Invisible.

Ｉｎｖｉｓｉｂｌｅ.

Invisible. Such a simple word; four syllables, eight letters. Invisible isn't a simple word though. The dictionary defines it as "unable to be seen." I don't agree. I'm not unable to be seen, I'm there, trust me.

You know that feeling when you go to a new school on the first day? Everybody is running around shrieking and trying to find their friends; the girls are laughing obnoxiously and hugging each other in joy, the boys are fist bumping and trying to make their summer sound manly. And then there's you, standing alone in the hall, meekly waving at a couple kids that make eye contact, hugging your books tightly to your chest, eyes scanning the room frantically for a familiar face. And as you just stand there you let the feeling wash over you and think, this is what its like to be a chameleon, I'm finally feeling it, but then you realize, wait, I'm not blending in anymore; I'm becoming invisible.

Now take that feeling, recall just how awful it is, how terrifying and lonely, and commit it to memory. Got it? Okay, good. Multiply that feeling by 180 days of school, and add in a healthy dose of nonexistent for good measure. What does it equal? My life.

Dedication goes to @annielovesyoo for the lovely cover. Thank you so much! :D ily.