This is my version of Carrie's backstory from The Amazing World of Gumball. All rights are copyrighted to their correct owners.

As part of Bullying, Self-Injury, and Suicide Awareness, I would also like to dedicate this story for those young souls who have been victimized from bullying and their lives ended very short.

Fallen Ghost

My name is Carrie Krueger.

You may know me as the only ghost in Elmore Junior High. In my world, there are two different types of people; there are people who are overly optimistic and love life, and there are people who are pessimistic and think that life is worthless and hopeless.

I'm one of those people. I lived in the world of lies, pain, torture, despair, horror, and sorrow. I am nothing—nothing but a tormented victim of abuse and agony.

You may be wondering: am I really born a ghost?

The answer… is no.

I was not born a ghost at all. I lied about that. I was born as a young human being and alas, my life ended really short. I died very young.

I remembered it like it was yesterday:

Growing up, there was never any love in my family. All my parents care about is themselves. You can assume that I'm like the black sheep in my family; I never exist to any of them.

My father was very neglectful and he barely has time to bond with me; I once made him a gift for Father's Day—which is a drawing of us—when I was 5 and apparently, he just carelessly threw it in the trash. He even told me to get lost every time I come near him. My mother was different—she's an alcoholic and a chain smoker who does nothing but laze around and watch television. She even refused to cook and clean for me and at times—she would hit me whenever I do something wrong, like going through all of her personal belongings in their bedroom. I was just a child—I was naïve back then and I didn't know any better.

Not to mention, one family evening dinner, my parents were too busy having a heated conversation while we were eating. I tried to get their attention and it was hard to do so with my submissive voice—so I got up from my seat and I angrily threw my plate at the wall. At least they stopped, but—both of my parents were really pissed off at what I've just done. My mother got up to me and she starts screaming, cursing, and hitting me repeatedly and then she dragged me to my room. She forced me to stay there for the rest of the night and never bother to come out.

I persistently cried on that time. I hated my parents so much.

As I grow older, life in elementary school was rough. Usually, I wear a lot of dark clothing and people see me differently from others. All throughout those years, I was being manipulated to wear the mask whenever I get around with classmates and teachers. In reality, I'm depressed and miserable as hell about the torture and pain I receive from my parents. I was even forced to never speak to anyone; I had to be silent every day.

Whenever teachers asked me about my day, I had to lie to them. Lies such as,

"Fine."

"I'm okay."

"Great."

"It was alright."

But no, everything is not alright.

Every day in school, I get really bad grades on my tests, but I could care less about that. What makes me solemn the most: everyone bullies me. Whenever I show up, the entire class would abuse me—both physically and emotionally. They pull my hair, they throw things at me, they vandalized my desk behind my back, they call me names, like 'emo girl' and 'a freak', and—they pour food and milk all over me at lunchtime. Most of the time, they would reveal all of my scars to one another, and harass me for it. I tried to talk to the teacher about it—but she said there's nothing she can do to save me; she just sat there and watched me suffer in agony as the class continued to victimize me. Ignoring them never solves anything, it just makes things even worse.

So every now and then, whenever at lunchtime, I had to run and hide in the girls' bathroom. Sitting behind the stall was the only way for me to get away from those—demons. Not only I had to eat lunch there, the stall was also a perfect hiding place to—self-mutilate. That's right, when I was 8, I begin to cut myself. I cut my wrists, my forearms, even my thighs, and it was a good thing that no one even noticed me that I have brought sharp razor blades to school. It was the only way to relief myself from what I've been through.

However, most of the time, the bathroom can be suffering too. As I stay inside the stalls, I watched from behind the ajar-door as the girls begin giggling and gossiping. I hated that so much! I always abhorred the sounds of laughter, happiness, and friends getting along, especially when they talk about me. Hearing and seeing all of that makes me what to rip their heads off and then stab them to death. You can already tell that I never made any friends back then.

Out in the hallways, I developed a crush on this boy, whose locker was next to mine. Fortunately, he happens to be the only one in school to ever not harm me for any reason. He was kind, generous, funny—and so cute. Every time I get near him, I couldn't stop looking and thinking about him. When the time I thought would come, I was about to go to him and talk. Unfortunately, he left without even noticing me—and he ran to that other girl. In complete despair and crying out tears, I watched him hug her and soon, they walked away together—holding hands. It really broke my heart that my very first crush of my life has feelings for someone else, and not me. I knew right away that it was not love at first sight.

That girl, also known as the most popular girl in school, he walked with—was Penny Fitzgerald.

The boy that I really like: Gumball Watterson.

From that day forward, my feelings for Gumball have strengthened, even though he doesn't feel the same way as I do. The depression for me never ended.

By the time I was 11, which was my final year at Elmore Elementary, the entire school thought it would be funny if they start gossiping about me on the social network since it was the senior year. The torment was worst than ever. When I'm around them, they start by going with what others say about me.

I checked the social website that they go on every day. It horrifies me that they posted pictures about me and they described me as a 'slut', 'bitch', 'attention-seeker', 'the school's biggest hater', you know it. There was loud laughter and there was severe hatred. To make matters worse, when I read through the comments—people say that the world would be better off if I'm not around anymore—and they say that I should go die.

I have never seen something so heartbreaking in my life. I still couldn't believe that people would go that far into tormenting me like that. None of this would have happened if I had the audacity to go to the teachers and tell them the truth, but I couldn't snitch on them. If I did, they would hate me even more.

Without even turning back, I exit out of the school, not even giving a damn that I missed class. I ran straight home, ran to my room, locked the door, and cry. Thank God, my parents weren't home on that time; they won't even care about me anyway—no one will.

I sobbed hysterically on my bed, thinking about everything that has happened to me from the past. I thought about what those kids said about me dying—and maybe they're right all along. Maybe the world WOULD be better off without me. That's when I have made my choice.

I left a note on the door that says:

I'm sorry if I was ever born. I cannot handle this any longer. I deserved this. Goodbye forever.

I grabbed a piece of clothesline rope, tied it into a noose to the ceiling fan and around my neck, and finally…

I hung myself…

…right into my bedroom.

I died in seconds.

So that's my story. Now you know why I'm a ghost—a fallen ghost who have suffered so much pain when growing up.

Minutes after my suicide, I realized that I've changed. I'm still the same old Carrie Krueger with the same old white hair and the same old trade-marked bow with a skull that I love to wear all the time. But what's changed is that I'm a new form of species—a form that has altered me from the past.

As I begin my new life, I have improved. I've made better friends with other ghosts from the underworld. They even asked me if I want to join them and be away from the mortal world.

The answer: No thanks.

Why? Because I want to give it a second chance.

As soon as I have enrolled to my first year at Elmore Junior High, as a ghost, I realized how different everybody looks. Some are eccentric, some are talented, and most of them are very unique—like me.

I've made new friends, like Teri, Masami, and Carmen; and what's even better—is that they accepted me for who I really am. And I'm just glad that I don't have to wear that mask on anymore. It's like they can understand me.

It already came to my senses that being a ghost is better than I expected. To make things even better: he happens to be in the same school as me. My very first crush.

There he is, standing by his locker gathering all of his things inside. I'm not sure if he's still with Penny, but who knows what might happen? Maybe faith is telling me something that there might be a connection between us. Maybe not now, maybe somewhere in the future, there might be more than friendship.

Finally, gathering up my courage, I walk up to him. I touch his shoulder.

"Hey, Gumball," I tell him.

He turns around to gaze at me—and he smiles, very sympathetically.

I did the same, knowing that he still remembers me—as Carrie Krueger—whose suicide will never be forgotten... and her life will always be in their hearts.