July 31, 2015

CHAPTER 1

  Rita felt like a shadow; a simple mistake, a silhouette. She was never her own person; she was always the copy of another, someone stronger and braver than she. She was air, a breeze, a cloud. She was an empty space. She soon learned that empty spaces mean nothing to the world, and she knew that no one saw her at all.
  She was completely and utterly invisible.
  She knew that was the only explanation. There was no other way someone could be there and not be seen. But there was still the question of what if she wasn’t really there? What if she was simply a ghost, nothing more? What if she didn’t even exist in this world, but another? What if she just simply didn’t exist at all?
  Certain things made her believe this, and sometimes she set out to prove it wrong, and sometimes she just slouched and watched it happen, unable to do anything, hopeless.
  She felt like a used plastic bag, useless and thin; a hole in the bottom making it impossible for anyone to hold anything within. She was a ring of plastic, and nobody has a use for that.
  And then the inventor came.
  He saw her for not what she was, but who she could be. He saw her as a chance, an opportunity. At first he didn’t tell her that, in fact, at first he just looked at her, as if detecting angles and background, foreground and colors, light and beauty. He looked at her at first, and then he looked through her, Rita staring all the while. She was used to people looking at her, but they didn’t see her. They looked away, maybe at a bug on the window she was standing in front of. Or the nice Maserati in the parking lot behind her. But right when the inventor looked at her, she knew that he saw her, that he was looking straight into her eyes. All Rita could do was whisper faintly, “Hello.”
  The inventor smiled and placed his long fingers on his chin and mumbled something under his breath. He walked to her and around her. Rita was the Sun and he was the Earth, and for once, she knew what it truly felt like to be seen.
  The inventor kept watching her. Then he said quietly, “Ah, yes. She will do. And no, Pastel, this is not going to fail like the last girl. Yes, yes. I am sure. But of course, you can clarify with Bo…yeah, he would understand… yes, go, and get rid of him.”
  Rita wondered if the inventor was crazy. Who was he talking too? What happened to the last girl? What would happen to her?
  Rita pondered for a while, until finally, she brought up the courage to say, “Excuse me,” Her voice felt small in pathetic, as she was in space. “Can you see me?” 
  The inventor looked at her. He looked bewildered, as if it was the most obvious question in the world. “Why, what kind of question is that? Why, yes, you’re as clear as day and night!”
  Rita nodded slowly. “Well, yes, but I am not… not as clear… you… you don’t get it do you? Are you invisible too? Am I a real person now? Could it be? I…”
  The inventor held up his hand, and Rita saw, for just a spilt second, that in his eye was a face. One that looked trapped and sullen, like it wished it wasn’t stuck in the merry reflection of the inventor. Rita shook her head, and the face was gone.
  “You are invisible, and I am blind. What difference does it make? We see each other as we really are. You are seen, my dear, you are truly seen.”
  Rita looked at him, her mouth hanging open. No one had ever seen her, much less a blind man. How was she seen?
  The inventor pulled out a pen from his pocket. He pushed the top and it extended, revealing to really be a cane with a white tip, kind of like an over-sized magic wand. He swiped the cane from side to side. “Well, I must be on my way now, you see, I am actually a rather busy man, considering I can't see much.” He chuckled to himself and stepped forward until he was right in front of Rita, who, had decided, that the inventor was quite the interesting man. 
  He pulled out another item from his pocket. His hands were worn and calloused. He suddenly grabbed Rita’s hand and placed a card in her palm, closing her long fingers around it. Rita stared at his face, and realized that the inventor was actually not as old as he appeared. His eyes held happiness and… excitement.
  Suddenly Rita saw the face, the same as before, flicker and fade. She jumped and the inventor looked at her in surprise and then rage. “What did you see?” His face was suddenly mad. “What did you see? Tell me! IS HE STILL IN THERE?” The inventor backed away and stumbled to the floor. He picked himself up slowly and stood. He walked to the door, mumbling to himself, “Pastel, we must get rid of him! You must know… he is feeding… no, Bo was let out of the yard yesterday. He ran… so fast…” The inventor was gone.
  Rita stood so quietly, so still, for what seemed like forever. The forgotten card began to dampen from the sweaty center of Rita’s palm. She finally looked down and gasped.
Come to my office. I hope you trust me now,
And that Pascal didn’t get the best of you.
If you know what’s good for you, I would
Suggest coming straight away. Memorize the
Following address, and then throw this card away.
It’s for your safety and mine.

  Rita took the card and read the address. She blinked at it, and then threw the card away. There was no Invisibles Avenue in the city. She had walked up and down the street unseen for her whole life, and had never seen the destined street-sign. 

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