The doctors thought his mother had given birth to a ghost. The hospital was in a mad panic. “What the hell do you mean you can’t see him?” his father muttered. For the first time in history, a boy had been born invisible.
The boy was like one of those superheroes he read about admiringly in his older brother’s comic books. Swooping underneath his brother’s bed, afraid he might be seen, which later in life he thought to be a foolish fear, he would read the comics in the lonely, dark safety. Rummaging through the pages, he would dream of people admiring him, just like the people he’s reading about. Before he could turn to the next page, his older brother dragged the comic book (with the boy attached) out from under the bed, and proceeded to kick the seemingly empty space of air, yelling, “Stay out of my room!” The boy would wake up the next morning with unseen bruises all over.
The boy would roam the halls of high school, leaving only the traces of the nervous cracking of his knuckles. He would do this when he was uncomfortable. It was the day before prom. He bought a bouquet of roses, and 3 huge balloons for his soon-to-be date. He could see her beautiful golden hair shining in the sunlight. He cleared his throat, and began to ask the horrifying question. When she recognized what the boy was about to do, she scurried away from the six-foot-tall mass of thin air, whose roses fell to the ground, without a sound.
The boy never went to college. It would be a pretty hard task for someone who would be marked absent from every class he attended. His father and mother were forced to kick him out on the streets, since the government would not believe they had a child. No tax break for them.
If you ever wonder what the invisible man is doing now, he is not hard to miss actually. He is stationed on the corner of 45th and 7th, smack dab in the heart of Times Square, holding with dirty hands a sign that reads: “WILL WORK FOR FOOD.”