An Illusory Reality [Completed]

An Illusory Reality

Strange thing was, it almost seemed like he didn't exist. It wasn't that he never talked - though it certainly didn't help. When people bumped into him in the hallway, they didn't even glance his way. In class, everyone acted like his seat was empty. Elision never did anything about it. If someone wanted to sit in his seat, he'd move without a word. Not even the teachers ever fully realized he was there. When calling role, they'd give a start at his name and ask: "Elision? Do we have an Elision in his class?" Everyone would look around, confused, unable to see his raised hand. No one noticed he was there until I pointed him out, and they all forgot soon after.

Another thing that disturbed me about Elision was the bruises. The bruises only I noticed on the boy only I seemed to know existed. He never acted like they hurt him - he didn't limp, wasn't overly careful, didn't wince when something hit one of the bruises. I wondered where he got them. It couldn't have been bullies - the bullies didn't know he was there.

They knew I was, though. But I was luckier than most - all they wanted from me was homework. I always brought two copies of everything, one for them and one for me. I had no idea why they were so nice to me, but I wasn't about to start complaining. Complaining doesn't get you anywhere. It doesn't do your homework for you, it doesn't make school go away, and it doesn't stop your teacher from catching you daydre-

"Xanthe! Would you mind listening for once?" Mr. Gordon 's nasal voice interrupted my thoughts. I plastered a contrite expression on my face.

"Sorry Mr. Gordon, it won't happen again." I could see the dubiety on his face, but as per usual, he didn't call me out on my lie.

"Very well Xanthe. Class, that's it for the lecture. Make sure to annotate your cornell notes before I see you again on..." Where was I? Oh, right, complaining. Like I said, complaining won't do anything unless you're a spoiled child who has someone waiting on you hand and foot. Which I'm not. Although I might complain every once in a while - after all, I'm not perfect. For example, I often say: I really hate annotating cornell notes. Honestly, who doesn't? But complaining about it doesn't stop me from having to do it.

"Class dismissed!" Finally. I gathered my stuff and headed for the photography classroom, making sure to take the long way round so as not to bump into any unsavory people - such as Zinc, for example. I scanned the classroom as I walked in, and saw that I was one of the first to arrive - Elision was the only other person there. I walked past him and took my usual seat - back left corner next to the window, and waited for Mr. Gottshal and the rest of the class to arrive. Mr. Gottshal came in first.

"Hello, Elision, hello, Xanthe." I always forget that Mr. Gottshal is one of the few who realizes Elision exists. It might have been because he was a professional photographer, and paid great attention to detail. Throughout the next few minutes my classmates trickled in, one by one, and their chatter came with them. When Mr. Gottshal finally got them to quiet down, we were greeted with some surprising news.

"Today you will start working on a project. You'll need a partner, and I'll be determining who you work with. I've noticed that when I allow you to pick, some people get left out, and some people don't get anything done. Put all your things in your backpacks and be ready to move when I call your partner's name. "Brynna and Marianne. Conner and Sarah. Flora and..." I tuned out, not really paying attention but keeping my ear out for my name. "Xanthe and Elision." I heard murmurs of confusion spread through the classroom.

"Who's Elision?" "I don't remember ever having an Elision in our class." I sighed and stood up, making my way over to Elision's seat. I sat down in the empty seat next to him, and turned around to face the front. I could feel his eyes boring holes in my head, but I refused to talk to him until Mr. Gottshal is done.