Invisible

         Friday, 2:50pm~Idaho
 Snowflakes fell, fat and white. The girl looked up at the gray sky and closed her eyes, letting the flakes land on her eyelashes. Shannon felt so blissfully alone out there, where everything was white. She turned her back and pretended that the red car wasn't pulling up behind her. The crunching of the tires on the brittle ice was inescapable, though. She bent her head down to the ground as she listened to the familiar noise of a car window being rolled down. You can't see me, you can't see me.

         Friday, 2:50pm~New York
 The roads were icy; very, very icy. The 17-year-old boy gripped the steering wheel of black Hummer tightly, maneuvering it easily. Any other day it wouldn't have worried him, but something about the gray New York afternoon made him uneasy. All day long Kyle had had a weird, prickling feeling on the back of his neck. His mother always said he had whip sharp instinct for things. The Christmas when he was eight he had sensed a stove fire before it had ever happened. Now, that same feeling was flooding through him, choking him.

         Friday, 2:50pm~New Mexico
 “Sorry, mi madre said no. Dad said he didn't care, as long as I stayed out of the mosh pit, but you know that mom's word is the rule.” The teenage girl sighed angrily as she rolled onto her back on the canopied bed. Long tendrils of black hair fell onto the girl's shoulders and she began to curl a strand around a finger. Tatiana had been waiting for this night for so long. A night where she could listen to great music, dance and have fun with her friends, away from her parents. She listened a few moments to her friend before laughing and saying good-bye. After hanging up, her eyes strayed to the window above her head.

         Friday, 2:50~California
 The lanky teenager made his way down the street, holding his large jacket around him, close. It wasn't so cold, but his skin was chilled with nerves and a cold sweat had broken out on his neck. Shawn had promised so many times, but he needed this money. Bad. His little brother was in the hospital and there was no money coming in from his parents to pay for the bills. It was always his responsibility, and he was only 17-years-old. Anger mingled with the fear, but it didn't last very long. The car was waiting for him, where they had promised.

         Friday, 2:50 pm~Florida
 The breeze flowing along the beach was warm and the couple walking along the shore came to a halt. The blonde girl giggled and clenched her boyfriend's hand tighter. When he didn't squeeze back, she dropped his hand and crossed her arms. She pouted and turned her face away.
“Izzy...” The boy grabbed the girl by the shoulders and made her face him. Angry tears were in Isabelle's eyes.
“No. No, I don't want to talk about it.”

         Friday, 2:50pm~Texas
 “Hey, it's warm enough for a dip!” The tall, muscular boy splashed into the water, laughing. His little brother sat on a rock, gazing out at the water. Aaron turned and splashed his brother, laughing as the 8-year-old squealed and slipped into the water. The lake was surprisingly warm for February. Aaron waded out and sighed as he dragged his fingers through the water. Another beautiful afternoon.

         Friday, 10:00pm~A rope swung from the closet door; a car lay on its hood on the frozen ground; a sweater hung torn and bloody on a fence; a window was cracked from a stray bullet; a hypodermic needle lay on the expensive Persian rug; a young boy shouted from the top of a rock.

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 It felt something like being sick and teetering on the edge of consciousness, then falling asleep at last, Shannon thought. She could barely feel the rest of her body, but her mind was racing. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her hands felt oddly disconnected to her face. She looked around her and that's when she saw that she was not alone. In the small, dark room there were two other girls and three boys. Shannon forced herself to stand but her legs refused to move. When she glanced down, she saw that she was already standing. Fear and surprise beat through her. Where was she? What had happened?

 “We don't know either.” One of the girls said. Shannon looked up at her. The girl was of average height and had the most beautiful hair Shannon had ever seen. Jet black and looked as smooth as silk; it hung in wide curls just past her shoulders. She was Hispanic; her eyes almond-shaped and a pure brown. The girl turned away, and Shannon saw that a little square window was on the wall before her. A thin ray of light slanted through. The other four occupants of the room had barely stirred. Glancing at each one, Shannon could only see confusion and a strange blankness on their faces.

 “I feel nothing.” The third girl said. She had her arms crossed and it seemed as though she spoke to no one but herself. Her eyes were cast down at the floor. Blonde, almost white, hair, straight as a piece of new paper, fell nearly to the girl's thin waist. Shannon said nothing, instead, she gazed at the girl. A strange calmness was washing over her, and she sat back down.

 “Where am I? What happened?” The tallest person in the room, a boy, asked loudly. Everyone glanced over at him. He had voiced their major questions. Shannon tilted her head a little, a habit of hers, and studied the speaker. He was at least six feet tall and sinewy; not so muscular, but lean. His black hair was shaved short and he had deep brown skin. He looked angry; the first show of emotion so far.

 “None of us know.” Another boy replied, his voice sharp with annoyance. He had had his back to everyone so far, but now he faced the room. He was, Shannon thought dreamily, the cutest boy she had ever seen. He had sandy blonde hair that covered one intensely blue eye and he had a full, expressive mouth. His fists were clenched but Shannon felt no fear. She barely felt anything.

 "I feel funny. Like I'm floating.” The girl with the pretty black hair said, turning towards Shannon. Shannon forced herself to reply.

 "So do I. I can't remember anything.” Her throat felt raspy, like it had been a while since she had used it. The tall boy glanced at Shannon quickly.

 “Nothing? Not even your name?” He asked, his voice suspicious and demanding. Shannon thought for a moment, head bowed. Yes, yes, she remembered her name. It clung to her tongue, afraid of being lost forever. Shannon.

 “Shannon. That's my name. I can't remember anything else.” Shannon stopped, collecting her thoughts. “Well..no. I can remember my parents. But that's it.” She said with finality. Then, one by one, everyone spoke their names.

 “Shawn.” The tall boy with the dark skin said proudly.

 “Tatiana.” The Hispanic girl said calmly.

 “Kyle.” The cute boy offered, looking slightly annoyed.

 “Isabelle.” The blonde girl said quietly.

 “Aaron.” The boy who had yet to speak said, in a deep voice.

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 By the time an hour had passed, as Tatiana approximated, everyone knew everything they could about each other. It was easy, since there was only names and one little memory that could be given from each person. Tatiana had only one memory; that of her older sister, Adriana. She had no idea why the image of her sister floated up, but it did, and Tatiana knew exactly and immediately who the girl in her mind was without having to think it over.

 “I just want to know why I'm here.” Tatiana looked over her shoulder at Isabelle; the girl with the incredibly long hair and slight French accent. Out of them all, Isabelle looked the most lost. Well, she didn't hide her confusion, anyway. Shawn looked unaffected, his arms crossed, and Kyle looked plain mad. The two others; Shannon with the red hair in a tousled ponytail and Aaron with the hair almost as black as hers had no expression.

 “How can we find out? Why are we all here together?” Kyle asked suddenly. Tatiana wanted to retort and say, How do any of us know? But instead, she just turned away and willed herself to cry. A lump had formed in her throat and an overwhelming tide of emotion overcame, but she didn't, couldn't cry. She rested her hand against her chest, hoping to calm herself down. That's when she felt the small lump underneath her teal long-sleeve. Without hesitation, she pulled the collar of her shirt down. There, right over the spot where her heart lay underneath, we a wound.

 “Oh my God.” Tatiana said out loud. Everyone glanced over at her. Tatiana felt something like shock as she ran her fingers over the deep gash. She felt no pain and it blew her mind. There was a fatal wound in her chest and here she was, standing. Oh God...Oh God... Tatiana reached out behind her and Shawn leapt from his spot against the wall to push a seat underneath her. Tatiana fell back with a thud.

 “What is it?” Isabelle was standing and leaning over her, but Tatiana couldn't even feel her presence. She suddenly felt so hopeless, so alone. If she could, she would have cried. Instead, a keening wail came out of her mouth. Isabelle stiffened with surprise next to her; from the sight of the scar or Tatiana's agonized cry, it couldn't be decided.

 “Tatiana!” Isabelle reached out, then let out a gasp. Her hand, pale and white, felt nothing solid underneath it as it reached out for Tatiana. By that time, the four others had made a sort of circle around the two. They watched, stunned, at the spectacle. Isabelle with her hand out, feeling nothing and Tatiana, wailing, as her hand covered the stab in her heart.

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 The next couple of hours in the small, stuffy room could be only described as unbearable for most. Yet, the six teenagers felt nothing and said nothing as they sat and stood, staring at each other. The horrible realization that had dawned on them hours ago could only have come from the mind, saying the wildest of things, when the six young people only wanted to believe that they were in some sort of hospital and they had all been in accidents, no problem. But the truth stood before them like a boulder in the center of a freeway. No way around it, only to smash headfirst into it.

 "I can't believe this.” Shannon whispered. At some point, a red line had appeared noticeably on her neck. A few moments after its arrival she had lifted her hand and ran her fingers along it, terror in her eyes. The others, with robotic movements, slid their fingers over their bodies. Isabelle stopped at her arm, her index finger covering a small hole. Kyle's hand had discovered a huge gash in his head; Shawn a hole in his stomach. Aaron found nothing until he keeled over and began to cough, water splashing all over the carpet. Tatiana had not budged from the chair.

 “We're dead.” Kyle said, his voice flat and empty.

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 Kyle had been, as a living being, a skeptic about things paranormal. He had always doubted the existence of ghosts or 'spirits', and even as he said those two explosive words, he had a hard time believing it. There really wasn't another explanation for being in a room with five people he had never seen in his life, hardly remembering his name, and having a fatal wound on his head. As he repeated 'we're dead, we're dead' in his mind, things began to become solid, and memories he could not have grasped hours before became real.

 “I had a silver Mustang.” He said, breaking the deathly silence in the room. As if he had blown a whistle, each person began to speak.

 “I snuck out.” Tatiana said, smiling weakly.

 “My step-dad slapped me again.” Shannon murmured.

 “My boyfriend dumped me.” Isabelle said through tears.

 “There wasn't any money left.” Shawn said bitterly.

 “The water was so warm.” Aaron said dreamily.

 After each offered a memory, they stared at each other. It was an unspoken understanding. They were here after death because of unfinished business. Business that needed to move on, so they could, too.

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 Tatiana walked down the aisle of the store, ignoring the bright lights and the happy people swarming around her. Stepping through the door of the room, she had imagined being frightened, but oddly, she had lapsed back into feeling nothing. She also knew without being told where her parents would be. They would be heartbroken at their daughter's premature death, but Tatiana knew how strong her padres were. They would try to forget about the person who had stolen her life, about how she would have have been alive if it hadn't been for her disobedience.
 “These flowers, Roberto.” Tatiana turned her head. Standing beside a large showcase of flowers were her parents. An unexpected stab of pain hit Tatiana in the heart. She swallowed as she took a few steps forward. The last time she would ever approach her parents, the last time she would ever get to see them. The last time she could say, I love you, mama, papa. Good-bye.

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 Shannon sat on her old bed, staring at her walk-in closet. There, she had died. It had come rushing to her the moment she stepped inside her home. Dirty dishes in the sink, a layer of dust on every table. Yelling and crying in every corner, shadows lurking in every dark space. She had lived through that for sixteen years. Oddly, she felt relieved. She could only imagine how it had felt to die, to kill oneself, but she knew that it could never have been as painful as what she had felt in her short life on earth.

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 Shawn stared through the window, dark eyes sad. He could see his mother sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV. Next to her, curled up beneath her arm, was his little sister, Kimberley. He missed them both, and he missed his father, however much he had hated him before. A person couldn't hate another when they were dead. They wouldn't hate him for trying his best to support them, even if what he had done had broken every rule. It didn't matter anymore. Shawn smiled. On the table beside the sofa was a picture of him, smiling as he did now, and pyramid of his favorite candy lying before it. They would remember him.

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 Kyle stood in the barren patch of ice-topped grass, staring up at the gray sky. He didn't want to think about his parents; he had for the first hour of standing in the clearing. On this little plot of land he had bled to death, hanging on for life. He had always been a fighter; the time he had fallen ill with a severe case of the flu he had fought and stubbornly kept breathing. It was some comfort knowing that he had expired with his favorite thing beside him; his Mustang. Without knowing it, in death a person could feel happy.

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 Isabelle laid on her back on the Persian rug, eyes closed. Above her head, a fan oscillated noisily. Downstairs, she heard her older sister on the piano, playing one of her favorite songs, a depressing piece by Bach, or Mozart; Isabelle could never tell. She imagined that Lena was playing it in memory of her. A young girl that had gotten caught up in something she shouldn't have. A something so sinful and so seductive that once a person was caught, they would never be released. Isabelle had thought it was the world, that if it had been taken away, she would die. She worshiped the drug like she worshiped nothing else. And in the end, it had betrayed her.

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 Aaron stood on a smooth rock that jutted out into the lake. He pretended to feel the warm breeze that he had felt the day he had slipped under the water, never to emerge. He had always been a good swimmer; he had no idea what had gone wrong, but it was little consequence now. He had little time left, and he would use that time. He had already said his good-byes to his home, and now he would say good-bye to the place that had witnessed his last moments. In some respects, that place was the most important place.

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 In the beating world, a clock ticked to the beginning of a new hour. It was just another hour for the living and nothing else. Nobody thought of six teenagers that had died on a chilly evening. The teenagers barely ever thought of themselves. They only closed their eyes and let their bodies try to feel the world they no longer belonged in. They all knew that their time would come at some point. They were ready. They had said their farewells to each other, to their loved ones, to the places where they had passed.

 As the minute hand ticked inconspicuously to the living, the six teenagers disappeared, finally and forever at peace.

 The End