If you’ve read this far, I want to say something directly to you.
Maybe you’re here because you were considering working with Eternal Ghostwriting.
Maybe you’ve already signed a contract and your gut is starting to whisper.
Or maybe you, like me, have already been burned—and you’re looking for proof that you’re not alone. That you’re not crazy. That this wasn’t your fault.
Whatever brought you here:
I see you. I hear you. I was you.
This blog isn’t just a personal testimony—it’s a mirror. It’s what I wish had existed when I was Googling their name. When I was weighing my options. When I was telling myself, “Surely this can’t be a scam—they sound so professional.”
If that’s where you are now—please let this be the sign you needed.
What happened to me didn’t happen because I was stupid…(I’m still trying to convince myself of that…)
It happened because I believed in my story.
Because I believed in people.
Because I believed that contracts are legally bounding.
And they took that belief and twisted it into leverage.
But I’m not staying silent.
And neither should you.
Because when we speak up—when we document, when we share, when we refuse to be shamed—we turn exploitation into exposure.
We become the thing they never saw coming: accountability.
To the dreamers, the students, the writers who think $4,000 isn’t “enough” to fight for—let me say this clearly:
$4,000 is not small.
$4,000 is rent.
$4,000 is tuition.
$4,000 is the difference between debt and breathing room.
And to Eternal Ghostwriting: you could’ve done the right thing.
You could’ve honored the contract.
You could’ve taken responsibility.
You chose not to.
Now I’ve chosen to tell the truth.
Loudly. Permanently. Publicly.
You’ve ruined people quietly for long enough.
Let this be the blog that makes the next person stop before they sign.
Let this be the digital trail you can’t outrun.
Because I may never get my $4,000 back.
But if I stop even one more person from losing theirs—
I’ve already won.