You may call me a Drama Queen for saying this right out of the gate, but I'm pretty sure I'm invisible.
Maybe not literally. People see me enough that I wouldn't walk around naked and I still care about my appearance. It isn't as if I'm actively trying to disappear either.
Yet that's how things seem to be. No one ever talks to me. People don't even seem to look at me. I get bumped into all of the time, but no one ever apologizes. I don't think that I'm literally invisible. Maybe it's better to describe it as being 'socially invisible.'
I don't even remember when it got like this. Did I wake up one day and suddenly the entire world had banded together to ignore me? Or was it a more gradual thing, where people caught on one by one. I've never had best friends or a social circle anyway, so I don't think I lost anything.
Maybe that's why I decided to accept it.
It gets tiring to try to resist social invisibility. I can only have doors literally slammed in my face so many times, before it starts to hurt. I'm sure people who get lots of attention get exhausted too, but getting no attention is its own kind of tiring. I just don't have the energy to try anymore.
So I' gave up.
Or at least… I had given up. Until one weird Monday morning. I started that day as a lonely mess, and it ended with me finding a best friend. And with me being imprisoned, apparently? And I guess now I'm a potential meal for some monsters? Lots of stuff went down that Monday.
It's a long story. Let me explain.
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Normally, I'm a decent student. I am in my assigned seat before the school bell rings, with my books and homework ready to go. Teachers may never call on me in class, but I'm always ready for the possibility.
Except for that one Monday morning.
That Monday was different from my norm in many ways, but it definitely started in first period. When I got to class I took my seat and settled into my usual morning routine: Being ignored. My classmates talked loudly amongst themselves, sometimes bumping into my desk or stepping on my feet. Never acknowledging me personally, but making me painfully aware of my existence.
Which wasn't out of the ordinary for me. I didn't even notice that anything was different until I opened my bag to set up my desk. I wanted to have my textbook, my pencil, and maybe my half-finished homework on my desk before the bell rang.
But my bag was empty. No textbooks. No homework. Not even a pencil.
It was completely empty.
I may have weird social invisibility, but like I said: I am always prepared. Having my books and homework ready is a point of pride for me. I'm sure I've forgotten paper and pencils in the past, but whole textbooks? That was a new low for me.
At first, I tried to recheck every pocket on the bag for at least a pencil. I shook it upside-down on my desk, but not even a dust bunny came out. When I accepted defeat, I found myself glancing around the classroom for help. I thought that I might at least be able to borrow a pencil and sheet of paper from someone.
But I knew to give up on that hope. After all, no one ever noticed me on a good day. Why would they suddenly acknowledge me on a bad day? It was better not to ask for help at all.
I sighed and dropped my empty green messenger bag to the floor. Defeated. So imagine my surprise when, out of no where, I felt someone tap my shoulder.
Well, almost out of no where. I whipped my head around fast enough that it hurt and saw someone reaching out to me. It was the blond boy who sat next to me in class. He was completely ignoring my social invisibility by touching me. Weirder still was hearing his voice and realizing it was directed at me.
"Ophelia?" I remember him asking, "Is something wrong?"
In that moment, through that simple question, the events that would end my life were put into motion.