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Desk #3: Elizabeth Jones (Liz)

Liz slumped into her seat and proceeded to disappear. This was how she spent her time in Mr. Dobbins’ class every day. In fact, this was how she intended to live her entire life.

Invisible. Complete and utter nothingness. Unnoticeable. Forgettable.

She couldn’t remember why she felt this way. Why she felt that participation in society was restrictive and unnecessary. It was simply a persistent presence, exacerbated by the fact that everyone in this god-forsaken school already treated her as though she were wallpaper. She was a pen holder. A paperweight. A wastebasket. An ordinary thing of no real consequence, interchangeable with any number of similar, mundane objects.

She felt something hit her neck. A crumpled wad of paper fell to her desk.

Timothy Brooks!” Mr. Dobbins yelled.

Ingrid leaned over.

“Don’t boys just suck?” she whispered.

Fuck off, she wanted to say.

“Yeah, totally,” was what ended up coming out.

Maybe I’m not invisible, she said to herself. But I’m absolutely unnecessary.

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