Prologue
“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty”
-Mother Teresa
___________________________________
I stared at the blank sheet of paper. My inspiration was fleeting as nothing came to mind. I reread the instructions,
“Write about a nice time you spent with your friends. What did you do? Why was it fun? What did it make you feel? Add lots of description and remember to be creative! It could be a story, poem, song, anything as long as it fits the criteria,” I read. Dejectedly, I put my head in my hands. “A nice time with friends…” I mumbled bitterly. The scowl on my face deepened as I gripped my pen so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and attacked the paper with the words of truth:
Good Times With Friends
A poem by Ophelia Johnston
***
To all around me, I am happy.
Joyous.
Blissful.
Jubilant
Satisfied
Popular
Noticed
Until I wake up.
Love. Is that what I crave?
The warm embrace of someone who cares?
The bright smile filled with joy?
If so then why can’t I find it?
Was it made to taunt me?
Self harm. That could help.
Or maybe suicide.
Yet I can’t bring myself to.
Not until that one person’s gone.
To all around me, I am lethargic.
Mournful.
Miserable.
Depressed.
Dejected.
Alone.
Invisible.
And this, I cannot wake up from.
YOU ARE READING
Invisible
Teen FictionWhen you're lost in life, I guess there comes a point where you just have to stop trying because it hurts to much to hold on anymore. When I was younger, crying always seemed to be the answer. Now that I’m older crying seems to be the only option. Y...
