I think it's ironic how I used to wish to be invisible. I'd run around masking my eyes with a transparent cloak, freed from the watchful eye of my parents. I guess there really is a god because I got my wish. 

     "If you could have one super power, what would it be?" This was asked by thousands of children with sparkeling eyes, wondering what it would be like to be different than the rest. I used to dream of being a translucent entity, able to wander the streets without even so much as a glance from a passerby. I could do anything, go anywhere. 

     Years passed, though, and I am no super hero. I hold no villainous powers, either. But I am invisible. Everyday, I drag my cloak behind me, hoping to wear it out until it becomes too tattered to hide me any longer. My shoulders ache from the weight and my neck itches on the days it is tied too tightly but I continue on. There is no way to remove this cloak of invisibility, no buttons to undo or zippers to unzip. I'll just keep hoping that one day this suffocating fabric will fall to my ankles and I'll know what it's like to be seen again.