Being a teen is hard, but being a dead teen is harder.
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A few weeks ago I died. My cause of death, suicide, but today I got sent back, it was because of "not being ready yet" or the classic "it's not your time". Once I got back nothing was the same, it was liike I was a ghost, but I could do mortal things, like sleep, eat. but noone from before knew who I was, it was like I had become nothing, even to my mother, a biter forgotten memory, yea thats describes it.

About three days after being back I glanced at my reflection seeing that I wasen't in my body, but someones so much prettyer than mine, I now had layerd long blond hair, with freckles along my nose and my cheeks, I was also much taller about 5"6, thin too, my smile was just perfect I guess, and I had boobs, fucking boobs. My old "body" had so many flaws, ugly brown hair, and flat chest, short, and just everything wrong.

By the way I had a one room apertment, I didn't know how I got it, it was just like it was handed to me. Maybe in this life I was someone important, I say that because the phone that was in my bedroom ( I don't know how I got that either) was always getting calls, and it was packed with voice mails to the point where no one could leave one, the funny thing about it they where all adressed to someone by the name of Echo. Ever since I was a little girl I loved that name, I always wished my name was Echo rather than Jane, Echo just had a ring to it, you know?

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Blah reading that myself I relize how bad it is, I promise it gets better, I mean it only gose up from here....