by Trey Russell

Created on: October 06, 2008

She had no face. Please don't misunderstand, she had a face, and knew so, but sometimes she doubted. She could see, a pair of glasses ensured that. She could hear, touch and taste, her nose was no different from any other. Still, she was neither convinced nor particularly happy. One among many, that's all she was. Her parents were typical of such creatures: Old, busy, and hopelessly yet wonderfully enmeshed with society at large. She did her best to fit in, and in a way she did her work too well. No one noticed her. Her words, what few she spoke, fell on deaf ears. Random collisions with strangers in hallways did not devolve into shouting as in the movies and didn't even lead to an apology from the offending person. She believed it was always they who bumped her, and it was not arrogance that led her to such a conclusion: It was fear.

For weeks, ever since her lackluster birthday, she had noticed the change. The world seemed to just be slipping away. Her eyes saw everything, as always, yet the brightest of colors had much the same effect on her as dull grays. Birdsong, so sweet, had become... ordinary, then ignored through no desire of her own. The thrill of silk upon her skin was but a memory half-forgot, ice-cream on a hot summer day but a fond wish. Scents, both wonderful and terrible had but little impact.

Every day, the world around her seemed to fade a bit more. Every day, she seemed to fade a bit more from the world. The last time a teacher had called upon her in class had been weeks ago, and had not seemed to know her name. She knew what it sounded like, how could she not. She was neither stupid nor uninformed, though admittedly her ambition and resolve had begun to wane. She was the "Invisible Girl". Not a superhero, mind you, but something from farther back, some darker portion of the imagination. She was the girl who wished so badly to disappear that eventually she just faded away - forever. Unfortunately, in some ways, at least, the story didn't fit. She didn't want to become invisible, surely not. Many months back she remembered being quite the opposite of an introverted teenage girl. This change certainly didn't feel like it was any of her work. It didn't feel like a sudden depression brought on by loss, or a need in the subconscious to stay unnoticed. Instead it felt like something sinister was sapping her strength, sucking from her like some medieval vampire her will, her heart and soul.

Her pencil dropped to the ground and she lifted herself from

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