ANATOMY OF A GIRL

part six, i

Arlo felt like a whisper of a thing. He felt like a whisper of life in a shadowland. But the shadowland surrounding him was Belreistkov. He was certain of it. It wasn't only the recognition of the buildings and the grounds he'd viewed every day for the past year. No, it was a feeling in his chest. The first feeling that made him feel more like a person and less like a black hole.

Yet, it seemed it was a false vision.

The first student he crossed paths with, an eighth grader he'd never seen before, didn't seem to acknowledge him. Not a glance. The next person he passed was the same. He tried waving, talking, grabbing them on the shoulder. His hand simply passed through them, as if he were a shadow.

What began as confusion quickly became fear. It trickled into his veins and solidified his insides. He noticed his hands were trembling – a tick he'd developed when he was younger and hadn't been able to shake. When his hands began to shake, Flair would hold them in her own, and the sincerity in the gesture calmed him, halting the trembling.

The thought struck something in his chest. Flair. She was here somewhere. And though no one had been able to see him yet, he held the hope that she would. That Flair would be the one to convince him this was not a vision. Hope was a dangerous thing. It wrapped its manicured fingers around his heart and tugged.

Arlo made his way to Flair and Sapphire's dorm. He wasn't sure if they would be there. He wasn't sure about much of the world around him. He wasn't sure what day it was or what month, or even what time. Time still flowed into itself.

Arlo found himself in front of their dorm, and not even hope could stop his hands from trembling. He knocked three times on the door. He waited, counting time not in seconds but in heartbeats. It took three for Flair to open the door.

She stood in the doorway, wrapped in her favorite blanket. Arlo's breath caught at the sight of her, for when he looked upon her, he'd expected to feel a bright joy that lit up his chest. He hadn't foreseen feeling nothing. Feeling empty at the sight of her.

Her eyes were heavy, her skin dull, her lips dry and cracking at the edges.

But worse than feeling nothing – realizing that she, too, couldn't see him. She looked right through him, as if he were glass or mist. She took a step out of the dorm and into the hall, looking left and right to see who'd knocked on her door. There was no one in the hall, of course. Only him. He was standing right there. She couldn't see him.

He held out a hand, which was now shockingly still, pressing it to her cheek.

"Hello?" Flair called. Her heavy eyes narrowed further when she got no reply, and she looked down the hallway once more before closing the door in his face.

*

Arlo found his way to the bench at the edge of the campus, where the forest's trees began. He felt like he was made up of emotions, and he was theirs. They were not his. They allowed him to feel what they desired, and so he could not feel for himself. He could not feel wat he truly wanted. He wanted the warmth of seeing Flair, yet it hadn't come.

But perhaps that warmth would have only made it harder when he realized she couldn't see him. When he realized he was alone in this vision. The warmth would have only made him colder in the end. When he thought like this, it was as if his body was protecting itself from further damage. He could forgive it for wanting such a thing.

He watched students carry on with their everyday tasks. Walking to the cafeteria, to the sport fields, to the training centre. Carrying books and talking on the phone. Laughing and smiling. It only aided in making him feel more alone, if that was even possible.