At The End, It Wasn't Worth It.

Have you ever wondered what would happen if, one day, everyone started ignoring you?

Not because they were angry.

Not because you'd done something wrong.

Just... because they stopped noticing you.

Would you laugh it off at first?

Would you blame yourself?

Would you keep trying to get their attention?

I think I would.

At least, that's what I told myself.

You don't need to know my name.

It doesn't matter.

What matters is that I was there.

That morning, the classroom was unusually loud.

Someone was laughing near the windows. Two girls were arguing over a phone. A boy in the back was throwing folded pieces of paper at his friend while pretending to listen to the conversation happening in front of him.

The usual chaos.

I stood in the doorway for a moment.

Nobody looked at me.

I waited.

Still nothing.

"Move."

Someone brushed past my shoulder.

I stepped aside.

He didn't apologise.

I looked after him.

He hadn't even turned around.

Okay.

I walked to my desk.

My bag landed with a quiet thud.

The girl sitting in front of me was showing something on her phone to her friend.

I leaned forward.

"What are you looking at?"

She didn't answer.

I waited for her to laugh or tell me to mind my own business.

Nothing.

I glanced at the screen.

A photograph.

Five girls standing together, smiling at the camera.

I recognised the classroom behind them.

I recognised the girls.

And then I noticed something else.

There was an empty space between two of them.

The exact place where I had been standing yesterday.

I frowned.

"That's weird."

Neither girl reacted.

I sat back down.

Maybe they hadn't heard me.

That was all.

People don't hear everything you say.

The teacher arrived a few minutes later.

Everyone hurried to their seats.

Books opened.

Conversations died.

I opened mine too.

"Good morning, ma'am."

The class replied together.

I did as well.

Our teacher looked around the room.

For half a second, her eyes passed over me.

I smiled.

She looked away.

"Take out your homework."

I placed my notebook on the edge of the desk.

She began walking down the rows.

One notebook.

Then another.

Then another.

She stopped beside the student behind me.

"Where's your homework?"

He started making excuses.

I almost laughed.

She always hated excuses.

I raised my hand.

"Ma'am."

She continued talking to him.

"Ma'am?"

Nothing.

I lowered my hand.

A few minutes later, I tried again.

"Ma'am, I finished it."

She didn't look at me.

Something cold moved through my stomach.

I looked around.

Everyone was writing.

Nobody seemed to notice.

I turned toward the girl beside me.

"Did you hear me?"

She kept writing.

I tapped her desk.

Once.

Twice.

Nothing.

I stopped.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

Not actually quiet.

It was still full of voices and scratching pens and the ceiling fan rattling overhead.

But somehow, I felt alone in the middle of all of it.

I looked at my hands.

They were there.

My sleeves.

My notebook.

My pen.

Everything was normal.

So why did it feel like I was the only person who didn't belong in the room?

During lunch, the girls near the window decided to take a picture.

"Come on, everyone!"

They crowded together.

I stood up.

"Wait."

Nobody moved.

I walked over.

There was enough space.

I squeezed myself between two girls.

"Okay. Take it."

The phone was raised.

Everyone smiled.

The camera flashed.

"Let me see!"

They gathered around the screen.

I did too.

I looked at the photograph.

My stomach dropped.

I wasn't in it.

Not blurred.

Not hidden.

Not cut off at the edge.

I simply wasn't there.

The two girls I had been standing between were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder.

There was no space between them.

I stared at the picture.

"Take another one."

One of them laughed.

I looked at her.

She wasn't looking at me.

She was already fixing her hair.

"Another one," I repeated.

Nobody answered.

I stepped back.

For the first time that day, I felt frightened.

Not enough to panic.

Just enough to notice that my hands had started shaking.

I looked toward the classroom window.

The glass reflected the room.

Desks.

Chairs.

The girls.

The sunlight.

I stared at it.

There I was.

I could see myself.

I exhaled.

A ridiculous amount of relief washed over me.

"See?"

I whispered.

I lifted my hand.

The girl in the reflection lifted hers.

I smiled.

She smiled back.

Everything was fine.

Everything had to be fine.

Then someone walked behind me.

I turned.

A girl was crossing the classroom.

She passed directly between me and the window.

For a second, her reflection disappeared.

Then she moved away.

It returned.

I looked at my reflection again.

Still there.

I almost laughed.

You're imagining things.

That was the easiest explanation.

So I accepted it.

The final bell rang at four.

Everyone rushed out.

I stayed behind to finish a page of notes.

The classroom emptied slowly.

Then completely.

I closed my notebook.

As I stood, I noticed something on the teacher's desk.

The attendance register was open.

I shouldn't have looked.

I did anyway.

Names.

Tick marks.

Dates.

I ran my finger down the list.

There was a mark beside every name.

Except mine.

Beside my name was a single word.

Absent.

I stared at it.

I checked the date.

Today's date.

My throat tightened.

I looked toward the door.

Then back at the register.

Maybe the teacher had made a mistake.

That was possible.

Of course it was.

I closed the register.

I put my bag over my shoulder.

And walked out.

The corridor was empty.

The late afternoon sun stretched across the floor.

I walked toward the stairs.

My footsteps echoed.

Then I heard another set behind me.

I stopped.

The footsteps stopped.

I turned.

Nobody.

I waited.

Nothing.

I smiled nervously.

"Very funny."

Silence.

I started walking again.

One step.

Two.

Three.

The footsteps followed.

I stopped.

Again.

Silence.

My smile disappeared.

I looked down.

The sunlight fell across the corridor.

There were shadows everywhere.

The railing had one.

The staircase had one.

The plants beside the window had thin, trembling shadows.

I looked at the floor beneath my feet.

I couldn't see mine.

I moved closer to the sunlight.

Nothing.

I stepped back.

Nothing.

My heart began beating faster.

I lifted my hand.

I looked at the wall.

Nothing.

For a few seconds, I couldn't move.

Then I told myself what I had told myself all day.

There is an explanation.

There always was.

I picked up my bag more tightly and walked home.

I didn't look back.

But somewhere behind me, from the empty corridor, I heard footsteps continue down the stairs.

One.

Two.

Three.

As if someone was following me.

As if someone was leaving with me.

I reached the bottom of the stairs.

I stopped.

A voice came from somewhere behind me.

Very quietly.

Almost too quietly to understand.

It said my name.

I turned.

There was nobody there.

I stood there for a long time, listening to the silence.

Then, from somewhere behind me, my name was whispered again.