The Boy

In all of his years living, never was it hard for him to brush past the feeling of isolation. The feeling of transparency in everyone's life, desperate for everyone, anyone to see him. In a series of unfortunate events, that feeling was unbearable, unfathomable, and a little unfortunate. The boy screamed, yelled, and bellowed but no one listened, no batter an eye, not even a single soul glanced. Nothing.

Once lived a boy, vividly visible and effortlessly seen, as if his very essence had been painted onto the canvas of life. He blossomed within the confines of a wholesome household, brimming with love, care, attention, and affection as if it were an enchanting garden bursting with vibrant hues. Despite being the second youngest among his six siblings, this young lad exuded a maturity beyond his years nurtured by parents whose boundless adoration knew no bounds, no limits, knew no borders of which can be for the better or for the unsuitable. Whispers of admiration followed him, often praising his ability to illuminate even the darkest corners with his brilliant and sunny disposition, though, in less flattering moments, tongues wagged about his occasional propensity for mischief, playfully teasing that his humor and sharp tongue might lack the desired punch.

His parents often say that he likes to run around fields of hyacinths, his favorite flower, a mesmerizing floral marvel, that bursts forth with a tapestry of vibrant petals in a kaleidoscope of purples, blues, pinks, and whites, its slender stalk and emerald leaves serve as a graceful pedestal, showcasing nature's delicate masterpiece. In those fleeting moments, he would dance with unrestrained abandon, twirling until the heavens themselves blazed with radiant flames of yellow and orange. With bright big almond eyes and a set of cheeky smiles, he forged connections, amassing a treasury of friendships and colleagues akin to plucking the ripest apples from the abundant trees of an apple orchard. Thus, his life bloomed with grace and charm, guided by the vibrant strokes of his own vivid existence, painting a kaleidoscope of experiences that embraced both light and shadow, creating a tapestry of connections that enriched his days.

"I'll always be by your side." The boy would often say to reassure his friends, as some of them had descended into a spiral of unfortunate circumstances brought by life and its tribulations.

His happiness radiated like a sunlit meadow, its golden rays casting a warm glow upon his every step. It was a joy that transcended distance, visible even from the farthest horizons as if his very essence were woven into the fabric of the universe. In his heart, he held a kaleidoscope of friendships, ever so dear to him, each connection a vibrant bloom in the garden of his soul, their bonds woven with threads of shared laughter, unspoken understanding, and a symphony of cherished moments that painted the canvas of his existence in vivid hues and bright textures. And in return, their love for him blossomed with a brilliance that rivaled the most resplendent flowers, an ever-blooming garden of affection and camaraderie. Or so he thought.

As the days ran and went, weeks leaped and left, and years flew to a brand anew, the boy remained as is, surrounded by his friends whom he loved and who loved him.

"Nursery was a breeze, I met new people and befriended them." He recounted.

"Elementary was a walk in the park, nothing out of the ordinary." He grinned.

"Junior year was quite interesting, but I didn't mind it." He commented.

The boy's lips curved upward, forming a wistful smile, as he stood on the shores of his mind, where the tides of bygone days ebbed and flowed, remembering every memory he shared, every memory he cared, and every memory with emotions nothing could be compared. The gentle whispers of the distant past echo through the chambers of his consciousness. Each memory, like an ethereal treasure, shimmered within him, intricately woven with emotions that defied comparison. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, carrying him back in time, as he surrendered to the embrace of recollection of the days gone by. It was a sense of nostalgia the boy had felt. He closed his eyes and relive every single one of them, every single one he could remember at least. They unfurled before him like a vibrant tapestry, woven with the threads of laughter, smiles, and tears that had intertwined with his friends. Every emotion, like a vibrant hue, painted the canvas of his existence, immortalizing the bonds they had forged. From the echoes of joyous laughter to the symphony of shared sorrow, every experience had left an indelible mark, etching itself into the tapestry of his being.

As he retraced the contours of those memories of different connections to the people he was with, the boy became aware of the weight they carried. It was as if the passage of time had gifted him with the wisdom of ages, his soul weathered the storms and basked in the warmth of camaraderie. The memories stood as a testament to the depth of his connections, a testament to the myriad experiences he had shared with his friends. In the tapestry of his mind, he discovered that he had traversed vast landscapes of life to the good and to the bad, leaving footprints in the sands of time, and now, amidst the richness of those recollections, he found himself pausing in silence. With eyes still closed, he was feeling the weight of years upon his shoulders, as if the boy had suddenly become an old soul recounting the tapestry of memories he had lovingly woven alongside his dear friends.

Maybe that was the reason why he always dies. With each closing chapter of his life, like brittle autumn leaves, the boy wilted and succumbed to a transient demise. In those moments of transition, as the chapters concluded, he would behold the disheartening sight of his vibrant spirit dimming, the radiance fading, especially when he believed that the finale drew near. He met his demise in the nursery, only to be reborn amidst the blossoming petals of elementary. Once more, he faced death's cold grip as the curtains fell on elementary, only to find himself rejuvenated and revived at the dawn of his junior year. Time and again, when the specter of separation loomed, he would die.

Each transformation became a poignant dance with mortality, a symphony of beginnings and ends that etched a bittersweet melody in the depths of his soul. With every passing phase, he would taste the bittersweetness of parting, his heart echoing with the haunting refrain of temporary farewells. Yet, in the face of these miniature deaths, the boy would gather the fragments of his being, mending the tattered threads of connection, for he knew that even in the depths of despair, the promise of reunion lingered, like a ray of hope peering through the darkest clouds.

And so, the boy would traverse the labyrinth of existence, knowing that within the cyclical nature of life, death, and rebirth, lay the tapestry of his growth and resilience. Like a perennial flower, he embraced the delicate dance of transformation, cherishing each season of growth and mourning the loss of the familiar, only to discover that every closing chapter birthed new beginnings. It was in this perpetual cycle of demise and rebirth that he found the beauty of evolution, the symphony of life's infinite metamorphoses, and the resilience to rise from the ashes once more, his spirit aflame with the unyielding desire to reunite with his cherished friends.

But what about senior year?

The boy slowly turned around, and his fair skin went fairer. His eyes widened into disbelief but it expressed a hint of amazement underneath.

"You weren't supposed to talk."

"You're a reader, you weren't supposed to talk."

The boy took his left arm and raised it, waving it around like a dancing bamboo. His eyes were now moist as hints of glistening tears started to form in his eyes.

"Can you see me?" The boy smiled, still waving his arm enthusiastically.

"Can you actually see me?" His voice cracked as he gulped a lump in his throat.

Senior year, although it signals the start of something new, it also signifies the end of a saga and the closing of a chapter. The death of the high school era, the boy had started with his friends passionately.

It started with a quick hello, then life began to sprint without hesitation. The boy found himself thrust into an ocean of academic responsibilities, its surging waves colossal and formidable, its depths unfathomable. At times, the very essence of the ocean seemed to materialize, transforming into a grotesque sea monster that chuckled with sadistic glee, relishing in the boy's valiant struggle to rise above its daunting challenges. He swam and drowned, he swam up, breathed, and then swam again. He encountered countless setbacks but in pursuit of excellence propelled him forward.

Amidst the labyrinth of challenges, where each step felt like traversing treacherous terrain, the boy discovered an anchor, a steadfast rock in the vast sea of unwavering uncertainty that embraced him with unwavering stability. He often would swim towards this rock, greeted it hello, and trusted it with everything he had. This rock became his refuge, a sanctuary of trust and solace. It started with the recognition of intellect, where shared knowledge and insights cascaded like rivulets of wisdom, intertwining their minds in a symphony of thought. Then, like a gentle tide, it extended to his emotions, the currents of vulnerability and understanding swelling and mingling with the ebb and flow of their interactions. Finally, the boy surrendered the essence of his very self, each thread interwoven with care and affection. On this rock, the boy discovered a sanctuary of belonging, where laughter danced like sunlight on the water's surface and tears fell like gentle rain, mingling with the vast ocean of shared experiences. Within the embrace of this rock, friendships flourished each one a unique gem, adorning the tapestry of his existence with vibrant hues of joy, support, and unwavering companionship.

This rock was the boy's friends, both old and new.

"The ocean may be rough but a single rock can save a soul, thankfully I have a big one, a collection of many turned into one." The boy had said as he hugged dearly the rock he loved, he didn't mind the howling wind nor the angry waves of the ocean. With his friends, life could throw a meteor and he would still be invincible, left unharmed.

They would share everything with each other, the boy and his friends. They would laugh when one of them tells a corny joke, they would cheer together when they found out their class won something at a school event, and they would cry together when they found out that some of them failed at something academically important. The boy and his friends had witnessed it all and had felt it all. The boy was happy and content as is, with his friends, he felt seen, and with his friends, he felt at home.

Imagine the boy's surprise as the very fabric of his reality turned inside out. With a snap of a finger, everything that was once there had suddenly changed and became different from before.

The boy had guessed that maybe the waves of the ocean had eroded his one rock and it split into many. His friends suddenly started to drift apart from one another, creating factions that turned what was once a whole into many.

He accepted the new reality, acknowledging that even the most splendid and flawless manifestations eventually succumb to the inexorable forces of fragmentation and decay. Nonetheless, he still loved his friends and continued to be a part of as many factions as he can, he treated every section the same as best as he could and gave his time to factions as best as he could. Yet, his efforts were like sifting through a river of rocks, each one a precious fragment waiting to be discovered. With each sift, he grappled with the weight of their diversity, a tapestry of complexities demanding his undivided attention. The balancing act proved unreliable, like a tightrope walk amidst the swirling currents of demands and desires. The boy had promise to be with everyone for the same amount of time but he often spends too much time in one group while disregarding the other group. Maybe he couldn't love everyone and everything all at once, maybe the boy was naive and unfair.

Try as he might but the boy could not do it all, the boy found himself entangled in a web of impossibilities. He couldn't savor lunch with Group A, relishing in the delightful banter and laughter, while simultaneously unraveling the secrets of crushes and whispered confessions with Group B, all while nurturing the playful camaraderie of Group C, tending to the heartfelt concerns of Group D, and lending an empathetic ear to the melodies of longing that resonated within Group E.

The boy could not be in one definite place and the factions started to notice it and deemed him unstable and thus unacceptable. Slowly but surely, they started to move on with their lives in their own respective factions while the boy struggles to love everyone like a mad king desperately collecting gold as his kingdom fell, disregarding himself in the process.

What was once loved turned into something the boy could not take in. He started to notice that he felt left out in conversations, hangouts, and in planned social events. He plastered a bright smile nonetheless.

"Maybe they'd forgotten, maybe this is just a fluke. They'll remember me, they'll see me."

But still, it remained the same. The situation remained stagnant.

One day, as the boy was using the comfort room, he took a glance at himself. He looked at his eyes, then he fixed his hair, eventually his eyes fixed on himself and noticed something peculiar but he couldn't seem to pinpoint exactly what was wrong. His orbs darted around looking at what was odd and unnatural but he gave up and returned to his class.

"Hey, how are you?" He greeted a friend passing by, usually that friend would greet him back but this time she walked past him.

The boy shrugged it off thinking that maybe his friend was just busy. He noticed another friend walking towards him, he smiled and greeted the girl in white stockings.

"Hi! Want to sit together later during lunch?" He asked. Just like his friend from before, this other friend walked past by and never noticed him.

He entered their classroom and sat down, slightly confused as to why his friends won't greet him back. As the class continued, the boy fidgeted his fingers when he noticed something.

He looked down and was surprised to see his fair skin slowly turning transparent, almost see-through. The boy panicked and yelled but his screams turned mute, so he got up and walked around calling for help but people started to walk past him.

His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he cast his gaze downwards, witnessing the astonishing transformation of his once vibrant fair skin into a delicate translucence, like a fragile parchment allowing glimpses of the world beneath. Panic surged through his veins, the boy yelled but his screams turned mute, a haunting silence that veiled his desperate cries. Determined, he rose from his stationary stance, his footsteps carrying him in a frantic ballet of urgency, he walked around calling for help but people started to walk past him. their figures blurred like fleeting apparitions, their gazes slipping past him as if he had become a specter.

The invincible had become invisible.

He screamed, he ran, he yelled, he jumped. Nothing. His friends didn't even bat an eye, not once noticed him, not once turned around to look at him. He ceases to exist.

"Can you actually see me?" Tears rolled down his cheeks, and the boy's voice cracked as he gulped a lump in his throat.

"Am I not invisible anymore? Can you see me? Can you finally see me?"

He cried. His smile was haunting but it was with hope, finally after what seemed like a century, someone had seen him.

Where did you go? When I was reading you suddenly disappeared

The boy blinked rapidly as if confused at what he had just heard.

"I was here. I was just right here."

The boy sniffed.

"I was screaming, I was crying, I was running and jumping, I was right here and none of you could see me."

"Why couldn't you see me?"

It's okay, it's okay. We see you.

"No, it's not okay. I waved. I said hi and hello. None of you looked at me."

The boy fell on his feet and slumped. He looked down and his tears fell on the floor.

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.

"I was right here. I didn't go anywhere."

The boy wept.

"I was right here the whole time."

The boy sobbed.

The boy started to become invisible once more. He looked up, sniffed, and said one last time before he disappeared.

"None of you could see me. Nobody could see me."