the invisible girl
Once there was a little girl who discovered that she could make herself invisible. It wasn’t very hard, most people don’t notice little girls anyway. Each day she would go to school, dressed just like everyone else, and she would talk just like everyone else and eat the same things for lunch and play the same games and slowly she started to dissapear. It was wonderful at first. She was never bullied, or told off by the teachers. She was good, but not too good, and smart, but never too smart and it was almost as if she didn’t exist at all.
The little girl grew a bit taller and they sent her to a new school. It was then she realised that being invisible was something that was hard to stop. Each day she faded a little more in to the wallpaper until her hands became transparent, her feet translucent, and even she could no longer see herself. Once, when she looked in the mirror she saw nothing at all, just the bare green wall behind her. Now as girls are wont to do, when they grow a bit taller, she fell in love. The problem was that by now she was so invisible she could not get his attention. She tried everything, she wrote letters, drew pictures, sang songs, and he could see all of these but he could not see her, she was too good at being invisible and she didn’t know how to stop.
Eventually, she lost him, and her little heart hurt so bad that she ran away. She ran away from everyone and everything and she cut off her long long hair. She learned to write stories, her story, a thousand times over, recorded on paper, in print, that it might never be forgotten or fade away. She threw out her clothes and changed her name and carved herself a new identity and after a while, bit by bit, she began to be seen again. Not just seen, but noticed. They told her she was interesting, they told her she was clever, they told her she was beautiful and she didn’t believe them for a moment but she was so happy to be visible again that it didn’t matter what she looked like.
From then on she wore different clothes and said different things and played her own games and ate her own lunch and sometimes she got told off and bullied, but even that was worth it. One day, years later, she met him again. He called out her name, her new name, from the other side of a crowded room. She did not see him, or hear him at first and when she did she simply smiled and walked away.
Hello there dear, I’m so glad you liked my little space :) I can’t say how much I love yours, here. This story is so adorable, I feel tiny tiny emotions hidden in each phrase. The ending was unexpected, but beautiful :) Your words twirl around each other like waves. ♥
I am so happy that you like the end, I felt it had to go that way. Thank you ♥
That little girl sounds a lot like me, though I never changed my name. I discovered a few years ago that I mirror people. They like me, but I disappear. It’s like watching little pieces of yourself flutter away. I’ve stopped, found my voice, rooted it, but every now and then the mirror returns.
I’m glad you have found your voice, the mirror is frightening but if you beat it once I think you will be ok.
That was beautiful. Very moving. :)
Thank you Merry ♥
Wow. This is such a beautiful story! You are a very talented writer! I can’t wait to read more!
Kim
You are too kind, I think my writing still needs a lot of work, but thank you ♥
A very nice story.
Sometimes, we might want to become invisible since we just wanna to hide our weakness and ugliness, and escape from those tained things. But, being visible is actuatly better than being invisble.
p.s. Happy New Year!
Happy New Year!
I agree, it takes more courage to be visible, but it is the only way to be you.
i’m in love with the way you write..the way you turn real-life stories into something that seems to happen in just in books
lovely
Oh, thank you so much. That is what I try to do.
wow, this is breaktaking dear, you are such a talented writer ♥
hope you have a happy new year ♥
You are too sweet ♥
Happy New Year.
Perfect little story. I grew up in the 1970’s, and though ‘women’s liberation’ was in the air, girls like me still knew they were expected to be quiet and pleasing, and somehow disappear. I still feel this pressure at times. I hope it is easier today for girls to be themselves.
I hope so too, but I fear the pressure just changes, comes from different directions.
this story is wonderful. in a way i feel like the invisible girl was who i once was, mimicking others, afraid of showing who i truly was. then i met a boy, who didn’t see me. and if i ever saw him again, i’d like to think i’d have the same ending- to just smile and walk away. truly lovely story. happy new year. xx
I am glad you understand her story. The invisible girl is many of us, I’m afraid. Happy New Year ♥
Beautiful story (:
Thank you.
Good for her!
There are plenty of fish in the sea to choose from.
However… all it might have taken is for the boy to stop making himself invisible too and then pull a Mr. Darcy to redeem himself. ;)
I identified with this story in the reverse. As a child, I was always dressed differently and brought up differently, and quite aloof about anyone else’s opinions. I didn’t really appreciate it as much until later on. I suppose they might now, too.
I did know someone who changed their appearance, mannerisms, and name, all before moving to another country. He is really happy now!
Lovely story! Happy New Year!
I think the people we obsess over, especially when we are not sure of ourselves, aren’t the one’s we are meant to be with.
You are very brave to have had that strength all along.
I hadn’t thought of it that way. I appreciate the insight.
Thank you. There’s always room for growth.
I can relate to this so much (minus the boy part). Eventually, I became convinced that I had literally ceased to exist, since no one, not even my mother talked to me. In retrospect I suppose this was because I never talked. I didn’t even recognize my own reflection, or voice. After about 2 years of believing I had died and was stuck here as a ghost or something, I found out I had derealization and depersonalization disorders.
It was a very strange few years, though I’ve gotten a lot of good story lines and ideas from it.
I am amazed at your post,’Remarkable Prettybones”. How did you stop talking? It must have been so difficult to have your mother not talk to you. Glad you found out about your disorders and how to get better!
I’m glad, too, Pam.
Because our work and school schedules were very oddly timed (Mum was a dairy hand) we were only in the same house at night. She was working when I woke up, and then again when I got home from school, and I mostly slept in the afternoons.
Things have improved drastically, though, thank goodness!
I hope you don’t mind, but I read your blog. I am also in a ’stuck spot’ in my life, but I am 43 yrs old, lol. You have so much time! Set your goals, but don’t be so hard on yourself! Good luck to you.
The best stories come from the painful times, I feel the same way. I’m glad things have improved for you.
This is so wonderful and the ending is absolute perfection!
Thank you, I’m happy you like the ending.
what more can I say? Self- improvement and this is how all those girls should be. You describe the transformation ellegantly. We are all still a clear crystal, but through times we are carved bit by bit and each crystal would reflect the sunlight differently.
You make me feel like I am reaing Brother’s Grimm.
Happy new year!
That is a beautiful metaphor. Thank you.
Happy New Year.
“Each day she would go to school, dressed just like everyone else, and she would talk just like everyone else and eat the same things for lunch and play the same games and slowly she started to dissapear.”
i really identified with this statement. but it wasn’t about me, it’s kind of how i feel about a lot of people around me who go to my school. they all look the same and, though we have a uniform, they all have the same little variations such as longer socks and anklets etc. they all seem so much the same that they all blend into one another and i don’t notice them. my eyes just skim over the top of them like they aren’t even there. i like interesting things, not people who all look the same.
There are a lot of invisible girls out there, when you aren’t one it can be hard to sympathise with them, but some of them are really visible girls, trying to break out.
Such a sweet, sad, story! Such a similar story is true for so many girls. Thank you for sharing it!
Thank you for reading.
This brought tears to my eyes. It was simply beautiful!
♥ Thank you.
I love it! (:
Thank you ♥
That’s lovely.
I have no words. This is just so beautiful. Personal too. Well, to me anyways; though I doubt you’d never admit which bits relate to you and which don’t *pokes* :P
Very beautiful and moving story. I have a feeling many women share a similar one from their past…
Thank you. It is my problem at the moment that i am full of ideas and i know so much and i feel i could be so much more, but i´m afraid to show it more and i miss the time when i was younger and everything was much more simple, but maybe it is just one point in growing-up, but i still have to deal with it.
Happy new year to you!