Stuck

Stuck

The hall is silent, say for the few students whose voices are just echoes down the hall. Occasionally students walk by, doors creaking shut behind them. The walls are white and remind me of a prison cell, which is what this is to me. Even the colored posters, and decorative designs can’t take away my feeling of unease. The bell rings after what feels like an eternity. Doors open loudly and the hall fills with voices which echo through the packed hallway. I don’t move as people shove past me. I don’t feel their violent shoves, for they can’t see me, and in turn I can’t feel them. Sometimes I wish they would see me, know that I’m still here and can never leave. I’ve tried to tell them, even show them, but they don’t see or hear anything. It’s been about a month since I disappeared. For the first few weeks after my disappearance everyone was freaking out. My friends started crying whenever someone mentioned something I loved while I was “existing”. It was hard to watch, and yet I had no choice. If only I could tell them I’m not dead.
It’s still a wonder…how I became stuck here in the first place. I remember being in the library with, Michelle, my best friend. I thought it would be fun to hide from her, just to scare her a little. I know it was mean and childish, but that didn’t stop me. When I jumped out at her she didn’t respond. I was disappointed, had she seen me plotting? I waved my arms in front of her, but she didn’t even blink.
“Michelle, are you okay,” I asked her quietly.
She blinked, and I sighed with relief until she asked,” Jem, where are you?”
I thought she was playing a joke on me, to pay me back so I said,” Michelle, I’m right here.”
“Look Jem, this isn’t funny, come out now.”
“Come on Michelle I’m right here,” I repeated, waving my arms franticly.
“Okay Jem, well I’m leaving, I’ll see you… when I see you.”
She turned away from me then and walked away. I stepped in front of her, but she passed right through me. I was confused, questioning myself;” I’m not dead, am I”?
“Michelle Wait,” I shouted, following her. “Michelle please just wait a minute.”
We were in the main hall now. The bell rang again signaling lunch. She stopped in front of our two friends, Jess, and Sara, to ask if they’d seen me. They both shook their heads so Michelle said, “If you see her tell her I went out to lunch.” They nodded; concerned looks passed over their faces before they could mask them. “Look Michelle, Sara, Jess, I’m right here please just look at me”, I shouted at them.
None of them looked up, and after a few minutes Michelle left through the main doors, and went to lunch. I attempted to follow her, and made it through the doors when I found myself back in the main hall. I tried again, and again with the same results until I collapsed to my knees and began to cry.
Since that day my life has been altered. I can never leave my school. I watch through the windows as my old friends leave wishing more than anything in the world that I could join them. The days are long, longer than they were when I was in the same “world” as everyone else. I didn’t think that something like this was possible. Each day I wonder why I am the one stuck here, why am I being punished? Sure it was a mean joke, but it was harmless… or so I thought. Is that the real reason I am trapped here? No, I don’t believe it is. I don’t like that I’m the one “suffering”, but if I had the chance to switch places with a friend I wouldn’t. So here I remain trapped in Myriads High for who knows how long.
Every day here passes in the same fashion, never changing. My old schedule continues on. First I had science, which was followed by, Math, Spanish, lunch, Chorus, English, and social studies. I can’t touch people, and I can’t leave the building, but for some reason I can interact with objects. The only catch is that if I try to send messages to anyone the materials go back to where they originally were.
I learned that lesson during Social Studies one afternoon. I had been gone for a few days and I just got so impatient and scared that I grabbed a book and threw it across the room. Everyone jumped in surprise and I thought that I had finally gotten through to my classmates, when a white light flashed and everything went back to the point where I picked up the book. The book was back in my hand and the teacher began his spiel from when I intended to throw the book. I still follow the same pattern passing from class to class, a ghost unnoticed by those around me. It gets rather lonely, being on my own, yet I’m completely surrounded by people.