Invisible No More

The wooden park bench beneath me was as stiff and cold as ever in the early December air. I sat there, just observing the people still walking through the park, even though it was winter. They were all chattering happily, making me wonder why nobody ever spoke to me.

Nobody. It was simple. Ever since grade school started, when I was the shy girl nobody noticed. There it was again: nobody. The word constantly rang through my head, a source of misery. I was invisible to everyone, noticed by none.

My light brown hair fell in front of my face as I drew my knees in and hugged them. When I looked around, I found the first flakes of snow beginning to fall to the ground. Preschoolers ran around, trying to catch the flakes on their tongues, laughing the entire time. I longed to be as happy and carefree as they were.

Even though the air was chilled, I could feel a few tears making trails down my cheeks. I hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of my winter jacket, though I wasn’t concerned about anyone seeing my tears. I was concerned about feeling them myself. I was used to being the invisible girl, so why was I crying now? I was perplexed, but I didn’t think on it.

Someone sat on the bench next to me, right up close to my feet. I recognized him from school, one of the few boys, one of the few people, who had ever talked to me before. It had been ages, though. I hadn’t been this close to him since third grade, when we’d sat next to each other in class. That had been years ago - we were sophomores in high school now.

He turned to look at me, and I saw him smile. “Hi, it’s…Amanda, right?” he asked, and I knew he didn’t remember third grade like I did. I nodded.

“Amanda Rolins,” Besides what I said at home, which wasn’t really much, that had been the first time I’d strung two words together in a conversation in a month. I had a best friend, but she lived in Wisconsin, so we wrote letters to each other. I hadn’t spoken to her in two years.

“Mark Walters,” he returned, in the same fashion as how I’d said my name. “You know, I remember you from - from third grade, was it?” I nodded once again, a half-smile starting to tug at my lips.

“Tell me what it’s like,” I said, almost blurted out, as a fleeting thought ran through my head. Mark looked a bit confused.

“What what’s like?”

I frowned for a second, as if my request was more obvious than it really was. To me, it was obvious anyway. “Being seen. Being noticed. What’s it like?”

Mark shook his head at me, the smallest of smirks on his face. “Why do you need to ask? You are seen. I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

I copied him and shook my head, letting my forehead rest on my knees for a second before looking up again. “Just because you talk to me today…it doesn’t mean I’m not invisible to everyone else.”

I pushed a lock of my light brown hair behind my right ear as Mark answered. “But that doesn’t matter, Amanda. If you have one friend instead of a thousand, it doesn’t matter - as long as you’re happy. Popularity isn’t everything.”

For the first time in a while, I felt a true smile start to form on my face. “You’re right,” I said simply. There really wasn’t anything else to say.

“So how long has it been since you really smiled?” Mark asked curiously, and I shrugged as I thought of an answer. How long had it been? A month, a year? I didn’t know.

“Honestly, I don’t know. A long time.”

“Well, you’d better smile more often, Amanda. It suits you well.”

The smile tugged at my face, longing to stretch just a little wider. “I suppose I could smile more, it feels nice,” I replied quietly, almost meekly. “Now that I’m not invisible anymore, I think I can.”

Almost absentmindedly, Mark took one of my hands in his, and I noticed it grow warmer, even in the cold December air. It grew warm in his gentle grip, just like the rest of me had gradually grown warmer in a winter coat and through encouraging words. To be noticed made a person’s heart and soul warm, and it felt nice.