I remember fourth grade, dodging around school, skipping extended care. Fridays. Always Fridays. I was a private eye. I spied on everything, everyone, and kept notes on it all. Eavesdropped conversations. A poorly-timed wedgie pull. I kept base in the girls' bathroom off the main hallway. This is how invisibility became a game, instead of just an impulse. At the same time, in the classroom, I created diversions in my mind. Talk shows. Fate and luck games. Reverse psychology. And in a similar fashion, minus the overly fanciful daydreams, I passed my time here, tearing away an untouchable piece of myself.