I am an invisible girl.
A nonentity if you will. In school people's eyes slid around me. They brushed past me in the halls like I wasn't there. When I became an orphan I got no sympathy from my peers. How could they feel the pain of someone who didn't exist? The world isn't a great place when you have no friends and no family.
I remember standing in my drab black clothes at the funeral wondering what was going to happen to me. My parents were poor, and had no friends. I wasn't eighteen, I couldn't care for myself. I had no money. Something would have to be done with me but what?
I remember overhearing this from the two police officers who invaded my home hours after I found out that I was alone in the world. I was standing right there but they didn't notice me because no one does. Ever.
It was raining and I was cold, and hardly anyone came to send my parents off, just me and some guy in a suit, and the rain kept coming but I didn't care.
The man in the suit muttered something unintelligible. I wondered when the priest would come so we could get this thing over with. The rain kept coming and I was starting to care.
The man muttered something again. "Kendra," he said.
My eyes snapped up to his and I received the shock of my life. He was looking at me, not around me or through me but at me, like I existed, like I was a person or something.
"How did you know my name?"
In the silence the fat rain drops spattered on the double grave between us and the man stared at me. Again the strange sensation of being noticed unsettled me. I almost wanted to reprimand him. I don't exist stop looking.
"I'm your uncle," he said amazed. "Have you never heard of me then?"
I became aware of his accent, British I thought. I noticed his watch and his suit, his shiny shoes. He screamed money, and culture, and he was claiming to be a relative of mine.
"No," I replied dryly, "I have never heard of my rich uncle."
Mr. Money Bags actually looked hurt, "Well there's brotherly love for you. Don't suppose anybody told you that you're coming to live with me either then did they?"
"No," I said simply. "I would appreciate it if you would either leave or shut up please. Both would be preferred. I am trying to say goodbye here."
Mr. Money Bags just grinned, "We'll have to work on your manners, Kenny." He remarked.
He turned around and walked away. I was at a loss. Some strange guy was springing it on me that he was my uncle and he's the one that gets to leave in a huff. I was going to let him go. Really. I was.
I watched him walk away. He walked just like my father, they both had this weird bow legged thing going on. That was what convinced me. Uncle Money Bags also had eyes that really saw me. I had never been seen.
I called out after him. "Hey! Hey!" The cheap black dye of my dress dripped out with the rain so that as I ran after him I left black drops in my wake.
My uncle turned around and presented me with my father's smile.
"Don't think that I was leaving you," he said seriously, "I won't. I was merely going to get your cousin out of the car."
We were right in front of a limo. The door swung open before we reached it. My cousin looked at me and I at him.
He was everything I wasn't. Big, muscular, confident, imposing, there was no way anyone had ever dared to ignore him. They couldn't if they tried. He was the kind of person who shoved past me because they "couldn't" see me. He was the sort of powerful popular kid that I instinctively avoided. All six foot something of this was my cousin.
I finally looked up at his eyes, they were looking past me. I wasn't surprised. The comfortable feeling of being invisible settled back on me and was destroyed when I felt a big warm hand settle on my shoulder.
"Family," he acknowledged me. He looked me in the eye and nodded wordlessly.
I was officially visible.