The Invisible Life of Hugh

Chapter One

Hugh was the kind of person that settled. He settled with having no friends at school and the teachers not remembering his name despite having taught him for years. He settled with never getting a single text. He settled with the the cashier never giving him the right change and he settled with the barista always forgetting to put two sugars in his coffee. Although he asked. Every time. He settled with the idea that his parents were not concerned with him, other than whether he kept the house clean which he chose not to do out of mere spite. He supposed that was what got him in this mess to begin with. Not cleaning his room.

You see he actually quite liked having his space clean. Which was why he kept what his parents thought was his room messy. In reality it was merely where he kept his clothes and shoes, more like a closet. Just, it was all on the floor. He actually slept in one of the spare rooms on the other side of the house. He preferred to be woken by the morning light than a beeping alarm and the sun rose on this side. 

When he woke the house was as empty as it always was, his parents having never come home the night before. He turned on his radio, IPod already attached, and blasted his music so loud it could probably be heard from the other end of the house. It was one of his favourite freedoms. His parents weren't home to yell at him about the amount of noise he was making and he never needed to worry about the neighbours complaining cause they didn't exist. Well, they did, but not during the winter months they were currently in. The houses on either side of his were holiday homes and he only ever saw his neighbours during the warmer months.

Another freedom he enjoyed was being able to stay in the shower for as long as he wanted. There was no need to save hot water for anyone else cause no one else lived here but him and his parents were never concerned with the water bill. The house was full of their belongings but they were never home long enough to use them. After all, their very important, very time-consuming, and very high income jobs were their life. 

His school was relatively average. His parents had originally enrolled him in a private school when he first began secondary schooling but with a few forged signatures and fake phone calls he'd managed to get himself unenrolled from the private school and enrolled in a more free-thinking public school. His parents hadn't seemed to notice yet, although he's sure once they do they'll regret teaching him their signatures so he'd stop asking them to sign his excursion forms. Despite doing everything in their power to not see him they still expected that he do well in a good school.

He found school boring. He had difficulty connecting with people at his school (they appeared to think he was a snob) which gave him little to think about during hours he wasn't being put to sleep by his teachers. He wasn't bullied either, although sometimes he thinks at least that would have given him something to do with his day, but then he thinks better about it. Who would want to be bullied? No, he was more invisible to his peers. They didn't take any sort of interest in him at all.

Even his teachers took no notice of him. They would forget his name or forget whether he'd handed in this assignment or that project. He's had a few instances were the teachers have actually given him a grade for an assignment that he hadn't done. He'd been trying to get some kind of attention but clearly that was not working.

He'd thought perhaps he could get a part-time job to fill his free time but his parents had put that notion out of his head when he made the mistake of mentioning it during a phone call. He was told he needed to focus on his school work and not worry himself with money cause they had plenty. Mind you, if you're thinking 'oh your parents sound so nice, what do you mean they don't pay attention to you?' this was the first time he had spoken to them in two months and they hadn't called just to talk to him. They'd called because his mum had left an important work document at home and needed him to scan and email it to her.  It was actually pretty typical of them. Needing him for work things more so than for family things.

He thought perhaps that was just what it meant to be an adult. But he also knew that was a lie. Having an adult life meant that you managed to balance work with home and having a social life. Although he couldn't imagine how anyone could manage that properly and still stay sane. There must be way to many things to think about at once when you became an adult. His parents probably shouldn't have had children, they clearly didn't want him. He seemed more like an obligation than a want.

He had these thoughts often but he always made sure to pull him back from them. If his parents had come to the same conclusion that he has before they had him then he wouldn't exist. And as much as he thinks that no one else really cares all that much that he exists, he does. He cares that he exists and he's happy that he exists, even if existing is actually really fucking boring.

He's settling for his existence but he hope that one day he'll be able to grasp his existence in his hands and mould it the way he really wants it to go. But his messy room throws a wrench in that before his hands can even get close.

A/N Okay so I'm just writing this cause I had a spark of inspiration but it's probably not going to get updated all that often so i'm sorry but I promise I'll try.