Invisible

At dawn, she wanders aimlessly around the snowy streets of Surrey B.C for hours on end. I've seen her confusion and I've felt her despair. I've searched for any indication of life in her eyes but all I see is a vacancy of numbness. 

Like every other day, I stand outside the large manor where the girl I fell in love with lives in. The weather this morning is sunny and partly cloudy although I don't feel warm nor cold. The sidewalks and driveways are blanketed with 4 inches of snow from last nights snowstorm. The breeze has calmed down and the earth is as quiet as an empty planet. Tree branches and dead leaves are scattered about while gardens have suffered from a flood of mushy and fresh snow. I lean against the rusty brown limestone wall that has probably been through Millenials of generations. 

I don't have much to do these days other than stalk my ex-girlfriend. All I think about is her and when I don't, I ridicule myself by thinking about things that don't matter and are a waste of time thinking about. 

My ex-girlfriend locks the double doors of the forgotten manor and strolls past me without noticing me just like every other day. I frown, feeling forgotten just like this lonely wall. I sigh out of morbidity and desperately wish for her to snap out of her amnesia and shock everyday but God keeps ignoring my requests. Why God? Why are you putting me through this hell? He doesn't reply. While I slowly trail after my ex-girlfriend, I notice the red and black coloured long cotton flannel she's wearing and feel my lips twitch into a large smile. A smile too big for my face. She's wearing my flanneled shirt. All is not lost! She misses me, she has to. Why else would she wear my flanneled shirt today? There is the possibility that she hasn't done laundry in a while so she wore the last thing in her closet. But that also can't be a possibility because she's wealthy enough to have a wardrobe of never-ending outfits. This has to indicate that my ex-girlfriend misses me enough to wear the flannel shirt I lent her the day I asked her out. She had told me how much she liked my flannel so I took it off and told her she could keep it forever. She still has it and I'm surprised but glad...really glad. Thank you, God. Thank you so much for showing me that she still misses me. 

I suddenly feel this rush of gratitude towards God. It's an eerie feeling but it puts me in a state of tranquillity. The aching agony of heartbreak is replaced with a warm yet overwhelming soothing feel all throughout my body. My smile grows as wide as it can get with each blink of my eye because I keep seeing my beloved flanneled shirt being worn by my crush. Before my dear lover can make it to work on time, I decide to call out for her and have small talk. 

"Hey!" 

No reply. 

I furrow my brows and run up to her, "Look, I know we ended things but that doesn't mean we have to hate each other." 

She ignores my existence once again and pulls her black leather jacket closer to her chest. 

"Come on, at least look at me. This is so childish of you!" I groan and lock my jaw before I could say something I regret. 

I suppose she could miss me but still hate me at the same time. She's ignoring me like I don't even exist. 

She walks away from me as I stare off into the distance feeling dead inside because honestly, there is no life for me without my lover. I glance at the footsteps she left behind and start to walk beside her footsteps just out of sheer lethargy to see how big my shoes are compared to her petite ones. That is until I glance behind me at the fresh soft snow and see absolutely no footprints. There is no harsh wind today so why are my footprints cleared? I scrutinize my surroundings to make sure I'm alone and when I realize that no one had cleared my footsteps, I start to feel anxious.  

I gulp down the confusion I'm feeling and blink a few times just so that I know I'm not hallucinating. Unfortunately, I'm not seeing things. This is real and even though I'm terrified of the thought that my shoes aren't leaving footprints, I'm determined to find out why.

 Before I can start to unravel this appalling mystery, I have to make sure my ex-girlfriend got to work, safely. 

In swift haste, I make it to the ER where the girl in my story works as a surgeon. No one seems to notice me when I sneak past the receptionist, which I believe is me being lucky or I'm just an expert at being invisible. I see a few doctors walking in a small group towards me so I briskly duck under an empty desk. 

My heart grows faster with anxiousness knowing that If a doctor catches me here, in the 'employee's entrance only', then I'll surely be arrested for trespassing and my ex-girlfriend will probably hate me more than she already does. Although, I'm not sure she could hate me any more than she already does because her way of portraying her...extreme disklike towards me is by ignoring me which is absolute hell for me! Nothing could hurt me more than being invisible to my own girlfriend, I mean my ex-girlfriend. 

I hold my breath when the quiet doctors make their way past me ushering in small whispers. Just to be safe, I stay under the desk for a moment or two while nervously biting my nails and then poke the side of my face out from under the table.

No one is in sight. 

I get out from under the desk and stretch my arms and legs. The fear of being caught distracted me from the utmost uncomfortable position I was sitting in. One would think that the aftermath of such a position would cause back and leg pain but to my surprise, I don't feel any physical pain. How unusual. 

I shrug the thought away and put my attention on finding my true love. As I hide in the shadows and secretly wander the halls of this floor, my nose decides to do the walking. It leads me into the cafeteria and there I see her. She's wearing her scrubs and is sitting independently on an empty table. She's sitting on a chair with her elbows propped on top of the table and her chin resting in her palms. Her eyes linger at the smart T.V but I can tell by the neutral, distracted expression on her face that she's deep in her thoughts. 

Not caring if any of the other surgeons in here notice me, I steadily tread my way to her table and simply watch her submerge deep into her thoughts. At this moment, I wish that she'd just look at me with those bright baby blue eyes and stop ignoring me. Just look at me! Please, see me. 

And as if she read my thoughts, her head snaps to the right, where I'm standing. She looks at me for the first time in a week. My heart feels like it'll blow up from being overjoyed by this subtle action. 

I smile at her but she just stares at me while constantly blinking her eyes. I think she's about to scold me for being here. At least she'll finally talk to me. 

"I know I shouldn't be here but you've been ignoring for a week now. I don't even know why you're so mad at me. I'll leave now that you finally looked at me." I clarify the situation when her eyebrows furrow in confusion and her face scrunches up with puzzlement. 

"Mitch." Her voice is barely audible. 

"Elana." I smile but her lips only tremble and her eyes water. 

I feel the colour drain from my face when a tear slides down her cheek. 

As a natural instinct, I scurry to her side and wipe the tear away with a brush of my thumb. 

"H-How?" She croaks out loud enough to get the attention of some of the other surgeons. 

They glance at her but promptly look away as If they never saw me. 

I furrow my brows not understanding what she means. "What? Let's go outside and talk. You look like you need some fresh air." 

Elana gapes at me with wide frantic eyes and suddenly rushes out the door. 

resentment and embarrassment suddenly attacks me. I gulp down the humility I feel by making the love of my life run out on me with harsh terror haunting her eyes. What did I do? Should I have not asked her to go outside with me and have a chat? 

I bolt out of the cafeteria and follow Elana. "Wait! What happened? I'm sorry!" I holler. 

She glances back at me with endless tears staining her pink-tinted cheeks. Once again, I see the horror in her eyes. Every time she gives me that look, I feel like I've been shot one hundred times straight in my chest. She dashes out of the exit door and runs till she's made it to the graveyard. Why are we at a graveyard? 

She finally slows down and hurriedly walks to a gravestone and points at it before brushing some snow off of it.

When my eyes meet the gravestone, I think my body freezes. I don't move because I physically can't. I stare at the name carved into the gravestone as chills run up and down my body. R.I.P Mitch Romero, 1980-2020. In loving memory of a son and friend. 

I glance at Elana and tears immediately burst out. She frowns at me with compassion in her eyes and reluctantly grabs my hand and locks her thin fingers with mine. 

"I'm dead," I trail off as my voice cracks. "how did I die?"

"Y-you slipped over black ice which caused internal bleeding in your head," Elana explains while her teeth chatter. I wish I had a coat I could give her but I don't feel cold so I never carry one with me. Everything suddenly makes sense. I don't feel cold or physical pain because I'm dead. Elana wasn't ignoring me, she just couldn't see or hear me. I'm not invisible like I thought I was for an entire week. I am dead. I'm a ghost. 

"I was always clumsy. I never once thought that my clumsiness would be the death of me." I mutter. 

We stand in front of my grave in silence until Elana releases my hand and notices that the only footprints in the snow are hers. 

"Where are your footprints?" She questions me as horror strikes her facial expression, again. 

I had totally forgotten about my 'missing' footprints until now. Everything that didn't make sense to me earlier, makes so much sense now. 

"I don't think dead people leave behind footprints," I state realizing that I've uncovered the mystery of why I wasn't leaving footprints behind.  

In a way, I'm pleased that I died in winter. Mainly because the missing footprints lead me to find out that I'm dead. I could've spent a year or two thinking I was alive instead of being dead had there been no snow. 

Elana and I seem to be on good terms now and I'm happy to know that Elana is the one who revealed to me that I'm dead. I'm glad I didn't find out on my own or by someone else because then, I don't think I'd be as calm as I am now knowing that I'm dead. 

"Elana Wheeler, I'm still in love with you."

"Me too, Mitch Romero."