Alone and Invisible

Alone and Invisible by Ariel Clark

Eliza Baker was alone. She lay curled in a ball on the floor of her room, which was bare except for a bed and window. She had golden blond hair that fanned out in waves around her on the floor. Her eyes were red from crying, and tears had dried in tracks down her face.
Eliza had been alone all her life, so she was used to crying everyday out of loneliness. She wanted nothing more than a companion, someone to talk to. No one cared about Eliza Baker, though. She was just another ordinary face in a crowd. It didn’t matter that her hair and clothes were fashionable, or that she tried to make friends. No one responded.
She dabbed at her eyes as another tear trickled from her eye. Why didn’t they like her? She had spoken with people who had the same interests as she, she had worn all the clothes, and she had been nice to everyone. So why? Why?
Eliza sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She didn’t know why. She could walk right up to someone, and they would ignore her. It was like she wasn’t there. It was like she was invisible.
Eliza almost laughed. Invisible, yeah, that was the word for it. She was invisible. Not even her parents reacted when she was around. Eliza rubbed her temples. That her parents didn’t even respond to her was saying just how bad things were. Just how well and truly alone she was.
Alone, that was another good word for her. That word had been there from the beginning. If it weren’t for the fact that she could cook she’d have starved long ago, since her parents didn’t cook for her.
Eliza shook her head. No, now that she thought about it, alone wasn’t a strong enough word. She was far worse off than that. It was like ‘the world is over and I’m the last person alive’ alone.
She sighed, and rolled up her sleeve. There were cuts along her arm and wrist. Lately she had started doing anything for attention. Hitting herself, breaking things, spilling things in the cafeteria. She had finally resorted to cutting herself. It hadn’t been working so far. There were scabbed red lines all along her arm.
Eliza reached her pocket and pulled out a razor blade. Maybe this time, maybe. If she let out enough blood, perhaps someone would notice. She held it up to her wrist, and pressed before drawing it across the skin.
This cut was deeper than anything she’d ever done before, and she cut the vein. Blood welled from her wrist in a fountain, and Eliza stared at it. It hurt, but she was too far gone to notice. All she could think was, yes, maybe this will be enough. Maybe this will finally get their attention.
Eliza let out too much blood, watching it fall in scarlet rivulets down her forearm. She didn’t try to stop it, just let it happen.
Eliza died that night of blood loss.
No one came to her funeral but the preacher, so even in death she was alone and invisible. But, maybe in heaven she wouldn’t be anymore. Maybe in heaven she wouldn’t be alone and invisible.