The feeling that I was completely alone seemed to be growing by the minute. It didn't matter that I was surrounded by people. It didn't matter when I was completely invisible.
I was sitting at the back of the classroom fidgeting with my fingers impatiently. I had been in here for what seemed to be an hour. The patterns on the ceiling were starting to form together and my desk felt like it was getting smaller. I swung my legs back and forth, faster as if that would make time go by faster.
Beside me a boy snored, making me continuously look in that direction. I wondered briefly if a fly really went into his mouth. There are some things you just shouldn't wonder about. The girls in front of me had been talking throughout the entire class period. A little part of me was annoyed by the sound of their voices. A bigger part made me wish I had someone to talk to as well.
I can't blame them for wanting to talk. The guest speaker was droning on about something seemingly unimportant. His sickly face some how caught my interest. He was literally all skin and bones. His entire frame shook slightly as if he was struggling even to stand. I wondered briefly if he should be in a hospital instead of giving this lecture. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke.
Almost as if my prayers had been answered, the bell rang. I waited until everyone else exited the room before getting up. This was the last class of the day so the elderly man quickly packed up his bag. I felt sorry for him when I saw the slight shake in his hands.
He walked to the door at the same time as I did. I stood diligently as I let him pass through the doors first.
Time seemed to stop as I watch his shoes get caught on air. He stumbled slightly and I knew he was going to fall. I had a feeling that a fall for someone his age would result in dire consequences.
I automatically reached out, somehow catching his waist before he could have a disastrous meeting with the floor. It wasn't that hard to hold on to the frail man. He was probably lighter than a feather. I feared that if I held him too tightly he would break.
He looked up at me and smiled. "Thank yo-"
Something began to happen. I had no idea what was happening, but for one moment, all my surroundings went black. At first I saw absolutely nothing which caused me to panic. Had I suddenly become unable to see? Was I dreaming? Was I trapped in my own imagination? Was I hallucinating? Some part of me said that I was wrong on all accounts. This was just a different reality.
Suddenly lights began to flicker all around me. Small, bright, lantern-like lights; they were blindingly beautiful. There were about twenty of them around me, but I was only concerned with one; the one that was in my arms.
This light was a little different from the others around me. It didn't shine as bright. The moments when it flickered off were longer than the others. It made the moments it shone even brighter though. I felt myself begin to salivate. I wanted it. I would do anything to have it.
Something else besides the lanterns joined us in the darkness. It wasn't as beautifully bright. It was darker than the darkness it self. Was it a hand? I wasn't complete sure, but I saw razor sharp claws. Maybe it was a mouth with the sharpest of fangs. I would never be sure what this glittering dark thing was. I just knew it was a part of me.
The claws reached forward, catching the light on its sharp edges. It seemed like the sweetness of a lovers embrace. It would be a mistake to think this being loves anything. I watched as instead of the embrace I was expecting the claws dug into the light.
I had thought of it as a lantern. I had thought of it as an object. It had been my mistake, because this light was clearly alive. It was life itself.
As the greedy darkness sunk its claws into the most beautiful thing on Earth, I heard screaming. It made my ears bleed. The old man seemed to be screaming in my head. I didn't know how to stop what was happening. I just knew it was too late.
The claws dug deeper. Blood. Blood began to escape from the light. I could feel the enjoyment this extension of my self was getting. The moment the blood dripped it turned black, blending in with the darkness.
The more that the blood dripped, the more enjoyment I felt. It wasn't just enjoyment, I felt like energy itself. I had been dead for so long that I orgot what it felt like to be alive. This was true power I was feeling. This high was what I needed to begin living again. The last drop of blood dripped, but the power I felt didn't ebb.
His light went out. All the other lights around him faded to the blackness. The real world reappeared before my eyes.
I could once again hear lockers shutting and opening, the distinct sound of students running down the hall. Others loitered around discussing the different events of the day.
I watched as his eyes slowly shut. Before they completely closed I heard him whisper something. Despite the way the words were softly spoken I could hear them clearly. They were words that would probably haunt me forever.
"You're the devil."
I stood there with him slumped in my arms. I looked around slowly. People had stopped in the halls. The faces ranged from horror to sadness to confusion. The thing was they weren't just looking at him; they were also looking at me.
I suddenly felt happier then I've felt in a long time. I didn't know if it was from the high I was still feeling, or the fact that they were all paying attention to me.
I was immediately disgusted with myself. How could I be happy when I was holding a man that had fainted, or possibly worse? I didn't know how I could have become so desperate for human contact.
Actually, that wasn't true at all. I knew how. I use to be a normal girl like everyone else. It had all started at eleven. With my growth spurt came a strange bubble around me. I wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. I would have a conversation with someone one day and the next day, they would complete forget. People knew that I was there, but I don't think I really registered as a tangible being. I was completely ignored. I don't think my teachers would even know I came to school if it weren't for the fact that I always turned in my assignments.
At first I thought everyone was playing a huge prank on me. After a week, I was surprised anyone could hold out that long. Two weeks passed, I was annoyed . Three, I was just frustrated. A month, worried. It had started at eleven and I was now fifteen. It had become routine.
If it wasn't for the yelling and cries of concern I would have probably stayed in my self pitying state forever.
"Call the ambulance!"
"See, I told you he looked as if he were dying."
"Is he dead?"
"Who is that girl holding him?"
"I have never seen her before."
"Did she kill him?"
Chaos had erupted, and I was one of the main attractions, the girl that nobody knows. Even though I had gone to this school since I was in first grade.
Who was I?
Why was I here?
Was there no reason?
I stayed until after the ambulance came. I wanted this attention as long as it lasted. I needed some recognition that I was still alive, that I hadn't somehow become a phantom without realizing it.
I still found that there was something wrong with the fact that I need the attention from tragedy. Ever since the man had... fainted, I had been feeling strange and not at all like myself. There was nothing good about an old man being sick.
The paramedics had said his heart was fine and his breathing was stable. They had no idea what was wrong with him. No obvious reasons. He was alive, but he seemed so cold in my arms.
Was it the fact that his soul was gone? I shook off the thought immediately. The images that I had seen were just my imagination. When you're alone all the time your imagination is your best friend. Mine seemed to have gotten a little out of hand. It was just an odd ugly coincidence.
I walked home. My feet dragged against the ground. Even though it was New York City and there were a ton of people walking down the street, no one touched me. Every person walking down the street was at least a foot away from me.
When I was ten, it had annoyed me to no ends when people would rudely bump into me. Everyone was in a hurry to get to where they needed to be and didn't care who was in the way. Yet, no one pushed me out of their path, no one touched me.
Was I a disease?
After what seemed like centuries of walking, I made it to my street. I made a thirty minute walk in fifteen minutes. It was easy when no one got in your way. The only benefit I could find from this problem.
I got the keys out of my backpack. I fumbled with them trying to find the right one. I place it in the lock and put half of my weight into turning the key. I hated this lock. The building was three stories and old enough that the locks seemed to hate me. I trudged up the stairs to my room, not daring to look up at the sickly flowery wall paper I would surely see. I would stick to staring at the probably infested beige carpet.
My room was a bright yellow. Everything in it was bright and happy. Just like how I wished my life would be. Yes, that was depressing. I think I was entitled to some depressing thoughts.
I changed out of my red and black uniform and into my street clothes before going back down the stairs to see if anything of interest was going on. Probably seeing as my parents rarely noticed me without me initiating things.
The minute I walked to first floor I could smell Italian food. How could I have missed that before? I walked to the kitchen slowly.
"Hi dad," I whispered my voice soft as always.
My dad's blue eyes looked up from what he was cooking. His light brown hair stuck to his face. "Hey Callie how was school? You were a little late coming home today.". I was actually surprised that someone who had missed three of my birthdays would notice that.
I was silent for a moment, debating whether or not to discuss the collapsing man and the attention I received because of it. All attention I received was shortly lived anyways.
"It was normal. I was doing homework at the school's library." That was a lie. I had finished all of this week's homework last week and finished next week's homework earlier this week.
"That's good." he murmured. It was obvious his attention was back to what he was cooking. My dad was the head chef of a popular restaurant. I would be scared if he wasn't in the kitchen. Tonight was his night off and he was still in the kitchen.
I turned away from him, now just noticing my mom walking in and out of the kitchen with her cell phone to her ear. Which was also a daily occurrence. She was a woman who was successful and very proud of her success. It was always work before everything else.
"No," she said in a voice that clearly spoke where her patience was at the moment. She sighed. "If I wanted you to do that then that's what I would have said. Now do you understand what you're supposed to do?" I could barely hear a buzzing noise that was the reply. "Good, now don't call me back until it's done. I don't appreciate these calls after work." She slapped the phone shut the looked at me and smiled.
She was the picture of the perfect business woman. Strawberry blond hair that was tied tightly back in a bun, Her bright blue eyes were framed by glasses, and glasses that she didn't need of course.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but her obnoxious ring tone filled the room. Her smile receded as she answered the call. "What Robert?" She managed to gracefully stomp out of the room while ranting into the phone. It had apparently been a bad day.
I sighed wondering briefly if I should wait for the call to end. No, it could last hours. On a normal day I would have waited and in the end said two words, "Hi Mom." Then I would have trudged back up the stairs to room. Today wasn't normal though. I felt powerful from the energy I had received earlier today.
I walked out of the kitchen and back upstairs to my floor. My seventeen year old sister, Sarah had the door wide open so I slowly peeked inside.
Same strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes as my mom, She was like my moms copy except she would never become even near as intelligent, and the day she wore glasses or a bun would be when Hell froze over. She was sprawled on her bed painting her nails what ever color of the week it was. This year's room theme was black and white. All the dull tones seemed to reflect her hard and cold personality. It did neglect the flair she had for the dramatics.
She unfortunately was on the phone when I looked into her room. That was something my mom and her had in common, they were both phone addicts.
Our eyes locked and I knew that I shouldn't have come in. Apparently it had been a bad day for her too. Really though, when wasn't it bad day?
She began a rant without even prompting. "What is your issue? You do this every day. You look in everyone's rooms before just going back to your own room. "Why don't you just get a life freak?" Drama queen. I had no doubt she was playing it up for the person on the phone. She just likes having something to complain about.
I stared at her for a moment deciding carefully how to reply when another streak of blonde passed by me. It didn't matter, I wouldn't have said anything anyway.
Lily looked up at me. Her eyes were blue and her hair a dirty blonde color. At the age of seven, my older sister had already turned her into a fashion obsessed zombie.
"Do my nails! Do mine!"
Sarah seemed annoyed. "Don't I get any privacy around here?" she said in a dramatic voice that reminded me of a dying animal.
I looked at the two of them with mild annoyance. Before glancing at one of the many mirrors in my sister's room. It made me angrier
I was nothing like my siblings or my mom. I didn't have long beautiful blonde hair. No, I had red wavy hair that just barely brushed my shoulder. Not orange, but an almost unnatural disgusting red. My skin was pale and pasty. My eyes were golden brown with specks of green. I wanted to have blonde hair and blue eyes. Next to them I looked like Raggedy Anne trying to be Malibu Barbie. I could always dye my hair, but without an eye transplant I was stuck with these eyes.
I continued to stare at the mirror. I was fifteen and didn't have any friends. What was wrong with me? What had I done to deserve all of this? On top of that, there was this sudden guilt over a life I couldn't control. I wanted everything to be normal again.
I glared at the mirror deciding it was where this problem had occurred. I wanted the problem gone. I wanted the problem gone now.
I stared at the mirror harder as if I could really get rid of this problem, I did. It didn't matter how ridiculous that sounded. I kept pouring all my hatred into my stare. I just hoped and kept hoping.
The glass began to crack. I watched curiously as the crack slowly grew. It moved at a snails pace from the top of the mirror to all the way down. When the line finally reached the bottom a thousand more cracks appeared. The glass then fell, shattering into millions of tiny pieces.
"Oh… my… God... Stacey, Brb." She glared at me. "Freak! What the hell did you do to my mirror?" She looked at me as if she really thought it was my fault. Was it?
I was at least five feet away from it. Staring at it confused. If the source of the problem was gone then was the problem as well? No. But I did feel some sort of power. This power held confidence that I needed.
I turned to match her glare which of course surprised her. "Oh my God," I said trying my best to mimic the same over dramatic voice that she used on the phone. "An idiot would be able to tell that I'm standing in the doorway. But, you want to know what Sarah? You're completely right; I broke the mirror from all the way over here. Now am I the only one that thinks that sounds stupid or are you gaining some brain cells?"
Over the years there had been so many things she had said to me. I had always been afraid to respond. Afraid of what exactly? I don't know. I do know that I had been a fool to let fear take its hold on me.
She looked at me blankly. "Excuse me?" She was shocked that I had made an attempt at retaliation. I was shocked too, but the power I felt cancelled everything else out.
My glare became more intense. "Well maybe Princess, you could stop obsessing over yourself and pick up the glass from you're mirror." I paused briefly with a cruel smile. "That you most likely broke," I added. Turning away from her, I stomped up to my room and slammed my door shut.
Had I done that? Had I broken the mirror? That's impossible. I was so far away. I no longer feel completely by myself though. Like some kind of monster had made its way inside me and was now helping me cope with life. I like my new friend. I would like any friend as long as I wasn't alone.
For the past couple years I have always been alone, people for no reason seemed repelled by me. When I was walking down the school hallways there would be a bubble around me that people avoided. The older I got the bigger the bubble seemed to grow. People besides my family don't even talk to me. My family even forgot me on some occasions.
I was alone. I was no one. I was invisible.
If the monster stays then I don't think I'd care what it made me do.
Hi Everybody! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter (o.o) ]. If you are reading my other story Waking Bones (if you aren't you should) this takes place in the same world about a year earlier. Some of the characters from that book might be mentioned in this one and vice versa! So Yay exciting! Reviews make me happy and write more so review! :D
Special thanks to Karoukins (Duckling 3) for Beta'ing this. I love you~ hehe