On My Way Back Home

Their First Encounter

The greenery was such a surprising, almost blinding change of scenery. Throughout all eighteen years of my life, I can honestly say, with as much certainty as possible, that I had never seen a field as green and lush as the one in the middle of which I am standing right now.

Neither have I ever been to a place as cold.

I knew Ireland was cold; I've read many novels where the characters lived in Dublin, but I never in a million years would I have imagined it to be this cold.

Of course, I could only imagine the harshness of the cold that must be engulfing this place. For some reason, I seem to not feel anything anymore. I was perfectly fine wandering around the field in my torn jeans, flowy t-shirt, and brown leather jacket.

The other day, I was so distracted by the tall buildings of Shanghai- a place that I had always wanted to visit but had always been dragged to extravagant places like Paris and Milan by my parents instead- that I walked straight into a stop sign. The expected Zing of pain that I had feared, however, never came. Instead, I only felt a barrier that stopped my next step.

No pain. No zing. No nothing.

It may sound like such a blessing, never feeling pain ever again. However, it just makes me feel unnatural, like I don't belong in this place the way everyone else does.

I guess things have changed after all.

Aside from the irritating numbness that overtook my body without any approval from my side, what really infuriated me about this new... state that I was in was my invisibility. In the first few days, I almost went insane after speaking to my sobbing little brother, my mourning father, my crying mother, and even strangers on the street, and impatiently seeing them as, one by one, they obliviously stared into the distance; stared right through me.

As if I didn't even exist anymore.

It was such a strange feeling, being ignored. I had always been popular in high school; I had my huge group of friends, I was head of the dance team, the Dandelions, I even had more than a handful of admirers who did everything they thought would get me to accept to go on a date with them. I had the perfect life, I was envied by many, and loved by much more, if I do say so myself. So having my words ignored, as if I had never uttered them in the first place, was a new experience, one that I did not like in the slightest.

"Mom!" I had screamed, standing mere inches away from her tear stained face, "I'm right here, why aren't you answering me? Why don't you see me?" I had turned to my brother, the one person in the whole world for whom I would do absolutely anything, no questions asked, "Kyle, my little dolphin, please answer me. Kyle, just look at me, please!" I had been surprised to hear so much despair in my voice.

Silence was the only thing that greeted me in return.

I coped though. After one too many breakdowns, I finally came to realize, and reluctantly accept, that from now on, this is how things are going to be. Whether I liked it or not, this was my new life. Ever since then, I hadn't gone back home, not even once. It was too painful.

A sudden strong breeze ruffled my long dirty blonde hair, pulling me out of my brief internal reflection. I looked up and for the first time since I'd arrived in this field I saw the silhouette of a man, all bundled up in a large black coat and wearing an ice cap to cover his head and ears, walking in my general direction. I realized that aside from this lone stranger, I had yet to come across anyone, be it a man or a woman, in the couple of hours that I had spent in this field. It was a relief, in a way, not having so many people surrounding me. It was the complete opposite of New York, the bustling city where I once used to live. Where my mother, my father, my best friend Lauren, and most importantly, where my little dolphin lived. I wondered if Kyle had gone back to swimming lessons after my departure. Ever since he was a little boy he had been a lover of the water. By the time he turned five years old, he was already a better swimmer than I ever was. That's how he got the nickname "little dolphin". I wondered if he had one of his swim meets, he always loved it when I would come to cheer him on, his toothy grin visible even to the spectators at the top of the bleachers...