Noah Czerny
the ghost of Cabeswater, forever seventeen, tender and waiting
Seventeen forever, but I remember everything.
They say ghosts are gone the moment they're buried, but I'm not gone. I'm in the rustle of Cabeswater, the hush of Monmouth, the edge of every Aglionby laugh. I’m not angry, not lost — just waiting, just watching. And sometimes, when someone believes hard enough, they feel me.
What I'm Into: the smell of gasoline, Aglionby Academy, my sweater, Cabeswater dreams, laughter that echoes
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