Forgotten

Chapter One

An obese man sits on the sidewalk, salivating as he shoves a fat hand into a crumpled fast food bag. His hand emerges, clutching a smashed cheeseburger. I watch envious as he devours the greasy burger, sauces dripping from his mouth and onto the ground. He doesn't know how  lucky he is to be able to eat, to taste. To have the feeling of being full, or even hunger.
    Even though I know it's hopeless I walk over, reach into his bag, and grab a fry. Walking over to the to the nearest alleyway dumpster I plop the fry into my mouth. I nearly spit it out then for the horrendous mixture of mold, rotten egg, and urine that all food tastes like to me, but manage to swallow it. I wait for a while for it to reach my stomach. Violent pains stab my stomach and head; nausea threatens to overwhelm me. Clinging on to the side of the dumpster to keep me up, I puke up the fry, then dry heave for several minutes.
   Exhausted, I sit leaning against the dumpster panting. I stare at my shaking hands for a moment, then shake my head at myself in disgust. Why did I even bother trying? For as long as I remember I haven't been able to eat food without negative consequences. What drove me to think that this time, out of all the literally millions of other times I'd tried to eat food, that I'd actually be able to do it?
   Idiot, I mentally chastised myself.
   Why me, though? Out of all the people in the world, why am I the only one who can't even eat food? The only one who can't be seen by others?
   I think about the man bitterly.  He'll get old and die soon, just like all of the others. He'll just add to my never ending pain.
   Limping heavily I hobble over to a fountain and study my reflection. Dirt covers me from head to toe, something I can't do anything about. Although I can touch water, it feels like burning acid on my skin and leaves scars that take a millennia to fade. It's too big a price to pay to not stink.
   I'm wearing a grimy sweatshirt three sizes too big, and ratty skinny jeans that feel like they're full of straw. Not the nicest wardrobe, but at least I'm not walking around naked. My long, greasy brown hair partially obscures my face. I push it back and laugh dryly. I'm a wreck. My black, haunted eyes are sunken deep into my face, my pale skin pulled tight over my bones. This is a bad country for me. Too much death. I'm going to be nothing more than skin and bones if I don't change something soon. Unfortunately this is one of the more peaceful countries. Looks like I'll have to go somehow go to Europe. Wales, maybe. Dw i hoffi Cymru.
   Having reached my personal quota for feeling bad about myself for the day, I straighten with a sigh. Weaving in between people, careful not to touch them, I make my way to a large statue. I climb to the top and am almost settled when a pain much larger than normal explodes through my back. I fall of the statue, fifteen feet to the concrete ground below. As is my luck, I fall on my already screaming back, adding to the typhoon of pain. For a minute I can only see red. As my body slowly adapts to this onslaught, my vision clears and I find myself staring at a pair of shoes. At first I think they're just another person who can't see me and is looking at the statue, but then the shoes change and a teenage boy's face replaces my view.
   "Is she alive?" A voice calls out from behind him.
   "Yeah," the boy kneeling in front of me responds. "Are you okay? That was quite a fall. You're a Forn, right? Is that why people can't see you?"
   I try to respond, but the pain in my back makes it hard to think and glues my mouth shut.
   The boy finally seems to notice how severe the pain I'm in is. "Jage, call the Watch. Tell them we need medics."
"Okay," the boy who asked if I was alive sighed and pulled out a phone.
"Carter, hold her hand."
   "No! Why do I have to do it? You do it, Kalind!" A third voice says indignantly.
   "Not like that, you idiot! Your power is to take away people's pain, and I think she's in so much pain she can barely breath! Hold her hand at least until we can get some Watch medics!"
   "Fine," Carter gives in. I manage to shake my head, but Kalind will have none of it. "You're in a lot of pain, and Carter can take it away while only feeling a tenth of it himself."
   A freckle covered face replaces Kalinds. His brow creases as he sees for himself my condition. "Hold on. The pain will be over soon." He reaches for my hand. I desperately try to pull it away from him, but it's no use; my body won't cooperate. Carter takes my hand and immediately slumps forwards, probably dead. (Wow, aren't I the optimist.)
Kalind and Jage run over to Carter's body, call his name, despairingly shake him.
   Kalind turns to me with tears in his dark green eyes. "What did you do to him?" He choked out. Studying them for a moment, I sigh.
   "Either that boy was going to have an impossibly easy life, or Carter or whatever his name was, is still alive. Seeing as using his power causes him pain, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say the red head's alive." Chuckling a little at Kalind's and the other boy's startled expressions, I slowly prop myself up into a sitting position. Hissing in pain, I squeeze my eyes shut and ride out another tsunami of pain.
   When it resides, leaving me with the level of extreme agony that's seems to be my current norm, I slowly open my eyes to find Kalind's still tear filled green ones peering at me with concern.
   "If Carter only feels a tenth of the pain he takes away... and he almost died from touching you... How much pain are you in? What happened to you?"
   This seems like my cue to leave. Whenever things get too close for comfort I like to split. It's just easier for everybody.
Hauling myself to my feet I turn to the three boys. "Don't worry about me. Get your friend checked out by some medics, he'll probably be fine. Now there's somewhere I need to be..."
"You're leaving? No, you have to stay! You need medical attention!" Kalind wiped his eyes.
"Sure she's probably hurt and all that, but I didn't put up any wards and none of the humans are seeing this. I think she's super dangerous if simply being around her causes the humans not to notice us," Jage turns and glowers at me.
"Look? I'm probably ruining your friendship. I'll go, you guys forget about me, and you live long happy lives, alright?" Before they can respond I quickly dart away into the crowds, which move around me. It's always fascinating how that works. I'll step into a crowd, and the humans will invent some excuse or another not to walk where I'm standing. It's true everywhere I go.
Reaching the alleyway I had thrown up in earlier, I curl up next to the dumpster tiredly. Today carried more excitement than I usually got in a month. Three Forn? And they mentioned the Watch too. And two waves... geez. What a mess.