I feel fine

"It's the end of the world as we know it," my phone cheerfully sings to me at 7AM sharp, as it does every day. With a groan I grab my phone and turn off the alarm, then open up my Instagram as I slowly wake up. I scroll through photos, cringing at one my roommate Luna posted last night that I don't remember taking. I look like a hot mess--my eyes are hooded and my mouth is open in that half-smile that my drunk alter ego thinks is incredibly hot. "Whatever," I say out loud as I throw off my covers and stumble to the dark bathroom. There's no window in my tiny bathroom, but I don't mind. Since I turned 30, I'm not in a huge rush to see my face, with its rapidly advancing crow's feet and fine lines, first thing in the morning. I rinse off my face and blindly grab for my toothbrush before I flip on the light. I stick my toothpaste-laden toothbrush in my mouth, glance in the mirror and let out a yelp, spewing suds all over the place.

“Where’s my face?” I say, reaching out to touch the mirror. I feel a vice-like pressure grip my chest and my breathing quickens as my brain tries to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe I’m still drunk. Did someone slip me something last night? Am I a ghost? That doesn’t make sense—ghosts aren’t invisible to themselves. Maybe my latent schizophrenia gene is finally manifesting and I’ve lost it completely.

I take one hand and put it over where I think my arm is and I still feel solid and real, but there’s nothing there. I’m waving my toothbrush through the air like a magic wand. I have no idea what to do next and I feel myself going into something like shock when I hear a knock at the door. “Tess? You up?” Luna calls through the door. We usually walk to work together, but Luna hates being late so she has started to tentatively ascertain if I wake up on time. I freeze, mind racing with possibilities. For lack of a better plan, I whip the door open to see if she can see me. She looks confused and says again, “Tess? Where are you? What’s going on?” I reach out and touch her and she screams, pushing me down the floor. I let out a humph and groan. “I’m right here, Luna! I’m invisible.”

Luna sinks to the floor silently, her huge eyes wide as saucers. Then in a timid voice, she says two words I don’t expect to hear: “It worked.”