Just so you know, everything you're about to read is based solely on my opinion mixed—big in part, might I add—with my imagination. Let me restate that: this is my opinion and my imagination. Don't get offended and don't whine to me even if you do. Thank you.

Eeyore
by Mirror's Image

"Have you ever felt invisible? Absolutely invisible. Invisible to the point of non-existence, you could say. You probably haven't been invisible; though, I'm sure you've felt that way. Feeling invisible is a big part of a person's life. For example, high school was absolutely hell for some people—for those who felt invisible. When one feels as if they don't exist, as if no one else in the world can see them, it can lead to one's downfall."

Everything was ready. Everything was set. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing at all. She had locked the doors, the windows—she'd even locked the attic door. The lights in the house were off, making it seem as if not a soul was inside. But she was there, ready. The only light in the house was the one in her bathroom. The tub was running, filling with hot, bubbling water from the suds she had poured in earlier; the knife was set on the rim of the tub, its blade flashing tauntingly from the light of the bathroom. Everything was ready. Everything was set.

"Some would ask, How could anyone feel invisible if they're surrounded by people everyday? Good question. Invisibility inhabits a person's mind, and the mind is in control of the body. If your brain tells your arm to move, it moves. If it tells your foot to wiggle its toe, your toe wiggles. It's just the same as if your mind tells you that no one can see you, cares for you or wants you around, you feel as if no one sees you, cares for you or wants you around. You start feeling alone, discarded, rejected—invisible."

She hadn't bothered to write any notes, call any numbers, leave any signs. There wasn't going to be anyone trying to stop her—last time, she'd been so close to walking away from everything. Last time, she'd been stopped. There wouldn't be any 'last time,' now. This was final. It was her decision, and no one was going to stop her from doing what she wanted, craved, longed for. The water was nice and hot and ready. It was sudsy and slick, just like her body would be when she slid into the tub. Just like her wrist would be when she slid the knife across...

"But invisibility isn't all in the mind. Some people are made to feel invisible—are born into the world with a beautiful destiny, but torn away from the path by others around them. A good example would be an abused child. The child is abused all of its life and begins to grow with the idea that not one person can see its pain. Speaking out against the abuse is, to this child, a matter of life or death. Therefore, the child grows to be invisible, quiet—a time bomb that is ticking, just waiting to go off at any moment. Invisibility can, obviously, be physical."

It felt good. The water molded itself to her body, pooled between her breasts, made her feel clean and warm and comfortable. Her eyes closed themselves for the slightest moment, her head titled back, her body slid lower into the water and lower still until it rose around her neck. But she hadn't climbed in the tub to feel comfortable.

The knife shined in the light of the bathroom, just waiting to be picked up, caressed, used. Her eyes opened and she looked at the object with the smallest inkling of fear, but ignored the feeling and reached for the weapon. The water trickled down her arm as she lifted her wrist and pressed the blade against her flesh. She'd sharpened it expertly just for this night. Her breathing quickened. Everything was set.

"So right about now you're probably feeling sorry for those who feel invisible. Well, lighten up. Invisibility can, and often does, leave someone's life for good. The cause of this leaving is often the invisible person finding their identity. An identity is the key to a person's life. One can choose their own identity. It's sort of like a game—a fighting game, for a better example. You look through numerous characters before you find the perfect character for you, then choose the character that you want to be. However, it's not that simple for a person. Who you want to be is often formed by those you see around you. Television is also a big influencer, though not one of the best. But when you find your identity, you've found yourself. And when you've found yourself, the invisibility begins to flee."

This is it, she told herself. This is it. This is everything you've waited for. This moment is your last; the time to act is now. Her hand trembled slightly, her wrist shook. She swallowed a thick lump, swallowed another and breathed deeply as sweat began to form on her forehead from the humidity of the bathroom and her own fear. Her body suddenly felt hot, itchy, sticky, uncomfortable. The calm she'd had when she'd first climbed into the tub had begun to desert her. The strength to end it all was gone. The moment was lost.

"When a person begins to have an identity, they're like a newborn baby. They have to figure out things for themselves—have to figure out how to walk, talk, act. After all, this is who they are and who they want to be. You can't act like an idiot if you want to be Mr. Cool, right? Well, some of you can. But my point is that when you're beginning to walk in your new identity, you haven't got a lot of time to be invisible, thus getting rid of said invisibility. There are, however, those who have an identity and still feel invisible. This is often invisibility of the mind, but it can also be physical invisibility—you remember the difference, right? This type of person roams through life feeling insecure, unwanted, as if there is no hope for them. It's not uncommon to try suicide if you're invisible."

No. No! This wasn't how it was going to end! She wasn't going to climb out of the tub only to end her night in tears, like last time. There wasn't going to be any last time—she'd made a vow! Her eyes squeezed themselves shut so tightly that her head began to hurt. The knife was pressed harder against her wrist. All she had to do was make a clean, quick slice. It wouldn't hurt because she'd sharpened the blade so well. All she had to do was slit once.

A noise?

No. No distractions. She was going to slit! Never again would she wander around without anything to live for! Why should she be the one without a future? Why should she be the one without any hope? Not anymore. It was all going to end. No more pain, no more suffering. No more expectant mothers and disappointed fathers. No more blind friends and teachers. No more anything.

Her head throbbed. Her heart pounded. Her mouth opened and let out a choked sob.

She slit.

"But there's always hope for an invisible person."
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