Extremely Invisible

Prologue [An Ugly Girl's Funeral]

Belle was never pretty. She had blonde, unruly hair that she hardly ever tamed, dull grey eyes and the type of skin that not even the best of Clearasil's products can make look acceptable.

Belle was lovely. She used to feed the wild cats living in our street, and give bake cupcakes that she'd give to homeless men in the street. She would listen to the all my stupid stories, and nod, and agree, and pretend that she was incredibly interested.

Belle was intelligent, and her grade reports were dead wrong. She just couldn't be bothered with something as silly as our education system, which I also thing is dreadful and absurd. My parents would ground her every time one of her teachers would call home, saying that Miss Annabelle Wilbers had been, once again, caught reading books under her desk during an 'extremelyimportantlesson' (Such as ICT.)

Belle was my sister. Older and wiser, the one who would let me borrow her clothes and give me car rides, and hug me when I cried and sing loudly in the shower.

Belle was dead. Cold and lifeless in her big wooden box, surrounded by flowers. (It occurred to me that it was pretty ironic how my sister, who had always been allergic to them, had only been able to be near flowers once she had died.)

Of course, these are not the words I said, at her funeral. When I stood up, pulling my black skirt down, and rubbed my eyes to make it seem as if I had been crying (Because, what kind of horrible person doesn't cry at her sister's funeral?), and faced the crowd of familiar faces and not so familiar faces, I pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket.

I read it out loud.

'It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea;

But we loved with a love that was more than love-

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me-

Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we-

Of many far wiser than we-

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. '

At this point, my voice broke, and a single tear rolled down my cheek. I tried very hard not to shed any more, at least, not before I had finished reading.

'For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.' - I finished.

The people were silent, absent mindlessly staring at me, in hopes that I had already finished (It's sad to see sad people.)

'That was my sister's favourite poem. It's by Edgar Allan Poe, who was also her favourite poet. She liked it because it had her name in it and, well, because it's pretty.'

I raised an eyebrow, my eyes now flooded with tears. I sat back down and stared at my feet. My Annabelle was now as dead as the Annabel in the poem, and I couldn't help but think that maybe she was better off that way.

Because if my sister had been happier, maybe there would be more that thirteen people here, all relatives. Maybe there would be more than two girls in the bench reserved for friends, and maybe a few more people would've actually been touched by her death.