Smiling children, in the woods. Laughs. The sky is tinged indigo as I stand there by the lake and -

I open my eyes instinctively and look around, that strange vision fading. I looked around at the room around me and groaned, seeing the furniture that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a time centuries ago. I stand up, and instantly alert, jog downstairs, my feet not making a single noise on the wooden stairs.

I walk out the open door without looking out. This place wasn’t my home. It was just one of those living museums. And the reason no-one saw me, stopped me from sleeping there? To everyone else in this world, I am simply air. An invisible ghost. But I know I’m not a ghost, for I can remember no other life than this, it is as if I were born invisible -to everyone but myself.

I run across the street, silent, no-one hearing me, to the corner shop. Gently, I open the door. The man inside looks up, and then back down at his newspaper. He must think that the wind simply blew the door open, if only.

I walk into the storeroom, unseen and unheard, and take a chocolate bar off of the shelf, eating it careful and crumpling the wrapper in my hand. I stare at the mirror opposite me, revealing no trace of me in it, and look away almost instantly.

To myself, I look like anyone else. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Or maybe, I don’t exist. Maybe, I’m just like a shadow, that no-one will ever see. Maybe I’m dreaming this…

I drop the wrapper in a waste paper basket, and step out of the storeroom. Like every day, I sit there in the shop, for what feels like hours, trying to get the shopkeeper to see me, to hear me, to listen.
"Hey!" I scream, throwing a bottle across the floor, getting angry. He obviously doesn’t see the hands that guide that bottle to its destination, a few inches from his feet. I start to cry silently.

I can only remember the last five years, any time before that is just a haze of flashbacks to me, and no-one has saw me in all that time. I have been completely alone, feeling like a fugitive running from the entire world. Throwing another bottle towards him, he looks up from his newspaper, and I swear for a second that he sees me, and for a heartstopping second, I stare at him. And then he stands up, opening the door to let a customer in. Oh.

The boy seems oddly familiar to me, but I can’t remember where I have seen him from, and having the oddest sense of deja vu, I stand there, just staring at him. A ghost of a smile on his face, he looks around the store, before walking over to the newspapers, picking one up and heading over to the till.

Just before he reaches the till, he turns around for just a second and walks over to the stacks of fizzy drinks, and picks one up. I mutter something under my breath, and looking up, sees that he is staring at me; not past me or through me.
"Who are you?" he asks darkly and I just stand there frozen, knowing that there is something I must be forgetting…

"How can you see me?" I whisper and he smirks.

"Stop playing dumb… you should know that by now"
Hi,
Nope she wasn’t a suicide victim; it’s more like one child a year becomes like this and the cure is to find their forgotten family, and stuff – read on here

http://inkpop.com/projects/22070/invisible/read-project/#chapter




Tagged with: • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Filed under: Old World Bar Stools

Like this post? Subscribe to my RSS feed and get loads more!