My Eyes Were Still Blue by Daniel Joseph Day

A lonely young man has a medical condition that is causing him to gradually disappear.

Image generated with OpenAI

I've been turning invisible since I was thirteen. I swear it began when Rebecca Styles rejected me in front of the entire class and I'd wished so hard to disappear. I explain this to the doctor; she laughs.

'No, no.' she shakes her head then leans forward on her chair. 'It's a degenerative condition, quite rare, especially in males.'

I peer down at my open hands; I can see my knees through them. I had waited till my twenties before seeking medical attention. I guess I was in denial, like a balding man refusing to notice the slow recession of his hairline.

'So how long before I...' I begin a question I don't want the answer to. The doctor smiles sympathetically, places a firm hand on my knee and for a moment I feel solid again.

'How long before you completely disappear?' she sighs, long and thoughtful. 'It really depends. Some people never completely go, others are practically invisible from the start and stay that way for the rest of their lives. There are so few cases that the data doesn't tell us much yet - which reminds me!' She wheels over to her desk and ruffles a handful of papers at me. 'The consent forms!' she declares. 'You said you would agree to further study, to be part of the research programme?'

I nod my head then remember to say yes out loud. I'm supposed to avoid nonverbal communication.

'So there's no cure?' I ask, knowing there isn't.

'No...' The pause is full of respectful sympathy. 'But there are things that can help!' she chimes like a bell. She rummages in a drawer, pulls out a leaflet. She takes a firm hold of my wrist before placing the bold coloured literature in my hand.

'Living with declining visibility.' I read aloud, thumbing the first few pages.

'There are little speakers you can wear.' She points to page four. 'You can set them to play soft music or a warning message or anything you like! It alerts your presence to others.'

'Like a bicycle bell?' I scoff.

'Exactly,' she replies sincerely. 'But then you could always apply for a dog.' She guides me to page seven.

'A dog?'

'Oh they're wonderful!' she claps her hands. 'Like a seeing eye dog for the blind only... sort of...'

'The other way around?'

'Exactly!'

I let out a long sigh. I stare at the labrador excitedly sniffing at the outline of the woman. Is this what my life looks like now? Is this the future I have to look forward to - my only companion a trained animal? People already feel sorry for me; I read it in their faces. I'm that friend who must be thought of, who must be included, a necessity so that people feel they have 'done their bit'. And what about girlfriends? I think I used to be handsome, well at least average looking. My eyes were a bright, happy blue, now they're grey like the mist.

'They know your scent.' the doctor continues. 'Such clever animals.'

'But what about relationships?' I interject.

'Oh, they're very loyal!'

'No, not the dogs - I mean relationships! I mean proper adult relationships?'

The doctor turns and flushes a little. She taps on her keyboard.

'I'm going to refer you to a counsellor.'

'What?'

'It's normal to feel anxious about a condition like this but counselling can really help. Remember, there isn't much data yet, but experts believe stress and anxiety won't help the symptoms.'

'Oh perfect!' I snort. 'So I'm not supposed to get stressed about slowly vanishing from existence?'

'Not from existence.' she calmly reassures. 'People may not be able to see you but a counsellor can help you feel seen, you understand?'

I don't really. I still have a million questions that I don't want the answers to. I leave the surgery with hands full of consent forms and leaflets, nearly walking straight into the automatic doors before the receptionist kindly steps forward to trigger the sensor.

---

'You really don't look that bad you know?' says Marnie when we meet for coffee. She twizzles her hair and thumbs through the leaflets while sucking at a long colourful straw. I've been staring at her for the last five minutes, wishing she'd met me when my eyes were still blue. Wishing she'd never met that idiot Brian and that we'd had our chance.

'Thanks,' I mutter.

'Seriously!' she says. 'I can see you perfectly in this light. Did the doctor say anything about it getting worse?'

'Yep, said it might or it might not, dunno really.' I stare out the window, wipe a tear with my sleeve.

'Hey,' Marnie soothes, touching my arm. My skin tingles at her touch. 'It's alright. It's gonna be alright!'

'Will it?' I sniff. I can see the cup through my fingers as I bring it to my mouth.

'Of course it is! Hey, you could get a dog you know?' she thrusts page seven towards my face.

'I know.' I push the leaflet away.

'It would be perfect!' she cries. 'Then your dog and Buster can be friends and we'll take them for walks together!' I nod, lost in depressing thoughts of beautiful Marnie walking two dogs, chatting madly to nobody beside her.

'So how's Brian?' I sigh. Marnie shakes her head, holds back tears of her own. 'Oh come on Marnie! What's he done this time? Honestly, I don't know how you've stayed with that guy for so long!'

'He's been horrible!' she sobs. 'We had a huge fight and when I said I was going to leave and move in with mum and dad, he said he was going to keep Buster because he's our dog and not just mine and I'm scared if I left them alone then Buster might get hurt and...'

'Marnie!' I snap. 'You can't go on like this! Can't you see what he's doing? He's manipulating you! Playing on your emotions so you won't leave him. What a pathetic loser!'

'Oh thanks!'

'Not you - him!'

'Well what can I do?' she whimpers. 'I know I should leave him but I'm just scared. I'm scared of what he might do.'

'You think he'd hurt you?'

'Not me, but maybe himself or Buster. He's threatened before you know.'

'Don't let him get under your skin.' I tear at the paper wrapping from the straw. I roll the little pieces into tiny paper snowballs. 'Just lay it out for him in plain facts: I'm leaving and I'm taking Buster with me and there's nothing you can do about it.' I allow a grin. 'And if he doesn't listen, tell him I'll come round and haunt him!' I wave my translucent arms around like a ghost. We laugh.

We finish our drinks and stand to leave. Marnie smiles.

'You really do look good in this light.' she says then raises her phone high. 'Here, let's have a selfie.'

'While there's still something left of me to see,' I snort.

She snaps the picture then examines her screen. Her smile turns to a frown.

'What is it? I lean over. There on the screen is Marnie with her arm around nobody. The faintest white line suggests my silhouette where the light hits me the brightest, but it looks like a glitch, like a weird reflection, like I've been digitally removed by a bitter ex-partner.

'It's really not fair!' she cries, tilting her phone this way and that. 'It must be the camera, I'll try again.'

'Don't worry.' I force a chuckle, brushing it off. 'The human eye is a lot keener than a camera lens. I should have guessed it wouldn't work.

---

That evening, I slump into a dining chair and spread the consent forms across the table. They want me to wear sensors, to fill in a diary every day, to give blood samples, hair samples, urine samples...

I'm shaken from my thoughts by the thumping of the front door. I know it's Marnie before I answer. She walks straight past me, down the hall, then collapses onto the sofa.

'It's awful!' she sobs.

'What is it?' I cry. 'What's he done?' I wait anxiously for her to regain herself, to wipe snot and tears from her face.

'He kicked me out!' she wails.

'So? Isn't that good?'

'He still has Buster!'

'Oh...'

I boil the kettle; I make milky tea the way she likes it. She sips and remembers to breathe before she tells me the rest of the story. I feel my face redden (not that she could tell) when I learn that he was physical with her.

'Just shoves and pushes, nothing too serious.'

'It's bad enough!' I shout. 'There's no excuse for that kind of thing.'

'Well anyway...' she says, turning her face from me. 'I was wondering, well, hoping really...'

'What? What is it? You want to stay here? You want me to call someone?'

'Well...'

'Come on Marnie, whatever it is, anything!'

'It's just that I'm really worried about Buster and I was hoping you...well, with your situation, you might be able to...'

'I see...' I feel a little sick at the thought of it. She wants me to sneak around in the dark like a ghost. She wants me to kidnap her dog. I slump next to her. I smell the sweetness of her perfume as her head tips gently onto my shoulder.

'You know I would never ask,' she says. 'I hate that I am asking, it's just that you could do it so easily and...'

'It's not a super power Marnie.'

'I know, I know...' The silence that follows says everything. I was always going to do it - before she'd even asked, I was going to do it. 'So will you?'

---

I arrive outside Brian's house at around 10:00pm. It's a mid-terrace, brick-built townhouse with a small square lawn outside which, luckily, the streetlights don't reach. The plan is to ring the bell, stand in the shadows and let the dog run to me when Brian opens the door. I have some raw beef in my pocket which Marnie assured me will attract Buster if he isn't drawn by my own familiar scent.

I take a breath, try to steady my heart. I step towards the door and ring the bell. A porch light flicks on and I'm suddenly more visible than I've ever wished to be. I leap aside and hug the shadows. The door opens inwards. The empty hall breathes in cold night air. Brian takes a tentative step out, turns his head left then right then screws his face, enraged. I hear him struggling with shoes. He storms off into the street shouting profanities at the imagined pranksters.

Where's Buster? I give the faintest whistle. I pull the beef from my pocket and waft it around as close to the open door as I dare. A group of teens are at the bus shelter a few yards away; Brian thinks he's spotted the culprits and marches after them. I take my chance.

A warm yellow light hangs in the hallway. I find the switch and welcome the darkness.

'Buster!' I hiss. 'Buster!'

A faint yelp from upstairs. I waste no time. I take the stairs two at a time and keep calling his name. I try the first door I come to. No Buster, just the hot water tank and a box of carpet tiles.

Scratches and yelps from behind the next door. I turn the handle and the spaniel comes bursting out in a flurry of yelps, licks and leaps.

'Shhh!' I scoop him up and try to silence him. I give him a quick check over - seems ok, but it's dark here. 'He locked you in the bathroom? Sicko!' I smooth Buster's ears and tell him he's going home to Mummy.

The front door slams. My heart races. Brian kicks his shoes off and mutters as he shuffles into the kitchen.

'Let's go!' I whisper. 'Stay quiet!'

I creep down the hall and pause at the top of the stairs to listen. Brian passes in the hall below, a beer in his hand, the other down his pants, scratching. He disappears into the lounge and I make my move.

Wait, I think. I can't resist. I open the door to the hot water tank and pull the raw meat from my pocket. I place the fillet carefully behind the pipe where it won't be seen, but in a few days will be smelled all over the house.

---

Marnie is waiting by the door when I return. Buster leaps into her arms and the two embrace in a chorus of high frequency squeals. I watch in silence until Marnie puts the spaniel down and throws her arms around me.

'Thank you.' she breathes into my neck. We linger, wrapped in our shared warmth. She kisses my cheek. Buster jumps at our legs, commands us to fuss over him and not each other.

We drink more tea. Marnie listens sleepily to my story. Her eyes widen when I tell her about the beef. She laughs behind her hand, gives me a reproachful shove then suddenly her head is on my chest. She mutters incoherent thanks then snores lightly. I place an arm around her. Buster nestles in beside us.

Here in the dark we are all one. I kiss Marnie's head, smell her smell. My eyes tease sleep but I won't give in just yet. I need the moment to last. Who knows what the light of tomorrow will bring? I will be me again; conspicuously translucent. But here in the dark I am as visible as I need to be, as I ever was. Perhaps Marnie will love me the way I wish she would? Perhaps she will learn to cope with my condition just as I must - can I ask that of her? Maybe I'll give that counsellor a call. As sleep finally claims me, I drift into a momentary contentment that I hope will last beyond the morning and the next day, and the next day...