I seem to be invisible, or at least that's how I feel. I just have to get to a place so that no one notices my presence. I don't think it's just my perception, I think that over the years I have made it so that no one sees me.
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I haven't talked to the people around me for many years, they make me feel discouraged. I don't like to talk to people. When I leave the house, I like to walk immersed in my thoughts. I have so many things to think about and I do it. Little by little I make my ideas clear.
I always have plans, strategies, mysteries to solve... that's why when I walk I immerse myself in my mind and walk, walk and walk. Sometimes I have returned home and I have not even noticed what I was doing outside.
Today I have been thinking about something and my mind has been planning what I will do.
It was a very quiet afternoon and, on the way to the sea, I was thinking about the sounds in the air. There were sounds of birds fluttering and, the sea, with its waves could be heard closer to me. It was the loudest sound as I reached the beach.
The crashing of sand and waves was repeated. Again and again, sometimes softer, sometimes like the sound of children playing, sometimes joyful, sometimes angry.
I approach the rocks, sitting there, I observe how the swaying of the sea becomes a line drawn on the surface, like crumpled paper. Occasionally the fish jump in the waves...
what do they want to do?
Are they escaping, sailing, greeting other fish, or is it just part of their fishy routine?
I don't know, I like to think that they go out to say hello and come back to look for others to do the same.
The sea foam seems to be whiter, where does it come from?
Is there more coming out of the water?
Is there more dirt accumulated?
But I see it the same... why is there so much foam?
I have no idea; I just have questions, and no one cares to answer them.
I like the sea, I love the sea, I like to see it from the shore. I don't even think of entering its waters, because I can't see around me. I'm afraid of the depth, I'm afraid of the water, I'm afraid of the unknown.
I can't stand being in the water and not being able to see what might be approaching my body and then what would I do?
I couldn't run out, because water traps bodies. I know I lived it.
It was one afternoon when I was out with my parents and my siblings. They didn't see me but I did, no one was looking out for me. They were all enjoying the blue waters of the sea and I realized that no one was looking out for me and I felt afraid. I was on top of a life buoy, but that was not enough for everyone to be calm and not look at me.
Then I felt something that pinked my leg, and again and again, it did it. I didn't see it, I didn't see anything. I was 10 years old and my mind flowed, I let go. There was a shark touching and rubbing my leg to tell me he would take his trophy with him. I thought about running and couldn't.
I let go of the float and fell, I was in water higher than me. I jumped out and, as best I could, ran to shore. I don't know how long it took me, but I panicked, all by myself. I cried alone, no one noticed me, my float was there, in the water. I floated alone. Then as best I could I swam to shore, unnoticed. I was on the shore.
From there, I am alone, no one looks at me. I don't lift my gaze from the ground. Mostly I just walk, walk, and walk.
I am @gertu from Venezuela to the world.
Parece que soy invisible, o al menos así es cómo me siento. Solo tengo que llegar a un lugar para que nadie note mi presencia. No creo que solo sea mi percepción, pienso que a través de los años yo he propiciado que nadie me vea.
Hace muchos años que no converso con las personas a mi alrededor, me provocan desánimo. No es de mi agrado conversar con las personas. Cuando salgo de casa, me gusta caminar sumergida en mis pensamientos. Es que tengo tantas cosas en qué pensar y lo hago. Poco a poco voy dejando en claro mis ideas.
Siempre tengo planes, estrategias, misterios que resolver… por eso cuando camino me sumergo en mi mente y camino, camino y camino. En oportunidades he regresado a casa y ni siquiera he notado lo que estuve haciendo afuera.
Hoy he estado pensando en algo y mi mente ha ido planeando lo que haré…
Era una tarde muy tranquila y camino al mar, yo pensaba en los sonidos del aire. Habían sonidos de aves revolotendo en los aires y, el mar, con su oleaje cada vez más cercano, se hacía más sonoro cuando llegaba a la playa. El choque de la arena y de las olas se repetía. Una y otra vez, unas veces más suave y otras veces parecía el sonido de los niños al jugar, una vez alegre y otra vez enfurecido.
Me acerco a las rocas, allí sentada, observo como el vaiven del mar se vuelve una línea dibujada en la superficie, como papel arrugado. En casos ocasionales los peces dan saltos en las olas, que quieren hacer? Escapan, navegan, saludan a otros peces o tan solo es parte de su rutina de peces. No lo sé, me agrada pensar que salen a saludar y regresan a buscar a otros para que hagan lo mismo.
La espuma del mar parece que esta más blanca, de donde sale?
Hay más sal en el agua?
Hay más suciedad acumulada?
Pero yo la veo igual… porque hay tanta espuma?
No tengo idea, solo preguntas y nadie a quien le interese para contestar.
Me gusta el mar, adoro el mar, me agrada verlo desde la orilla. Ni siquiera pienso en entrar en sus aguas, porque no puedo ver a mi alrededor. Le temo a la profundidad, le temo a las aguas, le temo a lo desconocido.
No soporto estar en el agua y no poder ver qué se puede estar aproximando a mi cuerpo y luego yo que haría?
No podría salir corriendo, porque el agua atrapa los cuerpos. Lo sé, lo viví.
Fue una tarde en que salí con mis padres y mis hermanos. Ellos no me veían pero yo sí, nadie estaba cuidando de mí. Todos estaban disfrutando de las aguas azules del mar y yo me dí cuenta que nadie me cuidaba y sentí temor. Estaba encima de un flotador salvavidas, pero eso no era suficiente para que todos estuviesen tranquilos y no me mirasen.
Entonces sentí algo que rosó mi pierna, una y otra vez lo hizo. No lo ví, no ví nada. Tenía 10 años y mi mente fluyó, me dejé llevar. Allí estaba un tiburón tocando y rosando mi pierna para decirme que se llevaría su trofeo con él. Pensé en correr y no podía.
Me solté del flotador y caí, estaba en agua más alta que yo. Salté y, como pude, corrí hacia la orilla. No sé cuánto tiempo me llevó, pero entré en pánico, yo sola. Lloré sola, nadie se fijó en mí, mi flotador estaba allí, en el agua. Flotaba sola. Luego, como pude, nadé hasta la orilla, sin que nadie se diera cuenta. Estaba en la orilla.
Desde allí, estoy sola, nadie me mira. Yo no levanto mi mirada del piso. Sobre todo solo camino, camino y camino.
I remember feeling this alone at one point in my life. Everyone that was supposed to see me was there yet I felt unseen. It's been years but it still breaks my heart to think about.
This piece was moving. Well done.
Wow, I'm so sorry that you would have reflected in my fictional story. It's a good thing that you didn't go through the same thing that happened to my protagonist at the end of the story.
I hope you continue to overcome that stage in your life and start to feel more accompanied, you can always start to have more acquaintances.
Thank you for your visit and your valuable comment, thank you very much.
Poor girl, her parents made her invisible. Have a happy night
Thank you very much.
hello @gertu
Welcome to The Ink Well!
This was a lovely and poignant introspective piece. Here at The Ink Well, we focus on fiction and Creative non-fiction and encourage our writers to submit balanced pieces that include as many of the elements of good fiction (even in true stories told well) as possible. While your submission didn't reflect all of these aspects, and was slightly shorter than our minimum recommended length, I found your piece to be a refreshing read and look forward to reading more from you in the community.
Thank you for engaging so nicely with other members and for also supporting their stories :-)
Now that you're here, please have a look around and get to know our community. Here are a few tips for getting acquainted:
Be sure to read The Ink Well community rules at the top of the community home page, and check out our FAQ about The Ink Well.
We accept two kinds of short stories in The Ink Well: fictional stories and creative nonfiction stories. We are all about quality, and we expect writers to carefully review their work before posting. Not doing so will result in low curation rewards or posts being ignored. You can see our article on checking your posts for grammar here.
You can find some great articles on story writing in our catalog of storytelling tips.
You can find information about what we are looking for in creative nonfiction stories in [this post] (https://peakd.com/hive-170798/@theinkwell/creative-nonfiction-what-it-is-and-tips-for-success).
And please be sure to engage in the community by reading and commenting on the work of other community members. We ask everyone who posts in The Ink Well to read and comment on at least two other stories for each one published.
Again, welcome!
Thank you very much for accepting my publication. Even though it is short I did my best to introduce myself to this community with one of my little stories. Soon you will know other short stories from my imagination.
Thank you very much for your suggestions so that I can continue to grow in this platform as a participant and as a free writer.