I am no one really, just another face in the crowd….another shadow in the dark. Nothing special. Nothing amazing. Nothing worthwhile. I’m no one really.
I hide in plain sight. People pass me without even looking at me, just through me, as if I don’t exist. I hold the door open for others and they take no notice. I wander the streets watching people and they don’t even notice. I fell once and sprained my ankle and had to make it the 10 blocks back home because no one cared. You see, I’m no one really.
A phantom with no place to haunt because no one seems to see me. I walked into a cafe this morning and took a lady’s wallet while she sat there not noticing me. I put it on the table beside her elbow and she never even knew I did it. I’m hollow because I’m not worth seeing.
The Grunge saw me though. Every morning he would stare at me while I was in the shower. He insisted on drying me off. Every afternoon after school he would tell me it was time for a nap, then he would hold me down and tickle me until I wet myself then he would get angry and the hitting started. The Grunge saw me. His hands were always rough and calloused. His breath always smelled like a pig shit in his mouth. His teeth were yellowish brown from chain smoking. But he saw me. No one else noticed when I stopped trying to fit it. No one else noticed when just sat in class saying nothing.
The popular girls noticed when the Grunge had had a go at me and they’d laugh and point at the stains he left on my clothes. They all laughed at me and called me “WHORE”and “SLUT” when my belly showed the baby the Grunge had put in me. When the baby left, they stopped seeing me. I was no longer there.
I take all that back….my brother noticed and still notices. I can always count on him for a hug. I can always count on him to make sure I care for myself. I can always count on him trying to get me to smile. He’s my angel!
But he can’t take away what the Grunge has done. Even though my brother rescued me from the Grunge, I still feel him watching me shower. I still feel him touch me when I sleep. I still smell his stink when I try to dream.
Is there such a thing as true love? Is there such a thing as true caring? Is there a way that people will at least notice you’re alive? I want to know what it feels like to be loved simply because I exist! I want to know what it is to be loved in spite of being labeled a WHORE and a SLUT! I want to know that the Grunge was wrong!!!!
But I am no one really.