The Girl Who Isn't Here and The Boy Who Is

Alyssan

I should have known something was up. I'd managed to day dream today, something that hasn't happened to me since I'd awoken in my backyard three months ago. Of course, I wish I could day dream or sleep or do something other than be present in my mind every single day. I wouldn't mind it if it weren't for the sole fact that no one can see, hear, or feel me.

I used to always enjoy when people would just leave me to my own devices. That's how I liked things. That's how I wished things could always be.

I guess I wished for it a little too hard.

Going without any human interaction for the past three months has been a hell I could never have imagined. I never thought that so much solidarity could twist a person so badly. When I finally realized that I'm dead, I actually did come to the conclusion that I'm in hell.

My parents can't see me.

My friends can't hear me.

No one can feel me.

At first, I didn't know what to make of it. I thought I was simply dreaming and that I'd wake up to an annoying alarm any second, that it was all a nightmare. The nightmare never ended, though. My alarm never went off and before I knew it, I found myself trapped.

From what I hear, floating around and eavesdropping, people seem to think I've run away from home. I don't remember doing any such thing. Then again, I don't remember dying either. For all I know, the police and reporters could be right. Maybe I ran away and committed suicide, though I don't remember ever being depressed before my death. Other people don't think I was depressed either, from what I hear.

Some people think I went off and eloped with some guy. I've also heard the same version, but with a girl instead. Classmates whisper that I was pregnant and ran away in shame. Some people think that I'm the killer who appeared three months prior to my disappearance, saying I ran off in fear of being caught.

Well I say...nothing because they can't hear my opinion anyway.

Around town, my parents have put up missing posters with a picture capturing one of my rare smiles. There are details of what I was wearing the day I went missing, what I'm still currently wearing now. There's also a description of my features such as my auburn hair and brown eyes. My height and weight is on the paper as well.

From what I've witnessed over the past few months, the posters have done no good in finding me or, rather, my body. I've watched my parents slowly lose hope with everyday that carried on. The light in their eyes growing dimmer and dimmer. I watched as they lost weight, as their complexions became poor, and as their cheeks seemed to sink in, making them appear older than what they really are. It got to the point where I couldn't stand to be around to watch them anymore.

That was a week ago. I haven't seen them since. I've no idea how they're doing, though I doubt it's much better than how I left them. I try not to think about it, but when thinking is the only thing one can do all day long, it becomes quite a feat.

Today, though, I had found myself actually day dreaming. I had never been able to day dream up to this point. Just like sleeping, it was something that I was just unable to do, which made the days go by much, much slower.

Something happened and once I'd gotten to the school, I'd found my spot under a tree in the front lawn. It was a place I had often frequented when I was still alive. Before I could even realize what was happening I found myself thinking about what would have happened if I'd never died. What I'd be doing right that instant and what I'd have planned for the rest of the day.

It isn't until I feel their eyes and hear them speak, that I'm yanked from the happy escape with full force.

My head whips up at a break neck pace and my eyes clash with a deep set amber brown pair. My heart soars and my stomach sinks. Someone is looking straight at me and judging by their reaction, this isn't some hallucination or sick joke.

The panic in their eyes is easily spotted, but I barely pay that any mind as I rush to the front entrance of the school and up the stairs. There aren't any students in the hall and even if there were, I'd be running through them.

As soon as I get to the classroom I rush through the open door, my eyes scanning the room for the person who'd seen me. They're not there. Their desk chair is still toppled over, though, and I can hear people murmuring to themselves about what they think just happened. I catch the tail end of a sentence and a name that has me hurrying back out of the room and down the empty hallway once more.

I get to the nurses office just as someone walks through the doorway and into the room. If I still had a heart, I know it'd be beating off the charts right about now. I'm pretty sure I'd probably be sweating right about now, too.

I grab the door frame as I skid to a halt and stick my head in through the open door way looking all around the room. The nurse, a kind and round old woman sitting in her black desk chair, speaks with a guy who has his back to me. Her eyes skim right over me, no surprise there, before focusing back on the man.

I step into the office, slowly and cautious at first because I'm not quite sure what to expect.

Did he really see me? What if I just imagined it or what if he was surprised by something behind me.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the negative thinking. Sure, it might not be good to get my hopes up, but I'm almost positive he'd made eye contact with me.

My feet carry me deeper into the nurses office and I walk around the young man speaking with the nurse. They don't bat an eye at my appearance, their focus staying squarely on the woman. I flip my hair over my shoulder as I walk over to the beds behind the thin curtains. Only one is pulled shut. I notice there's still a narrow opening between the curtain and the wall and I use that as my way in.

My eyes land on the body curled up under the thin white cover. Their back is to me, making it impossible to see their face. I walk around the bed slowly and watch as their face becomes more and more visible. Their eyes are closed and their breathing is even, telling me that they're sleeping peacefully.

"Hmm." I hum appreciatively as I get a better look at his face. "So it's you." Once I'm close enough I crouch down for a better look. I vaguely recognize him as a fellow classmate from my junior year.

I reach out a pale hand, fully aware that I won't be able to touch him, but becoming very surprised when I make contact with his heated cheek. I quickly pull my hand away, startled.

"What?" I mutter under my breath as I look between my hand and the man lying before me. My fingers twitch with the need to touch his heated skin again so I give into my craving.

At first, I just let them brush against his skin, light as a feather. Then, I let the pads of my fingers press into his skin before, eventually, letting my whole palm rest on his cheek. I breathe out a sigh of relief at how warm he is.

"I never realized how cold I really am." The man before me shudders and then releases a sigh of his own. His eyes squeeze shut tighter as if he's in pain before they flutter open. He blinks once, twice, and three times before those beautiful amber colors focus on mine, only confirming my suspicion.

He can see me.

As my excitement grows so does his fear and before I can do anything, he bolts backward from my hand and person. The bed wasn't big to begin with and with him already taking up most of it there isn't anywhere for him to go, but to the floor.

There's a loud crash as he lands on the floor and a second later the curtain is pulled back, bright light leaking into the room. I stand up and look over the bed and at the man lying on the floor, entangled in the blanket that he was comfortably lying under only moments ago.

"Mr. Garrison! What's the matter?!" The nurse asked, clearly surprised and startled by his sudden reaction.

Those amber eyes flicker between myself and the nurse over and over again, filling with confusion and even more fear.

"Y-you don't see her? She's right there!" The nurses brows knit together in confusion and worry.

"See who? Mr. Garrison, you and I are the only ones here right now." He continues to look between us and I can't stop the smile that twitches onto my lips as I watch him struggle to comprehend what's going on. His eyes focus on me as I move my hand, bringing my index finger to rest against my lips.

"Quite now, Mr. Garrison. We wouldn't want people to misunderstand." His eyes roll back into his head and he passes out.

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