Her name was Taylor, and she was invisible.
Not invisible in the mundane dance-in-front-of-your-grandma-naked-without-her-batting-an-eyelid sense. If she did try that, she would almost certainly be noticed. Her invisibilty only stretched to the ordinary.
She had brown hair. Not an interesting shade, like mocha or chestnut or Maple Sunset straight out of the bottle. It was just brown, flat brown, without highlight or sheen.
Her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so, a testament to long hours spent hiding from the world. She was thin, but not the flesh-covered-skeleton thin of a model. She wore the same blue and white uniform as everyone else, but on her it seemed paler, almost translucent.
At roll call, her name was often overlooked. When teachers selected victims for tricky maths questions, she was never asked. She had no enemies.
She had no friends.
She never excelled in anything. Her grades were always consistently average in everything from maths to science. Her name was never called out at assemblies for awards or prizes.
The only thing she was good at was being invisible.
She dreamed of being a Someone. Of making her mark on the world. But in her heart, she knew the truth.
They were only dreams, and when she woke she was still invisible.
This story is dedicated to Tess, Kelly and Kahlia, who are everything Taylor isn't. Thanks for putting up with my constant hollers of 'Read this, read this, READ THIS!'. A writer couldn't ask for better friends.
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