Invisible

Stomped

*Michaels P.O.V.*

Another teacher found out that I actually was in their class today. I've been in her class for three months. But I don't blame her, like I've said. I was invisible. Nobody ever seemed to know I was there. But it's ok. I'm used to it by now. It's been like this my whole life. I guess I don't stick out to people.

Well, hi. I'm Michael. As you can tell from what has been said before, I'm not very social. I guess you could say I wasn't very out there. I don't have friends. But I don't have enemies either. I sit alone at lunch, teachers barely know my name. I get treated normal at home, just like I would in public. I mean if not being acknowledged or seen counts as normal.

For years I haven't been able to grasp someone's attention for more than two minutes. Trust me. I've kept track. I guess I could say I'm boring, but I really don't know how I am, I've never been known enough to try and see my personality.

I could also say I miss social interactions but that hasn't happened since I was five. I'm seventeen now. Twelve years to yourself makes you get used to things, even the things you don't want to get used to. But it happens.

School was average for me. I got a range of C's to A's. So it's really just fine. Fine. That's a word I use a lot. When my mom ask how I am. Fine. When a teacher ask how I'm doing on my work. Fine. It's fine. Fine. Fine. Fine.

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The next day at school was like any other. Went to my classes, got confused looks from people around me wondering if I went to this school, and teachers always missing my name on the call sheet. Another day of eating lunch alone and listening to music. Another day of watching people live their live. And another day of just the same old routine I've had for years.

Time for seventh period. Math. I was decent in math. Nothing to be noticed for. I got a B in that class, along with plenty of others. Some had very low grades. I only know that because being unknown and left alone, I had time to be able to figure out how others are.

I was kicked out of my thoughts by the final bell, signalling the end of school. I grabbed my books and rushed out of the room not bothering to even write down the homework. I just wanted to get to my locker before I get stuck behind the big rush of people.

I looked back as I was speed walking to see if I had dropped my paper. Soon I saw my books scatter and my papers fly throughout the hall, and I was roughly sent to the ground. There was a boy around my age towering over me with a confused look on his face. I think he was in my math class. There was suddenly a voice booming from behind me "Calum!" I knew that voice. It was Derek. He was in my science class, I called him the troublemaker. Because he really was. The boy who knocked me over ran off laughing about some joke he heard that day, leaving me on the ground. The wave of people came before I could pick up everything, meaning my papers were even more scattered and my books were being kicked. By the time the rush passed my things were all the way at the other side of the hall.

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Great. My finger's broken. Being as invisible as me, I get stepped on. A lot. I walked into the nurse office, her, as normal, not knowing who I am. She looked at my hand and jumped back. I admit. It wasn't a pretty sight. She was sweet though. She took my hand and led me to the back. She spent thirty minutes working on my hand, making a cast for it, and she told me what I was supposed to do to take care of it. Her voice was soothing and calm. I was just happy someone was actually directly talking to me. She didn't even remember me though...I've been in here three times for broken bones, excluding this one. Two broken fingers, now three, and a broken nose. I didn't understand how she was classified to work with broken bones but I really wasn't going to argue.