The unseen

How I wish

Prologue

How I Wish

The worn, wooden desk felt like a prison cell, its surface scarred with the remnants of countless erased dreams. The fluorescent lights hummed a monotonous tune, a soundtrack to the humdrum of my existence. It was the same routine every day: wake up, eat breakfast, go to school, eat lunch, go home, eat dinner, sleep. Rinse and repeat.

My life was a symphony of silence, a muted melody played on the strings of mediocrity. I yearned for a crescendo, a dramatic shift in the tempo of my life, but the notes remained stubbornly flat.

I was a ghost in the halls of my school, a shadow flitting through the crowded corridors. I had classmates, yes, but not friends. I was a face in the crowd, a name in the register, a statistic in the attendance sheet. No one ever noticed me, let alone remembered my name.

The annual family reunion was always a bittersweet affair. It was a chance to reconnect with relatives I rarely saw, but it also served as a constant reminder of my own lackluster social life. This year, as I stood awkwardly on the periphery of a group of cousins, the same question inevitably arose.

"How about you, Rixxie?" Aunt Lily, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and amusement, inquired. "Any special someone in your life?"

My stomach twisted into a knot. I knew this question was coming. It was a ritual, a yearly interrogation that left me feeling exposed and inadequate.

"No, Aunt Lily," I replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I can live independently without having a romantic relationship."

But even as I spoke those words, a deeper truth tugged at my heart. How I wished I had experienced the thrill of being pursued. How I wished someone would surprise me with flowers, their fragrance filling my small apartment, their bright colors lighting up my otherwise dull existence. I longed for someone to fetch me from work, to take me out for ice cream or a walk under the stars, to share laughter and secrets, and to make me feel like I was seen.

As the evening wore on, I watched my cousins laughing and flirting with their partners, their joy palpable. I could see the way their eyes sparkled when they caught each other’s gaze, the easy way they leaned into one another, their hands entwined. I felt a pang of envy mixed with the ache of longing.

“Rixxie!” someone called, pulling me from my reverie. It was my cousin Mia, her arm draped around her boyfriend. “Come join us! We’re playing a game!”

I forced myself to smile and joined them, but my mind drifted. In the laughter and chatter, I felt like an outsider, a spectator to a beautiful performance I could only dream of being a part of. They were all so effortlessly happy, and I was just... here.

As I sat on the sidelines, I couldn’t help but think about the moments I craved. The small gestures that could mean so much: a text message just to check in, a sweet note left on my desk, or even a spontaneous adventure that took me out of my daily routine. I wanted someone to make me feel special, to remind me that I mattered.

Maybe one day, I thought. Maybe one day, someone would notice me. Someone would see the Rixxie beneath the surface, the girl who yearned for connection and excitement. Someone would break through the walls I had built around myself and show me what it felt like to be desired.

"How I wish," I whispered to myself, a silent wish cast into the universe, hoping it would find its way back to me. "How I wish I could experience all of it."

As the night wore on, I clung to that wish, letting it wrap around me like a comforting blanket, even as the reality of my solitude pressed in from all sides. I might be a ghost now, but one day, I hoped to be seen. One day, I wished to be more than just a face in the crowd.