UNSEEN

I don’t remember exactly when things started to feel off, but I do remember that I stopped questioning it. Weird stuff had always happened to me, so why would now be any different?

A few days go by, and at this point, I’m treating James like a god. Needless to say, the Vyvanse changed my life. For the first time, I actually feel motivated—school, homework, all of it. I even started thinking about improving myself. I started noticing things more, too. Not important things, just small stuff—details most people would ignore.

But there are things I can’t shake. The disappearing student. The guy I saw on the sidewalk yesterday. Something about him wasn’t right. It looked like he was there—but not fully, like you could see through him if you focused hard enough.

I thought about it more than I should have. Still, I didn’t do anything about it. Weird stuff has always happened to me. Why would now be any different?

That question didn’t last long.

The first time I noticed something was really off, I was walking to the gym. Same route, same sidewalks, same houses that all look like they were built at the same time and then forgotten. Even the cracks in the pavement were familiar, like I had stepped over them a hundred times before without thinking.

There was a guy standing across the street. Nothing special at first—just standing there. Then I looked again.

He didn’t move. Not even a little. No shifting, no adjusting—nothing. What stood out to me was how not even the wind had an impact on his clothes. Everything else around him moved slightly—the trees, loose trash on the sidewalk—but he didn’t.

I slowed down.

The longer I looked, the harder it was to actually see him. Not invisible—just… incomplete, like parts of him weren’t fully there, like my eyes didn’t know what to do with him. The more I focused, the less sense he made.

Then someone walked past him. Right through him. Didn’t react. Didn’t even hesitate.

I stopped.

The guy didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t even seem to notice.

I blinked.

He was gone. Maybe a shadow. My imagination’s been getting to me lately.

Just like that.

I stood there for a second longer than I should have, then kept walking, because what else are you supposed to do with something like that? You don’t stop your whole life over something you can’t even explain.

By the time I got to the gym, I had already convinced myself that I imagined it.

I didn’t.

It was after school on a Thursday night, freezing—the kind of cold where the air feels sharp in your throat. I had my puffer on, so it didn’t really matter. I’m used to it. My godfather was still gone, so it was on me to get food. No one was going to do it for me.

The roads were covered in ice, and every step felt like a gamble. It was still daytime, but it didn’t feel like it. The clouds were thick—almost black, like they were blocking something out instead of just covering the sky. Even the sky here looks off sometimes.

Then I saw him.

At first, nothing seemed strange. Just another person near the store. That alone wasn’t unusual. What caught me was what he was wearing—a thin shirt, torn at the sleeve, and shorts. No jacket. No sense. And his clothes weren’t moving, not even with the wind.

I slowed down.

That’s when I noticed it. He wasn’t solid, not fully, like something was missing from him—but I couldn’t tell what.

Just like before.

My pace picked up without me deciding to move faster.

Then the store door opened. A woman came out, pushing a cart stacked too high. One of the wheels wasn’t even touching the ground, dragging behind her and squeaking with every step. She didn’t look up. Didn’t slow down.

She was walking straight toward him, not near him—through him.

“WATCH OUT!” I yelled without thinking.

Too late.

The cart passed through him like he wasn’t even there. No resistance. No reaction. Nothing. She just kept walking like the world still made sense.

Then both of them stopped and looked at me.

My chest tightened. The man turned first, slow—too slow. His face came into view. A deep, jagged scar ran across his cheek. His mouth hung slightly open, no teeth, and his eyes locked onto mine.

There was something in them, not anger, not confusion.

Horror.

The kind you don’t fake. The kind you recognize.

The same kind of look people get right before something bad happens, like they already know how it ends.

And before I could even think, he disappeared.

Gone, like he was never there.

Then I felt it. Something inside me dropped. Not pain, not fear—just wrong, like something in me had stopped working, like a part of me had been pulled somewhere else without asking.

Before I could recover, the ground slipped out from under me.

Thud.

Everything went white for a second.

When I opened my eyes, I was back where I fell, the woman standing over me.

“Are you all right, boy?”

I didn’t answer. I just stared at her, trying to figure out if she was real, if any of this was real. Then I stood and tried to leave.

My foot slid again.

Thud.

This time it felt slower, like everything lagged behind my body, like I was a second behind everything that was happening to me.

Something’s wrong with me.

My vision blurred at the edges. That’s new. That’s not good.

As everything started fading out, I heard her voice again.

“What a weird kid.”

The words stuck longer than they should have. Not the first time I’ve heard that. Probably not the last.

I sat there, caught between something I couldn’t explain and a world that clearly didn’t see it. I don’t know what’s worse—what I just saw, or the fact that I’m the only one who saw it.

Weird stuff has always happened to me. Just not like this.

My mind drifts somewhere else, like it always does when things get bad. It doesn’t help. It never does. I found something new—something I can’t explain, something no one else seems to see—and all it did was make me feel more alone