The sunlight shines through the facilties' windows brilliantly with its whitish yellow glow. It illuminates all the various floor tiles and wall posters. It rises and falls in a push and pull fashion; scanning and shedding its glow upon all the greatest features of its guests and their groups. Well...actually, not all of its guests. Not for Andy. For no matter how great the sun glowed upon him.....still nobody saw him. All 6 feet, sad blue eyes, dark blonde hairs, draped in nerdy clothing of him…..never seen.
When people did look his way, it was only because they saw what they needed through him, but never in him. As he looked upon the groups of happy people pass him by without any sort of existential acknowledgment, Andy began to yet again ponder a question he'd tortured himself with infinitely since the age of 13: "why can't they see me for me? Why can't I exist to them, and with them, on my own terms? Just as I am willing to do for them?".
Again and again he asked himself this until the thought of it made his head throb in pain. "No...no...we can't have that. I have yet another day of solitude, and pain will only lengthen it", he said as he rubbed his finger across his temple. Andy then continued walking in the facility. He let the groups pass him by like the wind blowing through his hair ; swift, silent, and barely noticeable. Disregarding them like this was the best way he could easily let go of their ignorance to his presence. Was it right? No. Was it fair? Yes. And that's all that mattered.
All that mattered until one day….she SAW him.
She was beautiful. The darkest of dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was slim, but still plush. Her eyes were a blossom blue, and her lips curved, yet stern. It was clear that she'd been through pain, but she still embraced it. Andy admired that. Andy also admired that she noticed him and was now walking directly….directly to...to HIM?! He felt a slight bead of sweat drip down his vastly clear face. Something that hadn't happened in quite a long time.
But despite his disposition, she did not halt her pursuit of his position. She walked elegantly, and with attitude. As though she may or may not have been attempting to draw attention to her form-fitting, but also artistic gothic-geek hybrid style of attire. Her hips swayed ever so slightly and her urban-style sneakers creaked in anticipation as she walked closer and closer to me.
All these things I noticed. I was letting her in against my best and most proven prior judgments. However, in rare cases, I suppose a hypthosis can be revisited.
“Hey stranger….are you new here too?”.
Dam, she was bold. Just up and asking me something so….so….well so straight to the point. Then again, at this point, wouldn't being asked any type of question be seen as direct?
She giggled a little as I strayed in and out of thought. Her foot tapped away the time slowly in eagerness, waiting for my answer. However….soon a minute became several, and she began to raise an eyebrow and start to look around. I was finally seen and was about to lose my first and possibly only chance. I had to make some sort of sound. I had to...reply.
She looked down and laughed. “Yeah...what about them? Did I step in something? Are they damaged? Are they slutty? Go ahead, mr.statue of liberty, you can tell me; I dont bite!”
“Th-th-they're, uh, ni-ni-ni-nice. I u-u-used to ha-have a pair like that. Until m-my feet got too big. Then I h-had to switch to other brands”.
“Oh...well...thanks I guess” she said blushing. “Alot of girls and guys say they look slutty and beat up; but I don't care and l like the style! It's like nobody around gets what it means to be-”
“TO b—b-be creative?”, I blurted out.
She smiled again with those curved, stern lips. “Yeah! Yeah...that's exactly right. Nobody knows what it's like to be creative. Or artistic. Or human for that matter.”
“Ye-yeah...s-some p-people get so fixed in their own thoughts and ways. I'm guilty of it as well. Th-though, n-not in the w-way you'd expect. F-for me it's mostly a way to cope”.
“I knew I saw something special in you, mr.silent swordsman. I don't just walk over and talk to ANYBODY you know! So….you got a name, or a title, or something I can call you by? You can call me tabby, short for tabitha. Or tabby cat, whatever floats your fish. And….you are?”
She rolled her eyes and giggled again at my loss for words. Why couldn't I be as well-spoken in my head in public? I used to be before they destroyed me…
“I get it pal, no worries! You sure like to use the word “well” a lot. And you've got a keen sense of creativity. How about I call you Wells? Like H.G. Wells!”
“Great! Nice to meet ya mr.wells! Oh and...one more thing!”
She reaches into her handbag and pulls out an inking marker and a portion of notebook paper. She then winks at me, and scribbles something quick on it.
Great...another practical joke. The one time I get seen and it's all been a pre-planned ploy.
She then finishes her writing, and is about to hand me the paper….but pulls her hand back a little. Almost as if in uncertainity.
“Hey...and one more thing….people are crap. Trust me, I know. But I promise, i'm not. I know what you're thinking. But...just do me, and yourself, a favor and try to drown that thought out, ok?”, She said sincerely.
“Ultimately, its up to you if you wanna see me again. But if you do, just use that little paper there. I'm pretty sure even someone as silent as you knows how to use a smartphone.”
“Th-thanks. I will”. I replied.
“And I….WILL see you again soon, right?” She winked.
“Yeah, yeah you'll seen me soon.” I said.
“You better mr.wells. Don't be a ghost! Keep in touch!” She said as she walked away.
That's how it all started. The day I was seen. Me. A human ghost of sorts.