Do you believe me?

Invisible Boy

He was late that morning.

    We were supposed to meet and he was late.

    I stood. I remember that. I stayed standing in the back parking lot behind the school.

    It was where we were supposed to meet. Where we always met.

    My legs trembled from the cold and my face ached as the frosty air furiously brushed against it.

    But there I stood. Waiting.

    He came eventually. Walking towards me with a faint smile plastered across his pale porcelain face.

    No jacket. I remember that. I remember thinking that he was going to be freezing and I should offer him mine.

    I didn't.

    He stood in front of me. Ran his fingers over my left cheek and asked what happened.

    I don't remember what I said or what he said next.

    But he was angry.

    I do remember that.

    I remember him rubbing my arm, telling me I didn't deserve to get hurt by them anymore.

    And that he would take care of it.

    He did.

    I stood. In the back parking lot.

     This time there would be no Daniel to wait for. I wanted to try and reassure myself that he was just late again. And that he would come.

    He wouldn't.

    As we drove by, the front of the school was bombarded with news trucks and kids huddled around each other, hugging while sobbing uncontrollably. Mom insisted in the car that it would be more appropriate for me to avoid the crowds and enter through the back of the school. Little did she know, I've been avoiding the crowds long before any school shooting had taken place.

    Leave it to mom to not account for the updated changes the school might have made to ensure that what he did didn't happen again. The back door was locked and I could feel my hands slowly morphing into frozen icicles from pulling at the handle for too long. I had no choice but to walk around to the front of the school and enter in like a normal human being would. Except the only person worth seeing in this place was Daniel. In the back parking lot. But that wouldn't happen ever again.

    Walking to the front took some time. Partly because of the heavy snow that was pilled onto the ground and partly because I did not want to get to my destination. My snow-boots sunk more and more with every step I took. This might have been the coldest day of the year for Wisconsin. Even if that was the case, I know Daniel would have shown up with no jacket and probably complain he was hot. The thought of that made me smile.

    Luckily for me, I seemed to remain invisible both before and after what had happened. The news-crews left me alone as I walked passed them. They decided their time was more valuable filming the students who were soaked in their tears and speaking with fear in their voices. If they knew who I was, they would be fleeing towards me, attacking me with tons of questions. But they didn't know anything about me. No one did.

    However, the kids at Milton High were a different story. They thought they knew and I could feel their eyes glaring at me as soon as my snowy boots stepped foot into the building. I think I even saw a few flinch back in fear that I might snap and follow in Daniel's footsteps right then and there.

    I was no longer invisible now.

    I kept walking, straight to my locker. As I walked, the eyes followed. So many eyes, so many people, and only one me.

    I didn't like the feeling of being watched. My hands trembled as I desperately tried to move the tiny blue lock to open my locker. What was my code? 30-24-52? No, that can't be right. 32-37-57? I couldn't remember.

     Amnesia seemed to be a reoccurring theme with me since it happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to quite recall the events leading up to Daniel's demise. I remember it was cold. I remember getting beat up. I remember Daniel's voice talking so quietly yet so full of rage that you could sense the danger from a mile away.

    A mile away. Yeah right, if that was true, I should have been able to see that something was wrong. I should have been able to stop him.

     I didn't.

    More eyes were on me now. There was no way I would possibly remember my locker combination like this. As my own eyes slowly made their way around the hallway, I noticed what was happening. A group of freshman girls walked by me with their heads down, holding hands as they passed. Another group of sophomores with mascara stained faces, carefully tiptoed by my locker as if Daniel was still in the building, pulling the trigger as we speak. Some kids stared at me for seconds before quickly jerking their heads away and making a run for class. Others would glare at me, giving me a look colder than the snowy weather outside before continuing to walk. But the one that caught my attention the most was the senior boys on the lacrosse team.

    When my eyes met with theirs, I flinched so hard that I managed to hit the back of my head on my locker. Which was ironic if you thought about it. Daniel's "meltdown" was meant to stop moments like this, yet I still managed to get myself shoved into a locker, whether it was intentional or not. Normally it would have been one of the six eyes glaring back at me now that would be responsible for the insane throbbing that was going on inside my head right now.

    Daniel and I were both immune to getting our asses handed to us by one of the original four. Although, I always seemed to be a clearer target. I knew why. Even before he did what he did, Daniel had a tempter that was written all over his forehead. Those boys detected that and knew better than to throw a punch with him. So, instead, Daniel would bare listening to the typical comments such as getting called a "fag," Where I would pay the physical consequences of having my whole body shoved into lockers on the daily. It was funny to me how we were the ones who were bullied every single day, yet Daniel was the one labeled a monster and a criminal.

    What I do seem to remember is the morning of that day. Myself correctly putting in my locker combination just to get smacked back into it with fists that hit as hard as steel. Those fists belonged to Cole Crawford. I remember the twinkle in his eyes as I stood there, head throbbing similar to now as blood dripped down from my face. He looked accomplished and the three boys by his side almost looked proud that their leader nearly killed me in the middle of the hallway. It's funny how an act like that can be praised, but Daniel's was feared. I remember Cole taunting me with questions as the blood began to stain my shirt, asking where my boyfriend was all while the three of them corned me while laughing. I remember them walking away mocking me. I remembered making my way outside where I stood waiting for Daniel. I remember him being late. I remember the anger in his eyes when he saw what they had done. I remember Daniel saying he would take care of it.

If he would have just left me alone then Daniel would have done the same.

    The three of them looked lost now without Cole by their side. They stood there motionless, staring at me, before getting enough courage to continue to walk. For a split second, I thought one of them might be getting ready to reach their hands out and nudge me back into my locker like they typically would.

    No one did.

    Now that was ironic, I was still in fear of the boys on the lacrosse team, meanwhile, everyone else was afraid of Daniel.

    And me.