Wishes that Shouldn't Come True

"Look! It's the freak; get her!"

You know what? hearing this sort of thing on a daily basis sure gets exhausting. What's their deal, anyway? It's not like I dress out of the ordinary, or I am so old- fashioned that I stick out every time I'm in public. Why can't thay just let me live my life? I will always regret the day that had permanently ruined my life.

For starters, this happened a long time ago. I was just like any other kid. (Well, sort of...) My name at birth was Trisha Butcher. Lightly freckled with reddish brown hair and a slight figure, I wasn't too ugly or pretty. Just plain normal. I had my own share of friends, too. We enjoyed swimming, horseback riding, games, and the normal routine of activities.

The only thing that was of any consequence was that my friends and I were at the small end of the chain, which meant that the older and larger kids attained their days' fun by pushing us around and making us do all sorts of cruel things.

Pete Hounder was the worst of all. It seemed like I was his favorite when it came to having "fun". Whether it be allowing him to get an ant to crawl up my nose or ruining one of my shoes so I had to go the rest of the day barefoot or with one shoe; the torrents of torture never stopped.

My friends and I had enough. Unfortunately, there was nothing we could do. We would discuss things with the brightest in our group, Augie, but when the time came we were all too petrified to try. It never felt like going through with them would get us anywhere, anyway.

Strolling home together one day after school, Pete and the gang ambushed us. It did not look good. Their demonic grins jeered at us as they closed the circle, brandishing potato sacks and lengths of rope. This was entirely new to us, and the horror of what was to come hung over our heads like a thick fog.

"So, babies; which of you will be first?" Sinister chuckles drifted around the circle.

Pete's eyes came to settle upon Twinkles, the smallest and most cowardly of us all. At his gaze she shrunk back, visibly trembling. We called her Twinkles because she was small, and had a knack for dancing.

Twinkles winced in fear. "What are you going to do to me?" She peeped.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Before I knew it, I just had to open my big mouth. "What are you doing picking on her for? It's too easy to get her to cry. Afraid of failing?" My fate was sealed.

"Thanks for volunteering. That does sound like a good idea. Why don't you just step out of the circle and I'll meet you one- on- one?"

The bullies parted so I could pass through, and Pete stepped out of the circle as well, holding one of the sacks and a length of rope. Being bigger and older than I am, he let me roam free for a time, knowing that he was stronger and faster than me. I made a dash for it anyways. He gave chase, a wide grin plastered to his face. I darted and ducked, feinted and rolled. It was no use. My heart racing, I was finally cornered by the side of a building and the dumpster. My complection turned a ghastly white as I realized that it was all over. My skin began to get cold and clammy. My head whirled as I felt I may lose consciousness.

"Look what we got here! It's Trisha the ghost! You're not scared, are you? We're just getting started!"

He turned around to gloat to his frinds as usual, me crumpling against the ground more scared than I had ever been before. All I wanted to do was disappear. It seemed like the most inviting thing anyone had to offer. My shirt began sticking to me as sweat penetrated the fibers of my school shirt. Whoever said that girls don't sweat is a liar. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for the impossible to happen. A sudden gasp from the malicious onlookers startled me out of my hibernation.

"Where did she go?!? She was only there a second ago!"

What could they be talking about? I touched my arm just to make sure. I'm here all right! Was this some kind of joke for their prank?

To my surprise, Pete turned around and gave me one of the strangest and most bone- chilling looks I have ever seen in my life. His eyes strained, although he was looking right at me. It felt as if he were staring through, and not at me. HIs skin began to pale until it was close to that horrible color I had been not a moment before. His face looked dead, drained of blood.

I felt a slight tingling sensation running through me, bubbling under my skin as it traveled up and down the length of my body. I looked at my arm. I don't look invisible; at least not to me. Is this really what it feels like? It was such an immediate thing. One moment I was visible, the other I wasn't.

"It can't be! She had nowhere to go!"

Pete was visibly shaken. Never before had his position been so awkward; it was very unusual that anyone, even in this small way, retaliated to his cruelty.

"Come on gang- let's get out of here. Someone needs to find out about this." Surprisingly, they obeyed his command without hesitation. It felt good for now, but the plague was just starting. My friends gasped as I apparently reappeared, now feeling much better. Strange; I never thought it was possible...

In the days to come, people began to put more distance between me. I often found myself sitting alone at the lunch table. No one wanted me on their team. If I was the odd one out, they decided to make even teams and let me wander to play somewhere else. Gradually gaining confidence, the "freak alert" began. I couldn't go anywhere without people saying something about me being a freak. My friends all abandoned me; I was truly alone.

Now I live my life in continual fear. My story always seems to appear in the tabloids; of course, somewhat distorted. Several times my house has been broken into, governmental scientists or whatever coming to find me. That blessed miracle and curse has managed to save me every time. Who knows what they would do to me? On occasion, they even come in with thermal detectors and dogs, as well as some other things that I don't know what they are, but nothing seems to work. It's almost as if I don't exist.