °☠︎︎ I paused, lips pressing together, my pulse quickening. My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I shot back another text.

"What? Whose funeral?" Richard's voice shot up. "Selena Sanchez, don't joke about something like that. Chloe is our daughter, not some tool to get attention. You're her mother. How can you say something so awful? You don't deserve to be a mother." I didn't answer. I hung up. The memorial was held in a small chapel. Gray clouds hung overhead. A light rain fell, turning the air heavy and suffocating. I stood quietly with Chloe's urn in my arms.

" Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that. "But you can see ghost duh!” I said with full of sarcasm. "Yep. If it's a real ghost, and are you scared in ghosts? Opps.. you’re a ghoster remember?" And my crazy friend laughed as if she wasn't a ghoster too. "Wow am I the only ghoster here? You too" I muttered to her. "Hmm Aeshe whats the feeling of being ghosted?” she asked me out of nowhere. "Did you see the guys who cry when we are leaving them? And to see a guy crying with just a week of flirting with them it would have been a lot of pain that it caused them to cry like that." I said to her.

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.