invisibility, [open]

Noon was a particularly miserable time of day for Redgrove. The sun was directly above you in the sky, casting down a merciless heat. Bethany wiped the sweat from her brow, staring up into the blinding light of the sun for a few seconds, then looking away to watch blotches of light dance in her eyes. Her mother always told her not to do this ("you'll go blind!" the worried woman would exclaim) but the young girl couldn't get enough of this mysterious spectacle. Not the sun, the sun was obvious and seemingly everlasting, but the dancing light in her eyes after she stared into the sun, that is what interested her. She wondered if every person's light danced the same dance, or if, perhaps, the dance was somehow programmed into the mind of every human being on Earth. If the latter was so, then she was witnessing a timeless manifestation that billions of people before her had seen and billions of people after her would see. Either she was very special and alone, or if she was not alone and the same as everyone else. Bethany didn't know which was better and which was worse. Sometimes she wished for individuality, for her own identity, and other times she wished to be the same as everyone else. Was it better to be alone or just another sorry soul bumbling around?At the moment, Bethany was experiencing being special and alone. She had climbed her favourite tree in Redgrove's park and was resting up against one of it's large branches. No one that walked by the tree seemed to notice her until they looked up, and hardly anyone ever did. Bethany liked to watch these passerbys and observe what they were doing or saying; spying on them, really. They were always too busy with other things to look up at the large, low hanging tree, so Bethany stayed still and quiet.She got tired of staring into the lights and turned over on her belly, looking down at the passing people with great intrigue. There was something very exciting about being able to see someone and have them be unable to see you. They would only be able to see Bethany when they were right underneath her and looking upward into the tree. She rested her chin on her hand, tilting her head carefully to peek down. She loved resting in the tree. She was close to the world she loved so much, but felt safe form it, invisible. Sometimes that is all a strange girl wants. Invisibility.

PEACE BENEATH THE CITY

You're in an empty house; nobody's home, but no one will come knocking. There's nothing around but empty picture frames, unoccupied couches, words left unsaid, and the smell of fear in the air. It's happened again. You always think back to that one little girl, the one with her sad brown eyes and her whispers of hope. She mistook it for a blessinng. She mistook it for power. It was her mistake.

You're in an empty house; nobody's home, but no one will come knocking.

Rosalind shuddered despite herself. She couldn't stop thinking of the night before, a crime went unwitnessed, unreported. She looked around the park and saw the people eating lunch, the children playing, the animals barking or chirping or chattering. Redgrove seemed so much more... full of life than she would've imagined. She saw the mothers and the fathers, the crying children, the stray dogs, the relaxed men and the gentle women. She wanted to know them all, know their names and their stories. She knew that she would be the only one left to remember. His name was Holland Pierce, but no one will know that anymore. She had to tell everyone, but how could she deliver messages if she could not be seen, if she could not be heard?

The ones that could see her paid her no mind. It was only a certain few; those who could sense the supernatural would see her, some species less clearly than others. But she preferred mediums, since she was long dead and they could connect with her best. And Rosalind felt a medium, somewhere nearby. She was strolling about, glancing at everyone that passed her and finding only disappointment, only blindness where she had hoped for sight. They were all blind, it seemed. She paused beside a tree, wishing she could feel the roughness of the bark against her fingers when she sensed it, the familiarity of being seen, the strange kinship she found with mediums. The young woman looked up and found a little girl looking down. She smiled and, without even thinking, appeared up in the tree with the girl, leaning against the trunk.

"Hello," she said softly, brushing her hair away only out of habit. "I like your hiding place. My name is Rosalind. May I ask you what your name is?" She still remembered all of the children, wailing and crying for their lost mothers and fathers, and the little girls, asking when they could go home. Rosalind remembered too many things, and as much as she cursed her memory, she knew she would not soon forget them.

WORDS: 435 NOTES: HOPE YOU DON'T MIND

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

The sunspots left dancing in her eyes from staring up in the sky still shined in her eyes. Usually it only took a few blinks before the lights would fade, but suddenly they began to turn brighter, even as her eyes were turned away from the sun. Brighter and brighter, flooding her sight, blinding her and making her head ache-"Hello," a voice said, so soft that Bethany almost didn't hear it. As the voice broke the silence, the lights faded, letting her see the park again. A woman sat in front of her, smiling. She had a gentle face, one that Bethany felt she could trust. Bethany always felt more comfortable around the strange and unusual, and this woman was definitely strange and unusual."I like your hiding place." the woman said to her, "My name is Rosalind. May I ask you what your name is?" Bethany didn't make a peep for a few seconds, eyes wide and curious. She scooted forward, closer to the stranger. "I'm Bethany," the girl said, lifting her hand and waving hello. "Bethany Oakes. This is one of my favourite places," She explained, running her small hand over the branch she sat on, feeling the rough texture scratch gently at her skin, like the fur of an animal, it felt alive. "You can see everything from up here, you know." She pointed downwards at people passing by. "You can see them but they can't see you. I like that. I like people, yeah, but being seen only gets you into trouble. I learned that the hard way." Bethany laughed; it was a friendly, youthful sound, but there was a sadness to it, a darkness.

PEACE BENEATH THE CITY

There were always children in the shadows, children who saw it fit to be not seen, not heard. Rosalind knew what it was to be invisible, to remain in the shadows, but she also knew that all of the invisible children were not alone. She wanted to speak, to tell little Bethany to run and not hide, make herself seen, make herself someone to remember. It takes the quiet ones first, the ones who think nobody is listening, it takes them and listens and devours them. The words would not form on her lips; they were stubborn, resisting her.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bethany," she said instead, her voice still steady and quiet despite the fear that suddenly shook her. She followed the little girl's gaze downward, watched the people drift by as if in a dream, knowing nothing about them save for the fact that they would all die. "They don't see me, anyways," Rosalind murmured sadly, her fingers lacing together without her knowing. "But you do, and that's very good of you." Hers was a small smile, but it was genuine and kind. She felt pity for this child; it was her burden alone to see the dead and it was her burden to be invisible, and others must think her very strange for it. She seemed sweet and well-intentioned, an innocent instrument to be sullied and used by the corrupt dead. Rosalind wished to grieve, to hug her and tell her everything would be all right (despite the fact that it would not, it would be far from all right), to lie so very much to this poor girl. But she had a message to deliver, and it was the medium's burden that weighed those tiny little shoulders.

"I must ask you something." Rosalind looked up through the branches and saw all of those green leaves intensified by the glare of the sunlight. Was it possible for her to go blind? Was she invisible even to the sun, or would it make a human of her yet? She blinked and saw nothing, not the dots of color dancing away from her like she was so used to. And in that moment, the young woman smiled softly. "And I must tell you something, something about what's to come. But first, Bethany. Have you encountered a book? A very special kind... a different kind of book. I'm afraid I don't know how to explain. Have you found any kind of interesting book lately?"

WORDS: 416 NOTES: HOPE YOU DON'T MIND

THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

"They don't see me, anyways, but you do, and that's very good of you." Rosalind said. She had a sadness in her voice too. It was a familiar sound. Bethany had heard it in her mother's voice before. That was how grown-up talked sometimes, when they were not telling kids something. Bethany smiled pleasantly at this woman, laughing quietly. "Well that's it, huh? I see everybody." The young girl nodded, drawing shapes with her fingertips on the rough bark of the tree they sat in. Bethany listened carefully to Rosalind's following words, her heart sinking into her chest, so far that her stomach began to ache like it had fallen right into her belly. She always got this stomach ache when she was stressed. Nobody ever had any good news when they talked like this lady did. Bethany may have her heads stuck in the clouds most of her life, but she was still very observant. She knew that tone, that sensation in the sound. Suddenly she wanted this stranger to go away. She scooted away, back a bit from Rosalind."Am I in trouble?" Bethany asked, voice quiet. She would drop right out of this tree if anything bad happened, she would run all the way home and hide under her bed until her mother came home. That was her plan. She hoped and prayed that this was nothing. Please let everything be okay.