Incredible Changes
Chapter 1: Becoming Invisible

Copyright© 2013 by Dead Writer

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Becoming Invisible - David is a apathetic eighth grader who has a very dramatic experience with nature that forever changes his outlook on life and guides his future.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex  

I remember doing this fun thing in school one afternoon when I was in second grade. We were asked to tell what we would wish for if a genie popped out of our milk carton to grant us one wish. My choice was to get a puppy since our dog was hit by the trash truck when I was in preschool. We had to read ours out loud to the class, and I found that getting a puppy or kitten was by far the most common. Kids also wished to be Superman, Wonder Woman, have all the money in the world, be able to turn invisible, get a bigger house with a pool or get whatever the latest cool toy was that they wanted that day.

Thinking back on it now, I never wanted to be invisible. I just wanted to be ignored and left alone by the bullies. I liked to think I became invisible to them instead.

I can’t remember when everything began to change. I think it was during the summer between second and third grades, though. My parents did not live paycheck to paycheck, like some of the kids in my school, but we were not what anyone would call rich either. My parents were always talking about always trying to stick with the budget and not buy anything extra without talking to the other first. Whenever I saw a cool toy, I thought I just had to have right then. They always said I would have to wait until my birthday or Christmas.

When it came to other kids, Mom always made sure every gift I gave was one of the best gifts at birthday parties. That is likely why I received invitations to so many of them. After a while, I discovered the other kids rarely gave a gift as good as mine, not even the wealthiest kids at the party. I asked Mom why she always bought the expensive gifts when no one else coming to the party did. She told me that if I wanted to get good presents on my birthday, I had to give them first.

So here I was at this big party for one of the girls that Mom and Dad said did not have a lot of money. Mom always called the parents of the kid having the birthday party beforehand to make sure I did not give a duplicate gift. She told me the family had been saving for over a year to get their daughter this costly doll. All the girls were begging their parents to get them. I didn’t know anything about dolls, but Mom said it was like the “Cabbage Patch Doll” craze back in the eighties. Mom never told me why she did it, but there was a rare outfit the girl wanted to put on the doll. The doll only had it on for making commercials, in the pictures for the box and all the toy magazines. Somehow, mom miraculously acquired the outfit for this girl’s doll. The girl had so little that she was very gracious and went over to each kid to thank them for her gift. Well, everyone except me.

I was sitting right in front of her as she read the card and then opened the gift. Her face changed to shock before changing to surprise when she realized what it was. She started jumping up and down excitedly before rushing around the room to show it to everyone but me, twice. When we all sat down to have cake, they handed out cake going around the table in both directions. The kids beside me got cake, but they skipped me. I finally got a small quarter-sized piece right at the end, but only because the kid next to me asked for another slice, but had to leave just as they were bringing it.

The kids who remained were sent outside to play party games. I was always at the end of the line and never got a turn until the last game, which was a trick to get us to help clean up. Her mom had party favor bags with each kid’s name on them. She did look for one for me, but I seemed to have been missed and left empty-handed. I knew better than to give it a second thought. Mom had told me repeatedly that this was rude and ungracious. I was there to join in the celebration of their birth with her friends and family.

A few weeks later, I had already forgotten about that birthday party and was going to a pool party for a new kid in the neighborhood. The girl was there with her doll all dressed up in the outfit Mom had magically found for her. I was so happy that she liked it and was starting to go over to tell her I was glad she liked the gift I gave her, but then I heard Mom’s words in my head telling me I must forget such things lest I get upset over something so trivial.

Mom’s words were of no comfort as the girl paraded the doll around to everyone. She was so very excited about how she was the only customer that would ever have this exclusive outfit. There were only nine others, but they were advertising ones that had been glued to the dolls to hold them in certain poses. A girl next to me asked who gave her this rare outfit. She shrugged and said she had no idea, but it was sure someone who had to like her a lot.

Should I get in big trouble with my parents by telling her I gave it to her or go off somewhere to cry?

I never got to decide because we were all called over to watch the birthday boy open his presents. All through the party, he was making sure everyone knew he had demanded his parents buy him cowboy gifts. Mom got him an extra holster and cap gun that matched the ones his parents bought with his gun belt.

The boy was beyond rude! He tore through his gifts, usually ripping through his card in the process. When he got to my present, he tore the box to shreds to get to the extra holster. No sooner than he had it on his gun belt, with the other cap gun, he was running off with a cap gun in each hand. I was positive that I only got cake at this party because there was a piece placed at every seat already. They had a lot of different games, but I never got to play one or win a prize. When I passed the party favor table, I didn’t even take a look at the names on them. I was sure there would not be one for me.

Why am I being excluded as if I brought a poop in a baggie with a bow on it?

When I got home, I told Mom how it kept hurting my feelings every time this happened at a party. She just reiterated that birthday parties were about the kid having the birthday. They were not about the guests or me.

All through the summer, I kept getting invited to birthday parties. Instead of getting excited about going, I just resolved myself to be happy if the kid liked the present we gave them. It didn’t matter anymore if I got a turn to play the games, got a piece of cake, or even got party favors. Dad started taking me aside when I came home after a party to tell me to grin and bear it. He spoke with Mom about it so much that by the end of the summer, I was going to the party, putting my gift on the gift table, wishing the birthday kid a happy birthday and then leaving. To me, I was doing just what Mom lectured me about all summer, but not being upset. Mom never got a call from any parent asking if they had picked me up early because they could not find me.

Even with me not attending the parties, I was still getting plenty of invitations. We had given super gifts at all of them, so Mom wanted to have a monstrous party for me this year. Mom sent out the party invitations a month before my birthday to the kids who had invited me to their parties during the past year. She also sent out party invitations to everyone in the third grade, all the kids in the neighborhood, and even the kids at church. My parents rented out the whole roller skating rink. Usually, everyone expected that we would have cake only for the kids, and they would have to eat before coming, but not my parents. The invitations clearly said the snack bar would be open with us paying for anything the guests wanted to eat. All I found out was that they had spent a lot of money and time to make this perfect for me. The birthday party was my gift from them this year. There was nothing to open, and they did not even try to chase after me when I went off into a dark make-out corner to cry for the first half-hour of the party, hoping that, maybe, by some off chance that someone was going to show up.

No one did. I’m not sure anyone even saw me leave through the side door as I walked the three miles home. It seems that was what Mom finally needed to see to realize what I had been trying to tell her since the start of the summer. I no longer had to go to any birthday parties. Mom would send a note politely declining to attend.

I am pretty sure that it was sometime in the fifth grade when almost all the kids stopped noticing me being around them. Mostly I heard them because I was right there when they were telling each other secrets. Not just little kid secrets either. These were things stealing, peeking in windows, pranking their siblings, and doing other things that would get them in lots of trouble if anyone told on them. To me, it just seemed that either they did not see me anymore, or they were ignoring me. Eventually, I began to believe it was the former.

About the only kids who ever noticed me were the bullies. They were always trying to figure out who they could get away with picking on. I already knew who they all were from the first weeks of school. Some would take a kid’s lunch while others would beat up another kid for lunch money. I can’t remember when it started, only that whenever I neared a bully who would beat me around to get my lunch money, I dropped at their feet and kept on walking. For those who would grab my sack lunch, I handed it to them instead.

Why get all beaten and bruised over the fruit they squished when taking my lunch.

It didn’t take very long before even the bullies began ignoring me holding my milk money in one hand and my lunch in the other. They were more interested in those who cared if they got bullied.

When I started sixth grade, no one seemed to notice me, not even the teachers. I still did all of the homework and took my exams with everyone else, but I was never called upon by the teachers to answer questions. I am pretty sure they didn’t even call my name for attendance after the first day of school. While the rest of the kids got back their corrected homework and tests, I always had to stay after class to get my corrected papers, the same as if I had been out the day before. I even had to get my report card off the teacher’s desk after my last class.

The biggest knock-down, drag-out fight I got into with my parents came from my report card only having my grades on it. All the boxes for behavior and teacher comments were empty. My parents accused me of faking my report card because I had all A’s and B’s. I lost all of my privileges. Anything that used batteries or electricity, except for my lamp, was taken from my room pending the outcome of their parent/teacher conference at school. I got a big apology from both my parents, but it was a long two weeks.

That brings me to today.

I was lost in my thoughts, staring up at the sky, dwelling upon how I never wished to be invisible and how it got like this. A kid tripping over me, driving his knee down into my stomach brought me back to the present. He never even apologized or seemed to notice I was there. He just ran off to get the Frisbee he missed catching because I became an obstacle in his path.

Chapter 2 »

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