Athazagoraphobia

Contrary to the opinions of most people, I am not a bad person. At least, I don't really think that I am. See, my actions have deeper motives that no one seems to see, and it just so happens that whatever I do, none of my goals are reached. All I want is attention, and in desperation, I act out. I used to be a good person, I was happy enough. But then out of nowhere, at the worst times, fear would strike, leaving me breathless and terrified. And I fell into the pit of darkness and pure fear.

And here I am now, hiding within myself, trying to close in on myself. But I still hear them whisper about me. And yes, I might be a freak, but you have no idea what my life is like. You have no idea what it's like being forgotten.

All my life, I've been forgotten. I've lived in the shadow of my twin brother, leaving me abandoned and desperate for my parents' attention. But nothing. I've never been the friend that anyone hung out with the most. I've never been the best friend, the cool friend, the special friend. But I lived with it.

I've never been the person that someone's been proud of. What do they have to be proud of? This anxiety ridden, antisocial freak? No. It's always been someone else. And most people don't have to go through that. If they did, maybe they'd have more sympathy towards me. Or empathy. But instead, there's apathy, and dare I say, antipathy. But I lived with it.

But recently, I'm not sure if I can live with it anymore. I'm not sure I can handle being forgotten anymore. So that's why I act out. In desperation. Even if they hate me, at least they notice me.

But it doesn't work. They still ignore me, treating me like gum on the bottom of their shoes that they can just step on and wipe off without a second glance. And because of that, I've start to cave in on myself. I've started to shut everyone out. And the worst part?

No one's noticed.

Maybe that's what hurts the most. That even when I give up, no one cares. Like they say, no one cares unless you're pretty or dead. And that's definitely fitting to me. But sometimes... I just wonder if everything's worth it. Because I know that things aren't going to change. I'm not going to magically meet people who love me and accept me without a second thought and I'll never be forgotten and I'll live happily ever after. I'm going to live the rest of my life cowering in fear of being treated like I'm invisible. Things never change. Especially not for me. Then again, I've never had the best of luck.

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A few weeks later, I was feeling a little better. I had started to get out of my funk and things were looking up a little. Plus, I was a little excited about my birthday, though I knew not to get my hopes up, seeing as I shared it with my perfect brother. I should've known better.

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So it was the afternoon of my birthday, and I was in better spirits than usual. Though I should've known better. If things were going that well, things could only get worse. And they did.

There I was, laying on my bed and listening to a random song on my phone, tapping my fingers to the beat. My brother, Michael, had come home a few minutes ago and came into my room to wish me an awkward happy birthday. We were never really that close. I repeated his message to him, as awkward as him. I didn't really care though, it was the best I'd felt in a while. I should've learned not to get my hopes up. But I didn't care. It was my 16th birthday.

A few hours later, my parents came home, coming up to wish Michael a happy birthday, then coming in and wishing me the same, yet not with the same attention or enthusiasm. But I didn't care. I heard them announce a few minutes later that we'd be going out for our birthday so we need to get ready because we'd be leaving in five minutes.

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After changing into something slightly nicer and getting my shoes on, I head downstairs with a slightly spring in my step to see that the other three were already in the car. Surely they're waiting on me. But as the car starts, I can feel my feelings fall into the pit of my stomach and my heart jump into my throat and form a lump too large for me to swallow. They've forgotten me. Again. I honestly don't know what else I was expecting. They don't care, I know they don't. They haven't cared for me, not even when I was kid. It was always Michael. It was never me.

It's never been me. It'll never be me. I'll never be the one in the spotlight. I'll never be the one loved. I'll never be anyone's favorite anything.

I can't do this anymore. I can't do anything anymore. I can't go on this way. Living, but not living. Hiding in a life of fear and anger and depression and heartache. Hiding in the shadow of others, yet still not able to come out of the shadow when I try to shine. I have to get away. I can't push these feelings down like with the others. I can't.

So my hand shakily writes down a few sentences on a piece of notebook paper, and I look it over for a few seconds before putting it on my pillow of my unmade bed. There's no point anyway. The note's only going to collect dust from never being picked up or read. They'll never even notice.

And before I know it, I'm out the door and running. Running anywhere, trying to make the wind hard enough on my eyes to create that delicious sting. But subconsciously, I know exactly where I'm running. The old bridge. My mind knows where it is well enough to run there in my sleep. Or with vision blinded by tears.

Standing on the edge, I look down, the fear finally gone for the first time in my life. It's the only thing I've been sure of ever. I raise my arms parallel to the ground like an angel, taking in a deep breath. And then I hear a car nearby. But it doesn't faze me. I look over to see my parent's car turn down the road that enters the bridge I'm standing on. By now, I'm in plain sight. I can see my parents in the front seat, and the vague outline of my brother in the back. With a raised eyebrow, I look to evaluate their reactions.

And nothing happens. The car drives by next to me, only inches away from my back. I stare into their eyes and they stare back, but they're not looking at me. They're looking through me like I'm a ghost, like I'm not even there. How could they not see?! I'm in visible, plain sight, legitimately next to them, one step away from my death! I guess that that's just the push I needed to take the last step.

With one last shaky sigh, I lean forward, throwing myself into a swan dive towards the ground. There's a smile on my face as the ground comes closer and closer and closer and closer and then I hit it and I lay there, but strangely enough, there is no pain whatsoever. Did I die that quickly? Am I dead now? I stand up, wiping dirt off of myself, and look down to see the ground exactly how it was, no body laying there, not even a leaf out of place. But... what does that mean?

And then the memories flood my head. Back when I was young, the accident. Michael and I were playing on the bridge happily, without a care in the world. And then a car came. It was way too close to the side that we were playing on, and I heard Michael screaming, and I felt the hard, painful sensation of metal against my front as the car slammed into me, throwing me off of the bridge at the very spot that I just jumped from only minutes ago.

That's why everyone's ignored me. Because they can't see me. Relief and dread shoots through me. But... where do I go from now? Continue living my horrible, miserable life? But now that I have this knowledge? Shouldn't things... happen? Like, shouldn't some angel or demon come and tell me that I can finally move on because I've remembered? But nothing happens.

But... people have noticed me before. Well, maybe two people tops. But still. So I rush to one of their houses, knocking on the door frantically. Minutes later, the familiar boy opens the door with a soft, knowing smile on his face.

"Come in, Mitchell. I guess I have a lot to explain, huh?" he asks. I nod. "Yeah, you do. So, are you..."

"Dead? Yes, I am. And yes, so are you, and you have been. But there's this stupid rule about death now that you get to live for a few more years so that you get to feel what it's like to live. Well, it's usually only for kids, but I don't know. I don't get why. But I'm sort of your... guardian. Another soul that's stuck here. But I'm stuck in this town specifically to be there for you when you 'become aware.' Yeah, I know, I don't get the rules either. But so the thing is, from here, you get a choice. You can either move on or you can stay here and live out your life until your 'death.' And don't worry, you get a week to decide," he explains calmly, leaving me speechless.

"Have you done this before?" I ask. He shakes his head. "No, but I've been trained for this. And I've been waiting for a while. Oh, and also with your decision, you get to decide what happens to me. Yeah, that's totally fair for me, I know. Well, sort of. If you choose to stay, then you can choose for me to stay here with you and help you or you can choose for me to move on and just live until your 'death.' However, if you choose to move on, then I go with you. But don't base your decision on me. I'm fine either way."

Noting my shocked expression, he chuckles. "I know, I know, it's a lot of pressure, but don't worry. And we're trying to get rid of this stupid rule. Everyone ends up depressed and suicidal anyway. Oh! Sorry, forgot to introduce myself. I'm Jalen. And I know that you're Mitchell."

I nod. "Uh, well, I guess I'm gonna go walk around for a while and... clear my head... even though I'm pretty sure that I know what my decision is." He nods at me and smiles. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Once you make the decision, there's no turning back," he warns. I nod. "I know. Uh, thanks..."

"No problem."

And I go back to the bridge, walking slowly and carelessly. What does it matter? I'm dead anyway. For hours, I sit there and think things over. When I finally start to walk back, it's about an hour until sunset. I finally get back to Jalen's house and I knock on the door. Yet again, he comes to the door with a smile on his face.

"Do you wanna come to the bridge with me?" I ask before he can say anything. Taken aback a bit, he nods. "Yeah, of course." So we walk in sweet silence, comfortable with each other. Sensing the sun starting to set, I grab his hand and start to run to make sure that we make it in time. By the time we sit down on the bridge in front of the clear sky, the sun is halfway set. Okay, there's still time.

"Hey, Jalen?" I ask. "Yes?" he responds. "Uh, can you do something for me before I tell you my decision?"

"Yeah, of course," he agrees. "Can you kiss me?" I ask nervously. Fortunately, he smiles and agrees, leaning forward to capture my lips with his sweetly. When we break away, the sun is almost down.

"Jalen, if we go into eternity, will you forget me?" I ask fearfully. "No, Mitchell. I would never forget you. Not even in eternity. I'll always be there for you," he reassures me.

And with that, I give him a small smile. "Okay. Then, I choose to move on." And as I say that, a light opens up the sky, brighter than the sun's ever burned. A hand in the sky beckons to me and Jalen takes my hand as we finally reach it. Finally, we disappear into the sky with the setting sun, and I know that everything will be okay, because I have Jalen, and he'll never forget me.