The world needs more love at first sight."
― Maggie Stiefvater

()()()

Zanna.

  "Who are you?" I asked angrily. What was this perverted stranger doing, standing in my room, looking inside my underwear drawer? He obviously was a horny son of a bitch, if he was looking inside my underwear drawer.

  For a moment, I bowed my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. If there was something I wouldn't have ever expected to see in my lifetime, it'd have be this.

  I sighed and looked at him.

  The guy didn't answer my question.

  He stood there speechless like a dumb caricature; clutching my black bra tightly in his right hand. Was my mom home? He didn't break and enter, I knew he didn't, telling from the jovial voices I heard outside my bedroom door. I could tell he was welcomed into this home but not by me, "obviously". I wouldn't have invited a stranger inside here in the first place, much less a perverted one.

  Though glancing at the stranger, I could see he was around my age. He looked like he played sports. He was tall and handsome (to my disliking). But that wasn't all, I didn't know who this guy was. He looked a little familiar as if I'd seen him somewhere, and if I had, I surely didn't remember ever having relations with him to the point where he could come into my bedroom, and glance at my underwear.

  Did my... Mom? Yeah, my mom. Did she let him in here? Not inside my room, but into this house.

  "I'm Blayze," the guy—Blayze—said after what seemed to have been an eternity of awkward silence.

  "You obviously were let into this house, but you have no right to be in my room." I said matter-of-factly.

  He glanced at the door then back to me. "You're right," he mumbled. I watched as he put my bra back into the drawer and closed it. He started to leave the room, but not before he turned around and gave me a strange look. "Who are you by the way... I thought you were in... a coma?"

  How spiteful, I thought. He wish I were dead.

  "I'm..." I began. "I'm..."

  It was weird, because I didn't know who I was.

  My name, what's my freaking name!

  All I knew, was this was my bedroom in my house. I lived with my mom... I think. I didn't even remember what she looked like for Pete's sake.

  Did she look like me?

  In that case, what did I look like?

  Blayze was giving me an odd look. "Do you even know your name?" he asked.

  I stood still. "That's not important," I said, and pointed directly to the door behind me. "You need to leave my room."

  "I get it," he said, a sly smile dripping from his lips. "You don't know your name."

  He hasn't got me yet. Like I had to prove anything to him. "I know my name... You j-just need to leave, or I'm gonna call my mom in here."

  "Ooh, I'm scared," he joked but did as he was told.

  Why did my mom let this son of bitch into our home? I followed him out into the hallway and I was gonna say more to him, but held my tongue until we got to the living room.

  That was when I realized something strange.

  The two middle-aged women sitting on the couch didn't look familiar at all; one looked to be a redhead with pale skin, while the other one was olive toned and had blond hair. Which one was my mom? I wanted to tell my mom how much of a perve this Blayze guy was, but how could I when I didn't even know what she looked like. Alongside that, I noticed that my presence was being dully noted.

  Not that I loved attention and would do anything to get it, however you'd think someone would notice a teenage boy and girl emerging from the same place. And would say something about it.

  "Hello?" I said, trying to interrupt their current conversation, so they could at least acknowledge me.

  Neither of the woman looked at me; their attention directly on Blayze—who I think was beginning to sense something strange too, because he kept glancing back and forth between me and the two women.

  "Thank you for the card," said the redhead. She seemed the most familiar compared to everyone else. However her appearance startled me. She looked drawn out and fatigued, as if something was really bringing her down. She was wearing a dark green sweat suit, and her eyes, green, looked dreary. The rosiness on her cheeks were the only indicator that she was currently enjoying herself.

Then there was the other woman with the blond hair, whom smiled softly back at the redhead, who now that I noticed Blayze kind of resembled appearance-wise; same strong cheekbones, and soft hazel colored eyes. I figured she was Blayze's mother.

  The redheaded woman must've been my mom since Blayze resembled the other one so much, and I couldn't deny that the woman with the red hair seemed familiar. Her familiarity was stronger than Blayze's. I wasn't sure if I resembled her in anyway, since I didn't even know what I looked like for that matter.

  Closing my eyes for just a mere second, a memory flashed before my eyes.

  I see the redheaded woman staring down at me, her eyes are filled with joy and she's holding me, softly cooing to me. Saying that she'll never let me go.

  The memory faded once the revelation flickered in my brain.

  She was my mother. Why can't she see me?

  Like I said before, my mom looked bedraggled as if she hadn't slept a wink. Why so? There were dark circles under her eyes. What kind of sleep has she been getting lately? Maybe this all had to do with her working too much.

  "Mom," Blayze said trying to get his mother's attention. He was glancing at me warily from time to time, confusion written all over his face. His mom ignored him as she continued listening to what the redhead woma—I mean my mom had to say.

  "The card was a reminder," said my mom, holding on tightly to what looked to be a card in her hand. The card's cover was a pale purple with white doves on it. "This card reminds me, that I need to be optimistic through this, I need to keep hoping, and praying. It's just—it's just..."

  "We know," finished Blayze's mom. She laid a comforting hand on my mom's arm. What was my mom getting so emotional over? What does she need to stay optimistic through? It almost seemed as if a tragedy has happ—

  "What's wrong Blayze?" Blayze's mom questioned, noticing for the first time, the perplexed expression on her son's face.

  He glanced at me before turning his attention onto his mom. He shook his head. "Nothing."

  "Say something, Blayze," I pushed. He shook his head. "They won't believe me," he said giving me a look. You're just not trying, I thought. I glared at him and crossed my arms.

"Blayze, honey, who're you talking to?"

  I covered my mouth out of instinct. I didn't think she could hear me, but the anxiety coursing through my bones had made me cover my mouth as if I'd spoken out of term or something.

  Blayze flushed and scratched the back of his neck. "Eh..." He was doing that thing again; the glancing back and forth between me and his mom.

  Which I was pretty sure in reality, he was glancing back and forth between an empty space near the coffee table (that held no existence), and his wary looking mother.

  "Uh," he said, pointing his thumb towards the front door. "I'm gonna go take a walk."

  His mom looked like she wanted to say more, but left it at that.

  I glanced at my mom who seemed a bit bewildered by Blayze's behavior. "Teens these days," she said.

  Blayze's mom smiled and held up a glass of water. "Yep."

  I followed Blayze out the door. He was walking down the path towards the lake, hence the fact we passed a small brown wooden sign that read: Hanson Lake. What's he thinking now that he realized that both our moms can't see me? I didn't know what to think of it either.

  The sun was hiding behind the white puffy clouds, and I couldn't really feel the temperature outside for some odd reason, even when I'd been inside the house I couldn't remember feeling the temp. It seemed like it was a bit warm out here telling from the way everything looked outside. But I felt nothing. Nothing but a sort of warmth that settled deep inside my tummy. The feeling was foreign, yet I founded the feeling comforting.

  What was up with me?

  I felt as if I had been gone for the longest time, and missed out on a lot of vital-important things during my departure. That was why I was sort of out-of-it and confused. What had I been doing before I'd entered my bedroom to catch a teenage boy named Blayze looking at my underwear? I didn't know. Somehow I was here, but at the same time, I wasn't.

  I figured I was going to ask Blayze these questions once we made it to Hanson Lake. Now that I remembered, Hanson Lake was one of our town's (Andersville was what this town was called, right?) lake that were reserved for swimming only. The lake was smaller than Johnson Lake—which was located on the other side of town, and was a hotspot for local fishers and anglers alike.

Besides, It only made sense if they reserved Hanson Lake as a swimming hole, since Hanson Lake resided near a suburban neighborhood, making it a nice place in the summertime for the whole neighborhood to go-to to swim, and a nice hang out spot.

  When we reached the lake, Blayze sat on a huge nearby rock while I chose to sit on the sand. I still couldn't feel anything, really. I attempted to feel the soft-texture of the sand between my toes, and I even attempted to clutch the sand between my fingers. But it was... No use. It was normal for the sand to always end up slipping through your fingers. But this was weird. The sand didn't slip right through my fingers. The sand went straight through the palms of my hands, and the sand I was feeling with my toes, I wasn't feeling at all.

  I was confused.

  "What th—?"

  Blayze not looking at me said, "She's only a figment of my imagination. She isn't real, not at all..." He kept saying those words to himself as I struggled with touching and feeling things. I then saw that I wasn't really sitting on the sand, it was more of an illusion.

  I was levitating.

  When I'd followed Blayze out the house—I hadn't realized it then, but I'd phased through the door.

  I hadn't opened the door at all.

  Even when I stood up, my feet gave off this notion that I was standing on the sand., but I was only levitating—little space between my feet and the ground. This was weird. I felt as if I were a superhero finding out their power for the first time.

  What's happening to me?

  I looked at Blayze who kept on shaking his head and muttering things.

  I went on over to him and "kind of" sat on the big rock he was occupying. "Blayze," I said.

  "She's not real, she's just a figment of your imagination..." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, if I could see him that meant he could still see me. I wanted to pat him on his arm to snap him out of it, but I realized that'd be no use. So I just sat there and watched him make a fool out of himself.

  (10 minutes later)

  "She's not real, she's just a figment of your imagination..."

  I was "sitting" with my hand under my chin. "Are you done?" I asked.

  He glanced at me for about second, until he returned to staring out at the lake in front of him.

  He continued muttering. "She's not real, she's just a figment of your imagination..."

  I sighed. "Okay," I said, trying to be calm. "Blayze, listen here."

  He continued to ignore me, rocking back and forth, staring out at the horizon of the lake, saying the same things over and over again like he was in a sort of daze. "She's not real, she's just a figment of your imagination..."

  His denial merely gave me more time to think. I'm not invisible to those around me, am I? I'm pretty visible. I was visible to Blayze who at the moment, didn't seem to believe my existence. This whole situation, like I've been saying, was peculiar.

  What if I'm dreaming?

  If I were dreaming, I never had a dream this vivid and so long in my life.

  "I'm done," Blayze finally said, he was staring at me now. "You're not real, so stop talking to me."

  I laughed. Like he's going to tell me what to do. "I'm here, Blayze," I said spreading my arms out. "I'm here and I'm gonna stay here and I'm not gonna shut up."

  He gave me an annoyed glance.

  "Yes you are,"

  "No I'm not,"

  "Yes you are,"

  "No I'm not."

  "Ye—why do you have to be so annoying."

  I smiled at him. What else you got?

  He didn't saying anything.

  We sat in silence for what seemed to be for a minute.

  He broke it.

  "Fine, I'm gonna show you something," he said getting off the rock. I did the same and followed him.

()()()

  Me and Blayze were at what looked to be a hospital. He went straight in, no need to check-in because as I found out, his dad happened to be a surgeon. I kept probing him to tell me what was going on, but to no avail. He just ignored me, and for some reason the impact of his ignorance didn't affect me as much as I thought it would.

  The feelings of being ignored were the only thing so far, that really seemed familiar.

  Entering another part of the hospital we were met with a sign that read: Intensive Care Unit. Something about what Blayze was going to show me, gave me an uneasy feeling. Why a hospital? Didn't intensive mean critical? I gulped nervously. I couldn't think of any reason why he'd be bringing me to a hospital.

  I was certain that I didn't have anyone I knew in here.

  What could he be showing me?

  "Hey Jessica!" Blayze greeted a woman at a desk. She was wearing a maroon colored nurses outfit, and her brown hair was put up in a bun. "Hello Blayze," she greeted with a toothy smile, "you need me to get your father for you? I think he's already out of surgery." She then began flipping through what looked to be some sort of schedule/log book.

  He shook his head. "Nah, but I saw Fei exit here, crying."

  I furrowed my eyebrows. Now that I thought about it, along the way, I had seen an Asian girl leave here crying.

  Jessica frowned and got up from her seat. "Chaz and her broke up again," she stated with a sigh, "um if anyone asks me where I am, just tell them I'm consoling a patient. I'll be back in a sec."

  So professional.

  Blayze nodded and watched as Jessica left. After she was out of sight, he quickly took the log book and glanced through it, searching for something.

  It only took a quick second before he founded what he was looking for. "Yes," he whispered. Setting the book down he went through the nearby double doors. We were now making our way down a hallway. The further down we went, the more people I saw in these rooms who were hooked up to these big machines, with lots of tubes running through them.

  The sight alarmed and saddened me.

  A part of me, knew these people were in critical condition and another part of me knew that some of these people had a slim chance of ever waking up.

  That realization, made me stop looking at the rooms we passed and had me put my attention back onto following Blayze. Although he was walking, his long legs were the reason why my short ones couldn't keep up with him (levitation couldn't even help me catch up).

  He needs to slow down, I thought.

  Finally we stopped at a door.

  I felt the urge to phase through the door, to see what he was trying to show me.

  But he opened the door before I attempted.

  Like the people I passed coming here, this person here was hooked up to a machine.

  I didn't wanna go near the person.

  That uneasy feeling was starting to take over me again.

  "Go," coaxed Blayze.

  I shook my head. I couldn't. I can't. I wanted to stay where I was.

  "Go,"

  I shook my head. "No," I said.

  He attempted to grab my arm to pull me over there, and when he did just that, his hand phased through my arm. He backed off. "What the fuck?!" he shrieked, clutching his hand. I would've laughed, but that was when I started slowly inching towards the body.

  When I finally reached the body, I had no words. The sleeping person was a teenage girl. Her body was wrapped in a couple bandages but not a lot to the point where she was indeciprable. She looked hurt. However the beeping monitor was enough to tell me, that this girl wasn't in good condition.

  She looked tiny with all those tubes around her.

  "Why are you showing me this?" I questioned Blayze. He came from behind me and glanced at the body back to me.

  He sighed. "Because this is you."

  I paled. What does he mean 'this is you'? I gave him an incredulous look, what was he talking about? "What do yo mea—"

  I stopped myself. I knew exactly what he meant. This person laying in the hospital bed was me. This person laying in this bed with all these bandages and tubes was me. Before Blayze could say anything else, I juncture through the wall out into the hallway and began going through different rooms.

  I needed to find a bathroom. I needed to find a mirror so I could give myself a good look.

  That person wasn't me. I was here, alive and well for everyone to see... See? Nobody was seeing me, and the only person who could see me, wasn't hearing me. I wanted to scream. I wasn't in the hospital. I was alive and healthy.

  I ended up finding a bathroom, and I took a good long glance at myself myself in the mirror. I froze. My hair was a strawberry blond and my skin was pale. I looked exactly like that girl in the hospital bed.

  That girl in the hospital bed was me.

  I didn't get it. How could I be in the hospital bed right now when I was standing here, at this moment, looking at myself in the mirror?

  Am I dead?

  No, if I were I dead I probably wouldn't be here right now. Then am I a ghost? But ghosts were dead. I was still hanging on, though. I didn't get it. Am I alive and dead at the same time? What happened to me that made me end up in that hospital bed? I needed to question Blayze on that.

  I could see now, why my mom had looked so depressed and fatigued back at the house. It was because of the fact that I was in the hospital barely holding on.

  I needed to go back to Blayze. I had a lot of questions to ask him.

()()()

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry if the hospital stuff might seem a bit off. I tried. If you happen to know what happens to a person after they've been involved in an accident, such as being hit by a car. Please don't fail to knowledge me on that. I'm open to fixing that.

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