I am Invisible. Completely invisible. I used to wish for the power of invisibility and now my wish has come true, too many years later when I no longer want it. I want to be seen, I want to be heard. I want to be…remembered. Because the truth is my family wouldn’t remember me if I died or at least it seems that way. They would remember what I did. Which is what a lot of people want to be remembered for, for what they did in this world. Not me. I want to be remembered as me, as who I was. My family would remember the house I always cleaned, the kittens I raised, the homework I helped with, the smile I faked, the one they thought was real. That’s it. The only things they would remember were things I did, nothing of who I am.
They don’t even know me because I am too invisible to them. I have had whole conversations with my mom that she doesn’t even think happened. I have told her things five times but she never hears me. I have done the dishes and the person they think did them is my lazy ass brother. I have been abandoned by my own family. My existence is only acknowledged in the times I am needed to help with something or to clean something. I have been pushed back to thedeepest recessesof their minds, only called on to help them. And I will help them in hopes that one day I will suddenly stand out in their mind not just as ‘the good kid who always helps out’ but the girl who suffers with depression, who still tries to do everything in her power to make everyone’s life easier even though she cant stand her own life. The one who is falling apart inside but still makes every effort to be seen by her mom. The girl who needs your help.
But it will never be because I am cursed with the power of invisibility. I just want to be noticed by you, mom. I just want you to see me, to realize, to understand, to listen.
And mom, when you think its funny that you don’t hear me when you laugh when I get angry that I am invisible, it hurts. Because even when I shout to you that you make me feel invisible, you just laugh, you don’t even realize that I’ve left the room to go cry alone, again. You think I’m overreacting. I just wish you could see me, wish you could realize what you do to me.