I lay flat, waiting for others to notice me.
Growing up, my fluffy pillows were the only thing constant by my side. I always felt invisible.
I would rest my head in dreams of tomorrow. In those dreams I always saw my self alone.
Years before, I received an ironic premonition of the way my life would be. While walking with my older brother around a lake we started poking at the dead fish, floating on top.
Standing off to my brother’s side somehow I fell in. Unfortunately, he nor I could swim.
The flailing of my arms against water waves served me no purpose. I couldn’t grasp it at all. I couldn’t hold myself up enough to breath. I could only flutter about in panic.
No arms, no hands, it all seemed imaginary. One slip in a lake was all it took for me to see that my brother and I was in a room alone.
Noisy and clanking I waited for someone to slip me a reminder that I was more than water at the bottom of shoes. Someone to tell me I was more than a dumb little girl that clumsily slipped in the lake following her brother’s lead. Someone that wouldn’t laugh at me but make me feel that my presence mattered.
I survived that day without invitation. There was no lap in sight that could comfort the emptiness I felt. My brother’s quick thinking of picking up a stick and handing it to me got me out. I really didn’t think he could do it.
People were laughing, or so I felt. I was too embarrassed to rest my swollen eyes, so I stuffed it inside.
Hours later I rested my head in the back the bathtub and cried. Leaves floated on top of my bathwater like those dead fish.
I thought to myself, maybe being invisible isn’t so bad as I pulled my head underwater.