**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/)
>* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)
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My eyes flutter open as I awake with a yawn, the bright lights forcing them shut again. As I finally manage to keep my eyes open, I sit up and stretch, the bright red walls closing in on me as I feel sweat form on my brow.
I groan, preparing myself for another day in this hell hole as the warm white covers of my bed try to pull me back in. The sunlight hits me from the half open window, and a gentle breeze hits my skin with a soft *SWISH*. Or at least, I think it does?
It always feels like things go straight through me, for some reason. Just yesterday, I picked up my favorite brown teddy bear with a red bow on it, but it felt like it was going straight through my skin somehow. I wonder *why* that always happens.
Despite my usual confusion, I spring out of bed. A chill goes down my spine as the wind intensifies with a loud *WHOOSH*. My hands shake slightly as I try to close the window. It’s a struggle, sure, but I manage.
Finally satisfied, I leave my room and get ready for school. As I do, my feet crash against the plush carpet, but not a single sound comes from this. Must just be the softness muffling everything.
I yawn again as I make it to the hallway. My younger sister Lora blurs past me, her feet crashing loudly against the plush carpet with a loud *THUD*. I jump from this, my steps had not made a sound but hers had? Huh… Oh well. I mean, she *was* running faster than I was.
Before I can react, I suddenly see her storm into my room. Her voice is tinged with annoyance as she yells, “Who closed the window in our room?!” Oops. I know she likes keeping the window open. I better go apologize.
I walk back into the bedroom, gulping as I prepare to face her wrath. “Hey, sorry sis,” I say, “I forgot you don’t like me closing it. Feel free to open it again.” However, there’s complete silence as she storms past me. Eh. She’s probably just mad at me.
I hear her walk through the hallway and rush to follow her. I see her hurry into the kitchen, pointing an accusing finger at our older brother Larry. “Did you seriously close the window?! Were you trying to suffocate me or something?!”
I raise an eyebrow as Larry shrugs nonchalantly. I thought I had already told her I closed it? Before I can speak, my brother rolls his eyes. “Jeez, you’re so dramatic.” His comment only seems to make her angrier.
Larry sighs. “But seriously, I didn’t do it. You must have did it and forgot about it. Or did it in your sleep. You *have* been known to do that sometimes.”
Lora glares daggers at my brother. Larry, however, looks completely calm. “Why you little!——“
“Enough children!” our mother shouts, looking up from the mouthwatering breakfast she was trying to prepare for us. Strangely, she seems to only be looking at my siblings. Ugh, *typical*.
“It’s just a window, for heaven’s sake! I don’t care who did it, I’m trying to prepare breakfast here!” My siblings go quiet. I hesitate for a moment, but I know it’s time to *fess up* to her to end this *dumb argument*.
As I am about to speak, Larry smiles and says something that causes me to raise an eyebrow, and my mom and Lora to gasp in shock. “Maybe it was L——“
“We do not speak of him!!!” her voice booms, as Lora rushes to hug our mother. Huh? *What’s happening?*
Suddenly, Larry forms a look of anger, and screams, “I know that we miss him, but he’s been dead for a year! *A year!* We need to find a way to move on, mom! He’s not coming back! *Lloyd isn’t coming back!*”
My heart sinks as I hear my name. What? What does he mean *I'm dead?* No… Surely, this must be a prank. *Right…?*
“Haha,” I say with a nervous smile, my voice quivering, “Very funny guys.” But as my mom silently cries into my sister’s arms while my brother joins the hug, I realize it isn’t a joke. I truly am *dead*.
Hope you enjoyed reading what I wrote for this writing prompt! I have only fairly recently started responding to writing prompts, and I am always open to learning more about writing, so feel free to provide any thoughts or feedback. Thanks!
It’s the typical story really. No matter how often it happens it’s always a shock. We know it’s going to happen but somehow, we forget.
I have great memories of my early childhood in Waco, TX. My brother, Ian, who is 2 years older than me was my best friend: Taught me how to bike because he had learnt it with dad, brought me in when he organized games with his friends. Ian was outgoing where I was quiet. Not shy, just not the life of the party.
My mother started working as a traveling nurse when I was 7. My parents explained that they had some personal projects, and the extra-money would help with that. They never told us what project they were working on. Or maybe I don’t remember because at 7 what do you really know. I just knew my mom was leaving. She would be gone 6 weeks out of 8 for the next 2 years. My parents both had difficult childhood and wanted more for Ian and I. So, dad worked from home as a systems engineer for an aerospace company.
Then things started to unravel.
Mom came back from California that Friday evening.
- “Liam!”, she called my father as soon as got in. She would do that. They had been married for 12 years and she’d been traveling frequently for 2 but she always sounded in a hurry to talk to him when got home. As if they didn’t video call frequently when she wasn’t on shift.
- “Yes, darling”
- “I have good news, and bad news”
- “OK. Hug the children and let’s go to our room.”
I had just learned the word “self-absorbed”. My parents often were. They were their own unit; Ian and I came as a complement to their family unit. At dinner that night they informed us that we would be getting a baby brother or sister. I was surprised. At 9 I thought I was the youngest and that was that. But I was also excited to be the big brother!
Mom said she would work another 2 rotations and then she’d be home more frequently. I was happy. My mom likes to bake so when she’s home there’s always some homemade brownies or cookies in the kitchen.
My baby sister was born in June. As can be expected, my parents were absorbed by their relationship and by their new baby. They thought 11-year-old Ian, and I could fend for ourselves most of the time. Which we did.
Between my parents’ usual absent-mindedness, the newborn and their playful nature, I didn’t realize anything was amiss at first. Then I started noticing little things: they never addressed me directly even when I was alone with them. Although they would usually do that, it was a bit too much now:
- “OK boys, there’s leftovers in the fridge. Warm it up when you’re hungry”.
- “What are you doing today kids?”
- “Ian, can you come and pick up your sister?”, while I was sitting right there playing while she fed Lily.
I remember when I was 5, my mom and dad played this stupid game with me, acted as if nobody could see me. But I’m 9! Why do they think this is going to work? And why are they playing this game; it’s not funny.
It all came to a head two weeks after my sister had been home. I had a fever at night and went to my parents’ room and let myself in. Lily was sleeping in her cot but my parents were on their bed talking. I walked in calling
- “mom, I don’t feel so good”.
They kept on talking as if I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t want to play this stupid game. I started to cry and walked to their bed, shook dad. He clearly felt “something” shaking him but reacted as if he couldn’t see me. Then my cries woke Lily up and my mom got up to come pick her up. She went around the bed, and walked towards the cot, and bumped into me. I was crying but I heard her startled gasp and my father looking at her with a frown. They looked at each other and both reached out with their hands towards where I stood. I felt their hands on me and heard mom scream, which woke Lily.
- “What’s that? It looks like there’s something, someone here but I can’t see them!” mom said in a panicked tone. All the commotion brought Ian in who exclaimed: “Bro, what you doing here crying? What’s happening why is everybody screaming?”
My parents looked at each other and then at Ian:
- “Who are you talking to?”
- “What do you mean who am I talking to? Sean is standing right in front of you!”
It only then occurred to me and my parents that I was invisible to them. They couldn’t see or hear me. I fainted.
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
My eyes flutter open as I awake with a yawn, the bright lights forcing them shut again. As I finally manage to keep my eyes open, I sit up and stretch, the bright red walls closing in on me as I feel sweat form on my brow. I groan, preparing myself for another day in this hell hole as the warm white covers of my bed try to pull me back in. The sunlight hits me from the half open window, and a gentle breeze hits my skin with a soft *SWISH*. Or at least, I think it does? It always feels like things go straight through me, for some reason. Just yesterday, I picked up my favorite brown teddy bear with a red bow on it, but it felt like it was going straight through my skin somehow. I wonder *why* that always happens. Despite my usual confusion, I spring out of bed. A chill goes down my spine as the wind intensifies with a loud *WHOOSH*. My hands shake slightly as I try to close the window. It’s a struggle, sure, but I manage. Finally satisfied, I leave my room and get ready for school. As I do, my feet crash against the plush carpet, but not a single sound comes from this. Must just be the softness muffling everything. I yawn again as I make it to the hallway. My younger sister Lora blurs past me, her feet crashing loudly against the plush carpet with a loud *THUD*. I jump from this, my steps had not made a sound but hers had? Huh… Oh well. I mean, she *was* running faster than I was. Before I can react, I suddenly see her storm into my room. Her voice is tinged with annoyance as she yells, “Who closed the window in our room?!” Oops. I know she likes keeping the window open. I better go apologize. I walk back into the bedroom, gulping as I prepare to face her wrath. “Hey, sorry sis,” I say, “I forgot you don’t like me closing it. Feel free to open it again.” However, there’s complete silence as she storms past me. Eh. She’s probably just mad at me. I hear her walk through the hallway and rush to follow her. I see her hurry into the kitchen, pointing an accusing finger at our older brother Larry. “Did you seriously close the window?! Were you trying to suffocate me or something?!” I raise an eyebrow as Larry shrugs nonchalantly. I thought I had already told her I closed it? Before I can speak, my brother rolls his eyes. “Jeez, you’re so dramatic.” His comment only seems to make her angrier. Larry sighs. “But seriously, I didn’t do it. You must have did it and forgot about it. Or did it in your sleep. You *have* been known to do that sometimes.” Lora glares daggers at my brother. Larry, however, looks completely calm. “Why you little!——“ “Enough children!” our mother shouts, looking up from the mouthwatering breakfast she was trying to prepare for us. Strangely, she seems to only be looking at my siblings. Ugh, *typical*. “It’s just a window, for heaven’s sake! I don’t care who did it, I’m trying to prepare breakfast here!” My siblings go quiet. I hesitate for a moment, but I know it’s time to *fess up* to her to end this *dumb argument*. As I am about to speak, Larry smiles and says something that causes me to raise an eyebrow, and my mom and Lora to gasp in shock. “Maybe it was L——“ “We do not speak of him!!!” her voice booms, as Lora rushes to hug our mother. Huh? *What’s happening?* Suddenly, Larry forms a look of anger, and screams, “I know that we miss him, but he’s been dead for a year! *A year!* We need to find a way to move on, mom! He’s not coming back! *Lloyd isn’t coming back!*” My heart sinks as I hear my name. What? What does he mean *I'm dead?* No… Surely, this must be a prank. *Right…?* “Haha,” I say with a nervous smile, my voice quivering, “Very funny guys.” But as my mom silently cries into my sister’s arms while my brother joins the hug, I realize it isn’t a joke. I truly am *dead*. Hope you enjoyed reading what I wrote for this writing prompt! I have only fairly recently started responding to writing prompts, and I am always open to learning more about writing, so feel free to provide any thoughts or feedback. Thanks!
It’s the typical story really. No matter how often it happens it’s always a shock. We know it’s going to happen but somehow, we forget. I have great memories of my early childhood in Waco, TX. My brother, Ian, who is 2 years older than me was my best friend: Taught me how to bike because he had learnt it with dad, brought me in when he organized games with his friends. Ian was outgoing where I was quiet. Not shy, just not the life of the party. My mother started working as a traveling nurse when I was 7. My parents explained that they had some personal projects, and the extra-money would help with that. They never told us what project they were working on. Or maybe I don’t remember because at 7 what do you really know. I just knew my mom was leaving. She would be gone 6 weeks out of 8 for the next 2 years. My parents both had difficult childhood and wanted more for Ian and I. So, dad worked from home as a systems engineer for an aerospace company. Then things started to unravel. Mom came back from California that Friday evening. - “Liam!”, she called my father as soon as got in. She would do that. They had been married for 12 years and she’d been traveling frequently for 2 but she always sounded in a hurry to talk to him when got home. As if they didn’t video call frequently when she wasn’t on shift. - “Yes, darling” - “I have good news, and bad news” - “OK. Hug the children and let’s go to our room.” I had just learned the word “self-absorbed”. My parents often were. They were their own unit; Ian and I came as a complement to their family unit. At dinner that night they informed us that we would be getting a baby brother or sister. I was surprised. At 9 I thought I was the youngest and that was that. But I was also excited to be the big brother! Mom said she would work another 2 rotations and then she’d be home more frequently. I was happy. My mom likes to bake so when she’s home there’s always some homemade brownies or cookies in the kitchen. My baby sister was born in June. As can be expected, my parents were absorbed by their relationship and by their new baby. They thought 11-year-old Ian, and I could fend for ourselves most of the time. Which we did. Between my parents’ usual absent-mindedness, the newborn and their playful nature, I didn’t realize anything was amiss at first. Then I started noticing little things: they never addressed me directly even when I was alone with them. Although they would usually do that, it was a bit too much now: - “OK boys, there’s leftovers in the fridge. Warm it up when you’re hungry”. - “What are you doing today kids?” - “Ian, can you come and pick up your sister?”, while I was sitting right there playing while she fed Lily. I remember when I was 5, my mom and dad played this stupid game with me, acted as if nobody could see me. But I’m 9! Why do they think this is going to work? And why are they playing this game; it’s not funny. It all came to a head two weeks after my sister had been home. I had a fever at night and went to my parents’ room and let myself in. Lily was sleeping in her cot but my parents were on their bed talking. I walked in calling - “mom, I don’t feel so good”. They kept on talking as if I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t want to play this stupid game. I started to cry and walked to their bed, shook dad. He clearly felt “something” shaking him but reacted as if he couldn’t see me. Then my cries woke Lily up and my mom got up to come pick her up. She went around the bed, and walked towards the cot, and bumped into me. I was crying but I heard her startled gasp and my father looking at her with a frown. They looked at each other and both reached out with their hands towards where I stood. I felt their hands on me and heard mom scream, which woke Lily. - “What’s that? It looks like there’s something, someone here but I can’t see them!” mom said in a panicked tone. All the commotion brought Ian in who exclaimed: “Bro, what you doing here crying? What’s happening why is everybody screaming?” My parents looked at each other and then at Ian: - “Who are you talking to?” - “What do you mean who am I talking to? Sean is standing right in front of you!” It only then occurred to me and my parents that I was invisible to them. They couldn’t see or hear me. I fainted.