THE INVISIBLE

It is said that the meek shall inherit the earth, but, let’s be honest, pretty quickly after they do, someone will come along and swindle them out of it. 

The Meek are a strange group of people who live in the shadows of others, watching from a safe distance before shuffling off to their dwellings to mull over their fate in life, their numbers are unknown as no one has ever really cared to look into it.

I met a meek person once, a while back, she called herself `One of the unseen`, one of the invisible, I was going to ask her if she could see other meek, other invisible people, but I forgot and walked away, and it wasn’t until later that I realised but by then she had gone.

I started an experiment to study them, to keep track of them as I tried to understand their habits and lifestyles. I found that `The Invisible` tend to live in a state of almost poverty, shunning their materialistic needs, for a more simpler lifestyle, they avoid gatherings and parties, so live well on their own without the need of others company. 

As an experiment, I gave up a lot of my social comforts; I reduced myself down to a smaller existence and started to avoid the eye contact of others. Initially, people tried to talk to me, to check and see what was wrong, but after a day or two they left me to it with only a small few of my friends who tried to maintain some form of contact, but even they eventually left me.

I have to say, for the first few weeks I felt so isolated, so alone that my life turned dark and soulless which surprised me, in a city of half a million it is amazing how alone you can feel, how insular you become.

After a month, and my experiment completed and I tried to return to my normal way of life I found my path removed, I tried to talk to my friends but my voice was weak and they walked by without acknowledging me, so, after a day I returned to my existence.

It seems that once you turn invisible, it is very difficult to break free, to gain the strength to pull yourself out of the reality you have created round yourself.

So, now I write this down in the hope that someone will read it, someone will take the time to understand my predicament and help me.

I don’t want to be invisible anymore.

Please help.

THE INTERVIEW

“I don’t wanna go. Please don’t make me go.” Keith begged. “You know I hate them. They look at me like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

            “Lets not go through this again, dear.” Lynn shook her head at her husband. “It’s an interview, that’s all. You’ve had loads now.”

            “I know.” Keith looked at himself in the mirror, his tie didn’t match the shirt he’d picked out, and the collar had been starched too much. “I just worry about the questions they’re going to ask. I look a right idiot when I can’t answer them properly.” He pulled his tie free again and marched back into the bedroom.

            “You should write down their questions then, so you can learn for next time. You’re not going to get any better unless you try.” She walked to the door. “Put the blue tie on, love. The one Deidre bought you for Christmas, that’s a nice one.”

            “I can’t wear that one. It’s got a stain on it from when we had dinner with Sally and Michael last month. I told you about it at the time.”

            “Well, I don’t remember. It won’t come out now though; you might as well just throw that one away then. Try the black one.”

            “Black one is for funerals. It looks wrong at an interview, sets the wrong ambiance with them.”

            “What else do you have then?” She could hear him moaning from inside the room. “Are you decent? I’m coming in.”

            Keith was sat on the bed, his shirt un-tucked around his waste as he held the two ties in his hands. The first was a comical one someone had bought him a few years ago, not at all appropriate, the other black, as Keith called it, funeral tie in the other.

            “Wear the black one with the dark blue shirt, that should look okay.”

            “Do I have to go. I really don’t feel up to it. I think I might be coming down with something.”

            “Keith Michael Brown, don’t you dare do this to me. You are not sick, just nervous, you know you have to go.”

            “Why though?”

            “Because you’re the bloody Boss.”

THE SPOT.

The day had started normally enough. Liam had risen from his bed as usual, and dressed in his normal way, eaten his usual breakfast and combed his hair in the usual manner. The route to work was the same as always and the day itself had been perfectly normal until Lunch time and it was then that the un-normal thing happened.

            Liam had just sat down at his usual table and opened his pack of spam and pickle sandwiches when he’d felt the pain in his stomach. Not a deep pain that led to an operation, but a sharp pointed pain that made him wonder what was different. He didn’t like different, he was a normal sort of guy. He bought the same things each week when he went shopping, he wore the same practical clothes each day, he even socialised with the same group of people he’d met in the Dungeons and Dragons group at university, and that had been twelve years ago now. No. Liam liked normal, but this pain was anything but.

            He’d made his way to the toilet to check. Feeling the slight thrill of going there two and an half minutes before he normally did. Sliding into the cubical he unfastened his belt and lowered his normal trousers and gasped as he saw it.

            The spot certainly wasn’t usual. He’d never had a spot on his stomach before and he didn’t like it. He could feel his breathing increasing as he looked at it, panic was starting to set in and he hastily covered it with tissue and pulled his trousers back up, forcing under the material.

            The day was, from this point ruined. The usual coffee tasted different, the usual journey home seemed to take forever and he breathed a heavy sign of relief as he closed his normal door on the odd day outside.

            There was only one thing for him to do. The logic was clear enough, he had to get back to being normal, and that would mean removing the spot.

            He went into the bedroom and undressed, carefully folding his clothes in the usual way. The spot seemed to be laughing at him, getting larger as he shakily removed the tissue and he felt dizzy at the sight before him and he rested back on the bed while he composed himself.

            Once he’d reached his usual Zen state Liam placed his fingers at either side and squeezed, grunting as the pressure built as the yellow head expanded. In hind sight he should have stopped after a minute or two, or at least when the head was six inches wide. But he usually didn’t stop until it popped when he had one on his face.

            After five minutes the head was starting to ooze a little, droplets of juice fell onto his legs below, but as he’d never had a spot on his stomach before he had no basis to set normal to. For all he knew, all stomach spots acted this way and he felt reassured at the thought of normality.

            After ten minutes his fingers started to really hurt and he stopped squeezing, leaving the now large, swollen head before him and he’d phoned Josh to seek advise. Josh was the oddest of his friends. Josh met with other people and went out to different places to experience different things. He’d know what to do Liam reasoned.

            The idea of lancing the spot was a new one to him, but if Josh said it would work, and what Josh said was usually right, then who was he to argue. With his usual pleasant manner he thanked Josh and told him he would see him at the usual time tomorrow.

            It wasn’t easy getting the pin. Josh had told him to heat it up before applying the lance to the said spot, but the head itself started to get in the way and it took him three goes to pick up the pin. With shaking fingers he pressed the now red hot pin an inch from the head before he pressed down.

            Just before he drowned under the copious amount of pus and ooze that washed over him, he made a mental note to question someone else if this ever happened again, or at least to mention the size of the spot.

THE MOJAVE

At this time of night there was hardly anyone else on the road, and he actually found himself started to enjoy the drive. The cold night breeze that blew from the desert was in total contrast to the sweltering heat of the day that he’d driven through, and he ran his fingers through his hair to cool his head.

          The last rays of sunlight caught the mountains on the horizon, casting a deep red glow over the few wisps of cloud that had started to form. The desert drive was certainly the longest stretch of his journey so far. He had heard stories about the Mojave Desert, but until you actually drove it, you didn’t appreciate its size or its heat.

          He’d driven along the highway for the past fourteen hours. Stopping only once for gas, and to grab some lunch. He could feel the strain of the constant motion starting to affect him. His left buttock had been numb for about an hour now, and no matter how he moved it, it wouldn’t wake up. He worried how much more of him would follow before he found somewhere to stop for the night.

          He pulled his last joint from the glove box and lit it, holding the thick smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling happily out of the window. He knew it was dangerous to smoke one when he was driving, but he needed something to stimulate him.

          Time for the radio, he thought as he switched it on. He prayed for something loud, something with a good beat that would keep him awake. Hell he thought, even the gospel channel would do if the preacher shouted loud enough.

          Although the light came on behind the display he couldn’t get a clear signal on any of the buttons. Obviously something he should have checked before he bought the car. Leaning forward again he tried to tune it manually but only managed to fill the car with a garbled static, and he punched it angrily.

          He felt the car swerve as it ran off the road and he grabbed the wheel with both hands. His joint dropping from his mouth into the foot well as tried to regain control. Turning the wheel too quickly in the wrong direction he span out. Dust and sand spat up as he skidded round, finally coming to rest facing the wrong way.

          He rested his head against the steering wheel, the adrenaline coursing through him as he realised how close he’d come to flipping over. With shaking hands he reached down for his smoke before opening the door and climbing out.

          Now he’d stopped, he realised how noisy the desert nights actually were. The sound of crickets and other insects suddenly filled his ears, almost deafening him as they laughed at him.

“Shut up!” he screamed “Just shut up”. He kicked the car angrily and his foot denting the wing of the Cadillac. As his tantrum took over he lashed out again. Screaming and ranting until finally exhausted, he sat down at the side of the road.

          He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there for as he tried to control the anger that boiled inside him. Time didn’t seem to move as quickly out here as it did in the big city, but as the clouds rumbled over head, and he realised he needed to get inside before it started to rain.

          A quick check of the car revealed no immediate problems after the crash. Other than the wing he’d dented, the only other bit of visible damage was where he’d collided with something at the side of the road. He could see what looked like a sign still jammed under his fender.

          He grabbed the wood and pulled, most of it remained under the car but the base broke free at last and he dragged it out. The main part of the sign with the name remained under his wheel arch. `Rooms available`

          It sounded like just what he needed. A good night’s sleep would give him some well needed rest, and help to replenish his energy banks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a bed. He’d been on the road for so long now his previous life seemed such a long time ago.

          He spotted a building on the horizon, and he realised he’d must have crashed on the lane leading up to it. Tossing the sign into the darkness, he smiled at his good fortune at spinning off the road here. Any further along and he would have missed this place for sure.

          It wasn’t a long drive, maybe a minute or two at most before he could see the Hotel properly. It looked old, but serviceable, and the car park looked busy despite it’s off the track location. He pulled in near the entrance and just hoped they had some coffee brewing.

          His muscles started to ache as he pulled on the handbrake. A shower before bed he thought to himself, it sounded about as much as he could manage, and he wearily stumbled from the car up to the door of the hotel.

“Evening handsome.” a woman said as she stepped from the shadows. She held an old oil lantern in her hand and it cast a soft welcoming glow into the night. “You’re arriving late aren’t you?”

“It’s been a long day lady” he replied curtly. “Sorry,” he apologised, forcing a smile. She looked descent enough, and she had a worn down elegance that hinted at old money. Her black hair dropped to her smooth shoulders and her red evening dress dropped to the floor, dragging the dirt as she walked over to him.

“My names Sable” she smiled, holding her hand out to him as she put the cigarette holder in her mouth.

“John.” he replied as he shook her hand politely. “You don’t have a spare one of those do you?” he nodded to her cigarette.

“Sorry” she shook her head apologetically. “I only popped out for a quick one when I heard the thunder.” she looked over to the horizon “I’ve got more inside though.” she smiled suggestively. He could hear a clock chiming from inside and he suddenly realised how late it was.

“Thanks. But I guess I need to book in first” he felt concerned that they would stop taking guests. Sable quickly finished her smoke and trod the end under her black high heel. “So, John.” she linked her arm around his “What brings such a handsome man out here at such an hour, are you meeting someone?”

          He pushed the door open, and they walked in together. He didn’t know who this woman was, but he certainly liked her style. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her voice didn’t seem to have any accent he recognised and he presumed she was European, but that wasn’t the answer to the mystery.

          She was certainly beautiful, full of an elegance and style from a past time. Her dress hugged her slender figure, and he found himself watching her as she walked before him. With no visible panty line, she was either very innocent, or very naughty, and he hoped it was the latter and wondered what it would cost him.

          The hotel manager smiled and welcomed him with an obviously well rehearsed greeting, and he let the corporate spiel wash over him without really listening. They all sounded the same anyway, and he was too engrossed with Sable to really bother too much. The manager finally pushed the registration card over to him and handed him a pen.

“How long do you wish to stay, sir?” his voice sounded rough. The sort of voice you got after too many years smoking cheap cigarettes.

“Just the night I think” John tried to be polite. “I’ll be setting off early in the morning”

“Very good, sir.” He took the registration card back without looking at it “We have plenty of rooms on offer, at one standard price. We are not that busy, sir” he added as an after thought as he saw Johns expression “So we relax the prices” he explained.

“Oh! I thought with all the cars at the front…”

“No, sir. Most of those don’t work. Relics from the previous owners” he smiled “We just keep them there to add ambiance. So which room sir?”

“Any” he shrugged “Why don’t you just choose one for me”

“Can you give him the room next to mine?” Sable asked.

“Yes miss Sable.” He nodded “That’s not a problem at all” he handed over a set of keys. “The restaurant is still open sir” he suggested as they walked away. “If you require anything to eat that is. The cost is included in the price of your room already.”

          The thought of warm food made his stomach rumble loudly. Now he was off the main road, he started to feel better. Maybe something to eat would be good, at least he should be able to get a coffee. Sable started to gently pull him towards the restaurant, and he didn’t feel like resisting too much as she led the way.

          She smelt wonderful. A soft, but captivating perfume that reminded him of his grandmother. One of those older richer perfumes that seemed to be coming back in fashion, his ex wife had certainly had a collection of them.

          The restaurant was beautiful to behold with dark mahogany panels covering the walls. A huge candelabra hung over the dance floor to one side, illuminating the dancer below. Obviously used for functions and such he mused. Maybe that’s how they managed to stay open out here. It was certainly the sort of place you’d expect people to come to for an expensive  wedding or party.

          Sable chose a table in the corner, and stood next to her chair. Obviously waiting for him to pull it out so she could sit. It took him a moment to realise what she was waiting for, and he apologised as he helped her to sit.

          The food was wonderful. Quite how they’d managed to keep the chef on site at such a late hour amazed him. He’d expected maybe some cold leftovers at best, but this was most probably the best steak he’d simply ever had.

Sable didn’t talk while he ate. She seemed to just enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him eat. It was some time later than he eventually pushed his plate aside, and dabbed at his face with his serviette. The waiter had placed a pot of coffee in the middle of the table and he filled both cups.

“So, how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not long really.” Sable smiled “Though it certainly feels longer at times. I’m waiting for some friends to arrive, but they’ve been held up.” she sipped at her drink. “So, John.” her eyes twinkled as she looked at him “What brought you here?”

“What brought me here?” he repeated as he thought how best to answer. It was a reasonable enough question he supposed, and it wasn’t as though Sable was prying. “I guess I just needed to get away.” he looked into her deep blue eyes as he spoke, feeling himself falling into them. It felt easy to talk to her, to relax. A chance for him to be himself again.

“Get away from what?” she asked, obviously not satisfied with his answer.

“My ex-wife.” He felt angry as he talked about the deceitful bitch. “She got everything I had in the divorce. Even the Merc.” It had been well over a year ago now, but some wounds cut deeper than others. “I should have seen it coming.” he shrugged “She was an actress. She had lots of friends round” he explained “Mostly male friends” he added. “And she had the money to hire a better lawyer than I could in the end”

“So you just drove away?”

“Sort of”. His past suddenly felt very close and he looked around the room trying to find a way of changing the subject. “I can’t believe people are still dancing. Doesn’t anyone sleep around here?”

Sable laughed at his question. “The desert tends to change you after a while.” She explained, as they watched them twirling around. “It’s too hot during the day to really do anything you see, so most of us stay up late and sleep the hottest part of the day away”

          The band played old dancehall tunes in the corner, and he found himself tapping his fingers to the beat on the table.

“Would you care to dance?” Sable asked, she took his unresisting hand and led him to the dance floor. He was started to feel sleepy again as he walked along with her, and was about to object when she kissed him. He instantly felt butterflies dancing in his stomach as her lips caressed his, and a small electric shock seemed to jump between them.

“Just one dance.” she smiled. “Then we can go to bed.”

          He smirked at her comment. Okay lady, he thought, if that’s the way you want to play it. They danced slowly at first, but sped up as they got used to each others movements. He knew he wasn’t the best dancer in the world, but Sable somehow not only managed to avoid his clumsy feet, but like a true professional, she managed to control him until he got better.

          They danced out into the cooler courtyard, the heady scent of the evening flowers and spices lulled him on, and with each kiss he felt energized, more alive than he had felt during all of his marriage and he realised he was more happier now than he’d felt in a long time.

“Sable,” he whispered. “Who are you?”

“Shush.” She placed her manicured finger lightly against his lips “Don’t think. Don’t worry about anything. Just dance with me.”

          Thunder rolled in the distance, and a soft rumbling flowed down from the mountains to the north. Bringing the promise of rain later, but the sky above them remained blissfully clear and the stars twinkled gaily above.

He realised she was right. Why ask question? why bother? While he was here, with her, there didn’t seem to be any reason for him to run any further.

They finally stopped dancing and sat on a low wall. He evening was perfect, she laughed at his jokes as though everyone was new, and her face seemed to shine as they talked about nothing.

Finally she announced it was time for bed and she led him once more by the hand back into the building.

“What wines do you have?” he enquired as the waiter passed them.

“I’m sorry, Sir” he shook his head sadly. “Our wine cellar was destroyed in a fire in the sixties. We have to order it in now for special events. We do have a fine collection of beer on tap though, if that will suffice.”

“No.” He shook his head “It’s okay, it was just a thought.”

“Can we get a bottle of champagne in our room then?” Sable smiled “That would be nice to end the night with, and I recall you have a bottle or two still around from the weekend?”

“Indeed we do Miss Sable.” he smiled. “Indeed we do. I will see to it directly.” He nodded politely before shuffling away.

          They walked slowly back into the foyer. Sable led the way to their rooms, stopping every few minutes to kiss him deeply on the lips and it felt like hours had passed when she finally stopped by a door.

“Well. This is your room.” she smiled. “Why don’t you get a shower and change into something more comfortable and I’ll see you in about ten minutes” she stroked his cheek gently with her nail before walking to the next door. Turning back with a smile she blew a single kiss to him before stepped inside.

          His room was spacious and the large double bed felt firm to the touch. There was a bucket of ice stood to one side with a bottle of champagne sitting neatly in it. He lay down, scaring himself slightly as he spotted the mirrors above the bed. So it’s that sort of Hotel he smirked. He’d certainly slept in seedier places, but none better than this.

          The shower was just what his aching back needed. He just let the water crash into his face for a minute or two before finally starting to wash the dust and sand from his joints, and he thought of Sable waiting for him in the next room.

He didn’t want to put the same old clothes on and was pleased to see a luxuriously soft bathrobe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Better than nothing he thought. Well, at least for the moment and he allowed himself a smile as he thought of Sable.

She must be waiting for him now, he realised, and he eagerly dried his hair before making for her room. He tapped lightly on her door and as a couple walked passed he realised how naked he was under the gown.

“Evening,” he nodded to them, “Its such a lovely night isn’t it?” They nodded politely as they continued passed.

He knocked again. The conversation from the couple still reaching him down the long corridor, but he couldn’t make out what they said and eventually Sable opened the door.

She was still as dressed as he had left her, and a sudden flash of fear panicked him that he had misread the situation. He didn’t know how he could have, not with the clear signs she’d given. But she’d smiled approvingly when she saw him, so he guessed everything was fine.

“Do you mind if I just pop somewhere else first?” she smiled. “You can wait in my room if you’d like. I won’t be long.”

“Sure” he replied, not knowing what else to say. “I guess that’s fine.” It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, but as long as she was coming back he guessed it would be okay.

“It’s just a small matter of business I need to attend to.” she smiled reassuringly “There’s no peace for the wicked you know. Just go inside and get yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

“You’re working now?” he asked.

 “Sort of,” She stopped in the corridor. “I do a little work for the hotel. Meeting and greeting, special guests mainly,” she explained. “They take it of the price of my stay if I help out now and again. I’ll just be a second or two, I promise. Is that alright?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Sure, no problem. See you in a moment.” A minute or two wasn’t that much of a price to pay for such a sexy woman, he reasoned. He watched her walk off up the corridor before he stepped back into her room and closed the door.

The room was very similar to his, and he was pleased to see the mirrors on the ceiling in here too. Her luggage sat open on a chair near the window and he casually walked over to it, moving bits aside to see what she’d brought with her.

          It seemed to contain either long dresses or underwear and a couple of pairs of high heels had been dropped in at the bottom. An odd selection of items he thought, not very practical in the desert though he liked the lace.

A scream from outside the room made him turn quickly. It wasn’t a high pitched scream of a woman, but of a man.

          He opened the door and listened for anything that would tell him what direction the sound had come from.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he darted back to his room and grabbing his knife from his boot. He knew he should have got rid of it ages ago but he’d just never got round to it. Keeping it on him had been a risky choice, but now he felt happier to have something solid with him.

          Back on the corridor again he followed the sounds of what he thought was a fight, and he cautiously made his way over to the door. Pressing his ear against it to listen, he jumped as a scream bellowed once more from inside. Someone was defiantly in pain, someone needed help. He kicked the door hard with his foot and barged inside as it swung open.

          The scene before him was hard to believe. A man lay on the bed, his face contorted in pain and fear as a group of people cut into his stomach. Blood sprayed from the wounds as they repeatedly stabbed him, over and over they stabbed him but he didn’t move. He just lay there screamed over and over, seemingly unable to stop them. His hands shook uncontrollable as he backed away from the macabre scene.

“John, dear,” Sable called happily as she stepped away from the bed. “I thought I told you to stay in my room, you naughty boy.” Her face was covered in blood as she spoke and she wiped it absentmindedly off with her slender fingers and licked it.

“I told you I’d be back in a moment.” She acted as thought nothing was wrong. That what she was doing was perfectly normally.

She sauntered towards him as the others continued to stab at the man on the bed. His screams now seemed to be almost deafening.

“Oh, look, you dropped your knife.” She bent to pick it up, handing it back to him and he carefully took it from her.

“Go and wait for me, John, I won’t be long.” She gently pushed him from the room and closed the door.

He stood for a second or two staring at the wooden panels of the door, the image inside flashing before his eyes. There was no way he was going to stay here. Not now, and he certainly didn’t want to wait for Sable.

He ran down the corridors, trying to find the exit, trying to remember the route they’d taken to get here. Each corridor looked the same, leading off into god knows where and it was more by chance than skill that he eventually found the foyer and ran to get help from the attendant.

“Good evening, Sir,” he smiled. “Can I help you?”

“You need to call the police” he insisted. “There been a murder, well someone’s being murdered.”

“Calm down sir, calm down” he held up his hands as he spoke. “Do you want a coffee instead?”

“No. You’re not listening to me!” he shouted. “Call the police.”

“No Sir.” His demeanour didn’t change. “There’s been no murder, certainly no murder here. The restaurant is still open though if you want something to eat”

“You’re mad,” he screamed throwing his keys on the desk. “You’re all mad.” He ran to the door. To hell with them, if they wouldn’t call the police he’d just get the hell out of there. There was no way he was going to report this. Not now. Not so soon after…

          He stepped through the door and stopped as the world seemed to spin before him.

He was stood back in the foyer of the hotel. The attendant smiled over to him as he stood confused at the door.

“Welcome to…” He began, but John turned and pushed open the door again to step outside. He’d jump in his car and be gone. Put all this behind him.

          The world span again and he stood in the foyer once more. Sable was there now all clean and sultry again.

“John dear” she smiled. “Are you okay? you look pale.”

“What the hells going on?” The television in the corner started to play louder and he could see a news crew as they filmed what looked like a serious car crash, and he seemed drawn to it as the reporter spoke to the camera.

“Well, I’m here at the scene of the accident” she continued. “From what information we’ve been given so far, he died at the scene so it looks like the chase is finally over.” A voice from the studio cut in over as she talked.

“Can you confirm it’s actually him?”

“Yes I can” she smiled. “The police confirmed it a few moments ago. This is defiantly John Kelly.” He felt his legs go weak at the mention of his name and he staggered backwards, holding himself up against the counter.

“As we all know, he’s been on the most wanted list for two months now after he brutal stabbing his ex-wife and six of her lovers.”

          Had someone else been mistaken for him? he wondered. His mind raced as he looked for options to explain what was happening. As he continued to watch the screen the medics carried a body back to the waiting ambulance. The camera zoomed into the stretched and he let out a cry of disbelief. It was him. He was on the stretcher.

He looked up at Sable as she walked over to him, gently leading him to the desk.

“You need to sign in John.” He looked dumbly at the attendant. Not understanding what was happening?

“Welcome to the Hotel California” the clerk smiled. “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”