My Invisibility Cloak

Invisible. That's the first word that springs to mind. The invisible blue coat. The invisible figure, who's shadow is completely clouded with deceitful mist. The most unseen, undescribable and unknown, lost, invisible- me. My hands trembled; the icy, November breeze pulling the fragments of warmth from them. It was home time, one of the parts of the day I loathed. Most kids would walk with their friends, even brothers or sisters. I did neither. Only my phone offered me company. Of course if I was lucky, I could find someone to catch up with, but it was obvious they didn't want me. That they would rather carry on their silly conversations about what colour to dye their hair next, or what expensive Christmas presents they wanted. But I wouldn't object, all I needed was not to look like a complete nutter. I suppose I am one. And what was there to change?

At 14, you would be surprised how many girls stand next to each wall in our school, or sitting in their own 'private corner' with their boyfriends- snogging. It was disgusting. But then I guess those girls didn't just plaster on make up, and dress like sluts; let alone them actually being sluts. They had confidence. And that's what I lack. That's why I'm invisible. That's why I can never look at myself in the mirror and smile. That's why I'm me. Whenever a test paper was getting handed back, all I could see was a line of F's. Or when a bunch of girls laugh as I walk past,
all I can think of is that they are laughing at me, when maybe it was just a coincidence. All I ever for wished was for confidence. And I didn't want an IPhone 5, or an outrageously high priced hollister jacket, I didn't care about having a hot boyfriend; I didn't even want any boyfriend. The only thing that would go on my Christmas wish list was: to not be invisible.