Chapter 1

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CHAPTER ONE

The Art of Being Invisible

 

The "fight or flight” response is the primitive and automatic instinct that prepares one to ‘fight’ or ‘flee from’ a perceived threat.  Fueled by a rush of pure adrenaline in the face of danger, this inborn reaction is entirely physical and is therefore responsible for the survival of countless, human and animal alike.

        All living, thinking, sentient beings possess this impulse.

       Except for Roza.  

        Why?  Roza used to tell herself that it was because she couldn’t bring herself to care, but that was a lie.  Really, she no longer had the strength of soul, nor the confidence, to react at all.

                 ~Claire Pia

 

*March 5, 2013    5:53pm*

        Contrary to popular belief, I knew exactly how attractive my exterior could be.  I knew that I was beautiful, that my body was the kind even gay men want, perfect in every way.  This wasn’t conceit, but rather certain acknowledgment of an undeniable fact.  

That knowledge terrified me.

So I hid myself as best I could under multiple layers of clothing that was several sizes too large to begin with. Today, the top of that ‘outfit’ consisted of a two thin black tank tops, a long-sleeved white shirt, a tattered maroon sweater, and an oversized gray hoodie that covered it all. The bottom? Tights under leggings under long, baggy sweats.  It wasn’t even a style; nothing matched in any sort of theme, but that wasn’t the point.

 

The Art of Being Invisible

        Rule 1: Hide yourself.

 

        The only problem with hiding in high school was that nearly nobody wanted to, so, those who did, stood out.  Peers looked even more closely than they ever would have if you weren’t trying so hard to go unseen. Which defeated the purpose.  Except.  I would much rather have the interested gazes of strangers than have to spare the effort of shallow conversation.  Which is what I’d have to deal with if I ever peeled back the protective screens.

        But that’s a tangent.

        High school males didn’t look long enough at one such as I to realize that I was hiding; they assumed that what you saw is what you got: a little nerd girl, not worth their time.  Females, on the other hand, saw what really was, under what was shown. Unfortunately.  Because, in the high school hierarchy, anyone more beautiful than you is a threat.

        Like this morning.

        “What is that?!”

 

The Art of Being Invisible

        Rule 2: Ignore.         *If you don’t exist, then nothing they say is real.

 

        The question came from a platinum-blond with a dancer’s body, her sugar-voice tinged with just the right amount of disgust to grab attention and I slipped up.  My gaze lifted just long enough to catch Tiana’s, and the older girl’s eyes widened with an almost gleeful look. I bowed my head lower to the ground, but it was already far too late.

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