Solid Transparency

"What...because...doing...Why?!?!"

I jump from my bed with beads of sweat covering my face. The shirt that was dry when I put it on was now soaked with the salted tears that were streaming down my cheeks. I reach over to turn my clock around to see what time it is. When I get close enough to grad it however, my whole hand goes through the object. I quickly retreat my hand and hold it up to the moonlight that was coming in from my window.

"What the...?"

Assuming to see my hand I'm surprised with the fact that I can't see it at all! My hand has been replaced with tiny waves that look like water. Little by little the water like waves start to move up my arm and within a matter of minutes my whole body has been turned into basically nothing.

I'm transparent...

I attempt to get off my bed and luckily I'm still able to walk without falling through. I make my way to my parents room and attempt to open the door. That failed, what a surprise! Reluctantly I reach through the door and walk in. The only things I see are two lumps in the bed with a steady rise and fall of their breathing.

"MOM." I repeat multiple times till my mother slowly rises her upper body and props up on her elbows.

"Did you hear that honey?" She asks my dad. I walk my way so now I'm standing right in front of her. "What are you talking about?" he responds.

"I heard someone talking."

"You're just hearing things you crazy old lady. Go to bed already." After that he grabbed the sheets and rolled over covering up and falling back into his deep sleep. Why can't they see me?

I walk out of the house hoping the motion sensors would detect me and turn on the lights. One, two, three steps... no lights. Guess I'm not considered alive. No motion, not heart beat, not even the lights detect who I am. Or who I was. I decide to take a walk around the block for the soul purpose of getting my mind to go somewhere else. As I walk down Market St, glowing orbs of light encased in old vintage lamps line the road. Only a few shoppes are here in this town: first is Mr. Montgomery's shoe repair, which might I add has never been closed for any holiday. There's also a nice little diner that still uses the tall milkshake glasses and has black and white tiled floors. You also have the necessities: a post office that and elder lady with cat eyes glasses runs, a local barber shoppe which only knows how to do chili bowl haircuts, and a general store that's been here for ages.

However there's a special store that I have my eye on. Warehouse 21, an old antique shoppe around the corner from my house. It is owned by a sixty year old man and his wife who used to travel a lot. They sell some of the things they've collected over the years and give some of their money to the children's hospital over in the next town. I heard a rumor around the town that their granddaughter might be in there.

Instead of pushing the door open like usual, I'm able to quietly slide in without making a peep. I'm still not used to the feeling of the pressure that overcomes by body when walking through something yet. Taking light steps through the shoppe, I'm surrounded by pieces of art and history that hold more years and stories than I will ever have. Relics of gold, silver, and copper line the dusty wooden shelves. Dolls from Europe, koras from Africa, and tea cups from China all aliened neatly while they sit here longer and collect dust.

Wishing I could just run my fingers over the dust. Why can't I be seen with such beauty and wisdom like little pieces of matter are? Is my story not worth sharing with the people around the world? Water like the Dead Sea runs down my face. My shaking hands reach up to whip them away not caring where they litter.

"If you keep crying, at this rate you'll be able to fill a pitcher."

I jump back at the sudden presence of noise and look up to meet the eyes of a thirty year old man standing at the end of the shelf. He's tall and slender with grey streaks in his hair. A white button down shirt is paired with some blue jeans on his body.

I cock my head to the side. Is he talking to me?

"Hello? Are you mute or something?"

He can see me! "H-how can you s-see me?"

"Once you become transparent and unseen, your eyes become sharp like razors." He says with a smirk forming on his lips. "What has been given to you, is because of your own doing."

"Why?"

Beep Beep Beep, goes my alarm.

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A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that little story. There will be more short stories on the way so be on the lookout!! And don't forget to check out my very first fan fiction His Flower. 

Photo credits to: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6e/c4/ae/6ec4ae7e35bdb6d59dc37d230cd21a47.jpg