Incognito

Chapter 3

Have I gone crazy? Did that fall finally do it?

"Are you real?" the girl asks, a curious look engraved on her amber skin. She looks like she's only a couple years younger than me, if that, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She's actually quite tall, though, probably an inch or two shorter than me. Her grey eyes are filled with concern, but also with something I've been searching for this whole week; they're filled with hope.

I look at her with my eyes wide open, and suddenly I'm very self-aware of the fact that I'm only wearing boxers.

"Ye—yes..." I stammer, shocked by the sound of my own voice, which, of course, has remained unused for more than a week. "Are you?"

She nods.

"And you can see me?" she continues, moving towards me from her place behind the car. I pick myself up off the ground and inch my way along the wall of the building behind me.

"Well, yeah," I say. I scoot sideways, making my way steadily towards a man "walking" down the street a short distance off. "What's going on? Do you know?"

The girl just shrugs, continuing to make her way in my direction. I arrive at the gentleman and take the coat he's carrying from his stiff arms, then wrap it around myself and zip it up. I'm sure I look like an idiot, but I don't care.

"Okay," I continue. "How did you, you know..."

I'm not sure exactly how to put it. Rather, I'm not sure how to put it in a way that won't make me sound stupid. She pauses a few feet in front of me and looks me over.

"How did I what?"

"How are you, moving, I guess?"

"How are you moving?" she counters.

I stare at her, puzzled, but defeated. With a shrug, I dismiss her valid response and fold my arms, too in shock to think of a proper reaction. The next few moments seem to carry on for an infinitely long period of time, while the two of us struggle in silence to process what is happening. I'm finding that I have to retrain myself to actually think and respond to something—to someone—animate.

"I saw you fall."

"What?"

"I saw you fall. From the building. Was it on purpose?"

My cheeks turn red at her probing question. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I say, choking on the words. I suddenly feel much more exposed than I did before putting on the jacket. Just like that, all of my inner darkness has been thrust out into the open, all my supposed secret thoughts over the past week, everything that I assumed was between me and myself. Now, there's a bright spotlight shining on all my pent-up guilt, something I was hoping to bury away. My initial instinct is to run, but how can I? The hope that I may not be alone anymore clings far too hard to allow my legs to react.

"It's okay. I've tried similar things," she says consolingly, seeing the panicked look on my face.

"You have?"

"Oh yeah."

The girl smiles, and a wave of warmth and relief rushes through me, sweeping away the despair and guilt threatening to bubble up again. I return her smile and move forward with my hand outstretched.

"My name's Matthew. Matthew Harris," I say. She accepts my hand, taking it firmly in her own. Her skin is smooth and cool, but not clammy like mine usually is.

"I'm Kim. Kim Reisberg."

I can't help but smile wider at the sound of her voice. I don't know if it's just the fact that I haven't heard anyone else speak for days, but there's something addicting about her tone, the rich, alto timbre of it, the way she seems to infuse her genuine emotions into every syllable. It makes me feel like my entire soul is exhaling, like it's been holding its breath and can finally breathe for the first time since the world stopped moving.