There's A Ghost In This Room

My name is Bethany Carter Waters.
I'm a senior at Dulaney High, not that anybody actually knows who I am, nor cares.
I'm not very good at bios, but I guess I could tell you that I love rock music, I like to write poetry, I've got pretty good grades in school…oh, and my best friend is a ghost.
I guess that last bit of information was most interesting, so I'll talk about that.
It all started when I was five years old. There was a little six year old boy named Alex, who showed up in my backyard one day; and I pretty much befriended him, and played with him all the time. I saw him pretty often, and in plenty of different places. I would get so excited, and tell my parents all about him. They told me that they were happy that I made myself a friend, and wanted to meet him. But they weren't impressed when I showed them my so-called “friend,” who seemed to be invisible.
I could see him perfectly fine, but they couldn't. They thought I was lying to them, but I kept trying my hardest to prove to them that I wasn't crazy. I started to grow older, at around age nine or so, and I still communicated with Alex.
My parents began to get a bit worried and quizzical about my behavior, seeing as I was getting a little too old to have “imaginary friends.”
My mom worried about my mental state at least, but my dad just became downright harsh. I mean, he was always a bit of an asshole 70% of the time, but never like this.
He got fed up with all of my “jibber jabber”, and began to get embarrassed of me, seeing as he would have a “fucked up child.”
He would drink and threaten me, telling me that if I didn't stop “lying through my fucking teeth about that damned boy,” he would kick my ass.
And kick my ass, he did.
I'd cry out of frustration and rejection towards my father, swearing to him that Alex was real, and that I wasn't lying. But that only earned me a hard slap in the face. Or some days, a shove against the wall, or the edge of a table. And if he was feeling really brutal, he'd twist my arm back until I was screaming and crying, or he'd push me to the ground and give me a good kick in the gut.
This went on for years, but the fact that I still denied it even through middle school, just made him more and more angry. It was like you could just smell his frustration when he walked into the room.
But one night, changed everything. We got in another one of our arguments about Alex, and I just went off that day. I had never done it before, and I still don't know what possessed me to; knowing good and well what my father was capable of doing.
But, I told him that Alex was indeed “fucking real,” and that he's a “horrible fucking father for not believing his own fucking daughter.”
I'll never forget the look of pure rage in his eyes, when he threw his fist back, before planting it right into my face; causing me to lose a tooth.
After that, my mother decided that she had had enough of just standing back and watching this violence unfold in her household. She kicked my dad out, making our family officially broken.
Nothing was ever the same again, after that. You would think that our family had changed for the better, but it didn't.
My father completely disowned me, and I haven't heard from him in four years. Neither has my mother. My mom loved my father very much, so much, even, that she hadn't gotten rid of him sooner than she did. When he left, she became extremely depressed. She became a big drinker, and whenever she's sad, she recklessly drinks all of her pain away. And I guess I'll have to take the blame for that. If I would've just kept my stupid mouth shut all those years, we wouldn't even have had this problem.
But, this whole situation took a huge toll on me, too, of course.
I decided that it's better off that I don't speak anymore..at least when voicing my opinion, and such. I developed social anxiety from it. I have an incredible fear of being judged, or physically hurt, by my actions or by what I say.
Its pretty much taken over my life, and turned it into a miserable, lonely, dark pit of despair.
But luckily, I have Alex. He's my best friend, my only shoulder to cry on. He's always been there to comfort me, even back when my father would hurt me or yell at me.
Alex is pretty much the only thing that's keeping me alive, even if he isn't. He doesn't come to school with me though, which is rough. And just like before, no one else can see him, but me. It really frustrates me from time to time, because I guess I just think back to how it terribly affected me and my family, for that very reason. But, I really don't know anything about how that works. I don't know how he died, or how he's here.
Really, I'm just glad that he is here.
I just wish he could be here all the time.

Notes

Wow okay hi hello :)
I have been inspired by the fantasy/sci-fi stuff that I've read, so here it is!
Sorry if the first three chapters kind of suck, bc I had to write them all over after my phone broke and I lost my writings. But yeah.

I REALLY REALLY HOPE THAT YOU LIKE THIS.

Thanks! :)