My name is Myrtle Henderson and this is my life story.

An unfortunate few of you may have a life story like mine, but unlike you - mine is complete, as I am dead.

It isn't too bad being dead you know. Its quite pleasant in fact, if I am true to myself. I quite like my quiet little toilet u-bend. But well, me being me, I have to present a sorrowful face to the world since that's what Moaning Myrtle is expected to do.

Even though my last name is Henderson, very few remember it or know it now. I have always been "Moaning Myrtle" to countless generations of the rude students of Hogwarts. Not only when I was dead, but even when I was alive - I was called Moaning Myrtle. I suppose this was because of my tendency to cry and whine about bullies and schoolwork and other things like that, to everyone. I did make quite a few scenes in the Common Room, even if I do say so myself. But in my defence, I never did the moaning in front of anyone who had once told me to shut up. But then, rumour mongering has always been a rather unfortunate habit of Hogwartians.

Also, I have a valid reason for my moaning and sniffling. I have to deal with rude girls coming into my toilet and then when I get out to greet them or to tell them to get out, they scream or call rude things at me. Sometimes even boys come in! Disgraceful!
Though once, a very cute boy did come with his two friends and he didn't even make fun of me! I remember wishing he was dead so he could share my toilet u-bend. But, he survived. Oh well. Better luck next time to me, I suppose.

But back to rude girls and their rudeness. I have to deal with all this and then it is expected of me not to cry about it. Apparently ghosts don't have feelings. But then, I was teased and bullied all through my three years at Hogwarts also. Apparently geeks too don't have feelings. But I have always been an exception to this rule.

When I was officially in school, I remember being teased. And I remember it hurting. A lot. I was teased about my big eyeglasses, bad academic performance - unbecoming on a Ravenclaw, being a muggleborn - almost everything in fact.

I didn't moan about this at first. In fact, I used to retaliate initially. But then, one incident stole away whatever little strength I had to retaliate.

I remember it quite well... as I remember other tragic incidents of my life. Some would call this an exceptional memory as most of my life, and even death in fact, has been a tragedy.

It was during the middle of my first year. I was in the library trying to complete my charms essay. 'Trying' because I was hopeless at charms. Only marginally more hopeful (not better, mind) in Transfiguration, and absolutely atrocious at defence. My score of melted cauldrons was bested by only Reggie Bast, a sniffly fellow student. But I was decent in Herbology - at least not in the worst ten students of the class. (I don't know why the Sorting Hat put me in Ravenclaw - maybe it was ill on the day on of my sorting?) So overall I wouldn't say that my academic performance was anything to be proud of. But then, with a depressed and alcoholic mother and no father, one can't become brilliant, I suppose. Still, maybe the fault was all mine - I don't know. I have never been one to shoulder my responsibilities and take the blame for my actions.

Anyway, back to the story. So I was doing my charms essay. I sighed as I continued to scratch out something that may resemble first year coursework - I don't really remember. Then I was spotted by some third years from Slytherin. They must have been looking for me since, I used to do my work in the most reclusive, most dusty portion of the library where it is extremely difficult to spot anyone by chance, unless you are looking for them. So Lestrange, Flint and Avery must have been looking for me, or some other poor geek like me. And they found me and immediately descended upon me. The usual rounds of insults of mudblood, idiot, not worthy of being a Ravenclaw, four-eyes and the like followed. But I was in a specially brave mood that day and I retaliated by saying something defensive of myself. I don't really remember what I said. but I do remember the malicious glee that lit up their eyes on finding a struggling victim. Immediately I regretted opening my mouth. Then rubbing their hands in anticipation of the torture they were going to inflict upon me, they advanced.
I remember kicking myself for choosing such a remote corner of the library as now it would make it impossible for anyone to even notice what was going on.

I don't remember who started first, or whether all of them descended upon me like vultures, but I remember feeling paralyzed in fear as my essay was ripped to shreds, my schoolbag taken from me and my books thrown out. I remember feeling sick as they spat at me and slapped me twice or thrice...

After that, the details are a little blurry, but I do remember wanting to die or sink in the ground or just be anywhere but there. I remember feeling as if the universe was mocking me with the perfectly gorgeous day outside. I actually felt as if I was dead at some point... but then suddenly it all stopped. It seemed that my attackers had gotten tired of me not struggling anymore and they had decided to leave me there, after hiding my table with a notice-me-not charm. I remember lying there bloody (I think I had a few broken ribs from when Flint had thrown my books at me and I had fallen on the table due to their weight) and miserable with my school things strewn around me like garbage. I remember praying.. and I remember falling unconcious.. or just asleep at some point.

I don't know how but when I woke up I found myself in the Common Room with my robes patched and my bag still half torn and half the books missing, but others beside me. I remember noticing a note tucked to my bag stating that I had fallen down the stairs and I was found asleep there by my mysterious helper. But on further introspection, I decided that it was probably those Slytherins who had made up this story and put me in the Common Room for fear of getting caught. Nevertheless, they did what they set out to do - they had effectively removed any fight I had had in me. They were the ones responsible for converting me into the moaning mess I am today.

This incident was never reported to the teachers for two reasons. One, I was afraid.
And the second - their story about me falling asleep after falling down the stairs and made me a laughing stock of the population of Hogwarts. Not even the teachers took me seriously after that - who would believe a dorky girl who falls asleep after falling down the stairs?

I spent the rest of my days at Hogwarts subdued. Even in the holidays, at home, I was very quiet and reclusive. My mother never noticed me since I was so quiet and she was drunk most of the time. I used to cook and clean the house in the day and complete my homework at night. It was a miserable existence, but one that I was used to.

Second year came and went with me getting teased and bullied every other day, but no incident had ever gone on to the point that that library incident had. I had stopped retaliating and I became a pitiful whining mess. I used to moan and cry and whine about the unfairness of it all, in the common room since that was the only place where I used to get a semblance of sympathy. But soon their disgust at me for getting such low marks and degrading the name of Ravenclaw, won over their sympathy and people started to avoid me or tried to let me know in the most logical way possible that I was ruining their study time.

There was this girl, Olive Hornby in my year, who was especially vocal in expressing her disgust with my crying. I hated her. Still do, in fact.
She used to say right in front of my face, "Bullying is a necessary part of school life and it is supposed to make you more resilient and brave. But in your case, 'Moaning Myrtle', it just seems to be making you more of a whiner. Do shut up and take your whining to a remote corner of the castle, where us civilized people won't have to deal with your mess. Go and moan to a portrait or a suit of armour or a gargoyle. Do whatever you want, but please do not dirty the Common Room with your stupid miserableness." This was her typical speech and I must have heard it at least a hundred times, in second year alone. I tried to steer clear of Hornby, but unlike her words, she used to actively seek me out and give me a scathing dressing down in public. In front of teachers she used to pretend to be so very sorry for me and my rotten luck. Oh gods, how I hated her.

You know, she was indirectly the reason I died.

It was in third year. The term had just started when all of a sudden peple started getting attacked. It was only muggleborns like me that got attacked. I remember how at least fifteen to twenty students got petrified in Hufflepuff itself - most of the muggleborns go in that house. A few Gryffindors and even a few Ravenclaws had gotten petrified but no Slytherins.
It was rumoured that the Chamber Of Secrets, a secret chamber built by Salazar Slytherin, had been opened. It was said to contain a mythical monster that was supposedly behind these attacks. Students of my house could be seen in the library at all times, save mealtimes, searching for evidence of this chamber. And although Ravenclaws are supposed to be good at researching, not one of them could find any proof of it except the rumours stated in "Hogwarts - A History."

Armando Dippet, our Headmaster at the time wasn't doing anything but twiddling his thumbs. All muggleborns school over had started to walk in groups, but me - being an outcast used to hang around at the fringes of these groups.

But to come to the day I died. It had happened in the afternoon. I was coming from class and was walking on the first floor, trailing behind my year mates, when Olive Hornby and her friends came up behind me. She started her usual tirade, but today, when she got to the part of me having four eyes and it being obvious that my glasses were the reason for me not seeing the stairs and falling down them, I snapped and bolted to the nearest bathroom in tears. I sat in a cubicle and cried. After a few hours, I was more composed but I didn't really want to leave my cubicle. So I sat there until I heard a voice - a boy's voice.

Now that was unacceptable! What was a boy doing inside a girls bathroom? Upto no good, I'll be bound. Moreover the boy was speaking in some other language - he was making eerie hissing sounds. It was scary but I poked my head out of the cubicle to tell him off. But just as I came out, I saw a pair of big yelllow eyes that sort of hypnotized me. I suddenly seized up, all the while looking into those eyes. Then everything went dark.

I woke up after what seemed like an eternity. I saw nothing but a sort of cloudy mist. I could see something green ahead that reminded me of Olive. Since I was still brimming with resentment about Olive Hornby, I came back. Somehow, I knew I was dead when I was in the cloudy place, but the thought didn't faze me much. But due to my anger at Hornby, I got the chance to come back as a ghost. It was like the mist sensed my emotions and sent me back to earth as a ghost. Whatever it was, I am not complaining.

Nobody missed me even when I was alive. Took them hours to find my body- I know, I was sitting there invisible waiting for them. Olive Hornby came into the bathroom,''Are you in here again, sulking Myrtle?", she said, ''because Professor Dippet asked me to look for you''
And then she saw my body... ooooh, she didn't forget that until her dying day, I made sure of that...

I finally got my revenge. I haunted her to an inch of her life. Oh, she regretted the way she had tormented me! I used to turn invisible and whisper nasty things in her ears about killing people while she was eating, making her shriek and spill her food for seemingly no reason at all - effectively making her a laughing stock. And I used to turn invisible and randomly float in and out of her while she was in the hallways making her seize up due to the cold and then jump around trying to get warm, shiver uncontrollably etc. Oh haunting her was great fun!
Too bad it didn't last.

After months of tormenting her like this, I followed her to her brother's wedding. While she was carrying the rings, I got into her, making her shiver and shriek and drop the rings. But that was too much for her apparently.
She went to the Ministry to report me - the telltale. When the Ministry threatened me with forced exorcism, I relented and had to settle down for making faces at her in hallways. But then, she left Hogwarts. I heard that she transferred to Beauxbatons.
Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.

But unfortunately that was the last bit of fun I had while being dead. Since then, all I have been is a butt of jokes. People come in and shriek on seeing me come out of the toilet! (Haven't they ever seen a ghost before?) Well okay, once I did go through a girl on coming out but thats no reason to ostracize me! Once a girl even lobbed a dirty book at me! That.. that rude girl KNEW it would go right through me and she did it on purpose! There's no decency in the students of Hogwarts now... They indulge in illegal activities in MY bathroom without even asking for my permission! And then they don't even have the courtesy to keep their promises!
I mean, I kept their secret and then he even promised me that he would visit me and then he didn't! Oh, by the way I am talking about the cute boy I told you about earlier - Harry Potter his name was. He used to come into my bathroom with a red haired rude boy (probably the brother of the rude girl who threw a book through me) and a bushy haired girl. They used to make some foul concoction in my bathroom despoiling it. But I didn't complain, nor did I tell tales! I just told about that girl turning into a cat to Sir Nicholas (I don't call him Nearly Headless Nick because I know how it feels to be called by unsavoury nicknames); but he forbade me from spreading the information - he had a soft spot for Harry and his friends, I think.
Well anyway, Harry promised me he would visit me. He PROMISED! But I didn't see him until a year later! And then too when I started spying on him while he was in the bath.. he did have a good body. But he said sorry, and I forgave him and then I helped him when he was in the lake with a weird pair of gills and fins.. But still he didn't visit me again. I saw him next when he almost murdered a boy - Draco, who was very much like me; bullied, tormented and lost. I liked him.

But other than Harry and Draco, i have never met any civilised students, yet. And now, I don't think I am ever going to meet any student who doesn't cringe or sneer at the sight of me. I am tired of this miserable existence now... I think its time for me to move on.

But before I do that, I need to make sure people remember me. Hmm.. maybe if I ask nicely, Sir Nicholas will ask Peeves to put a plaque about me in my cubicle.. "A tormented soul who lived a life of tragedy before succumbing to death in a most tragic manner, lead a miserable and tragic existence of a ghost met her end here - Myrtle Henderson (27 March 1929 – 13 June 1943)."

Ah... that has a nice ring to it, don't you think? I quite like the word 'tragic', it sounds simply brilliant doesn't it? Now, how to go about asking Sir Nicholas.. and I think I should probably add in a basilisk somewhere, since that's how I died.. or maybe I should stick a copy of my autobiography - "The Tragic Trials And Tribulations Of A Tormented Teenager - An Autobiography Of Myrtle Henderson" on the wall of the bathroom stall?
This will take some time, to sort out the details and the preparations and... oh there's so much to do! I never knew one needed to do so many things before ending one's existence! Ah well. I should start working on Sir Nicholas.. so goodbye to you!
And wish me luck!