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You have a near miss that almost kills you (maybe you almost got hit by a car, the plane you were supposed to go on ended up crashing, you narrowly dodged a falling piano, etc) and you're thanking your lucky stars that you're alive...until you realize that no matter who you talk to, no one responds to you. Strangers don't hear you on the street, friends don't return texts or calls and no one answers the door when you knock. It's almost like you're a ghost….for the next twenty-four hours, you appear invisible to every other person on the planet but then suddenly, out of the blue, it's like nothing has changed and none of your friends know what you're talking about when you explain the odd phenomenon. Was it all a dream?
He tried calling the office, no answer. He tried to look it up online but the online system was down and when he called support he still got no answer, (and he yelled into his pillow about that for a good five solid minutes). It was like the world was ignoring him. It started that morning when he nearly slammed his bike into a car that decided to speed through the walkway like they had a cop on their tail, (after speeding the red light they sure did two blocks down), but after that, Max started to notice how things began to just… not happen. It was like no one wanted to notice or deal with him but while that was fine, perfect even for his reclusive nature, this was on a whole nother level. By the time it was midday, he was wanting to power up just to find Stella and maybe see if she would pay attention to him. He would love it. But then he berated himself for being so needy- he wasn’t her boyfriend- he wasn’t even sure what he was to her if he was honest with himself. So Max remained as Max, ignored and slowly getting more and more angry as no one paid him mind when he for the first time in months, wanted them too.
It was painful, infuriating, and the culmination by the dusk of evening he finally broke, his rage coming forth as a hate filled scream in the park as he began to terrorize local plant life. Kicking bushed, ripping branches, smashing flowers- it wasn’t people, thank god, he couldn’t afford an assault charge, but he was committing property damage. Yet still, no one noticed him or his actions- which only fueled him more. Eventually he reached a point where he blacked out, coming to his senses later, worn own, bloody knuckled, and a nearby tree with bark ripped off. He knew he’d gone to far, and in his shame, noticed or not, he ran home hiding under his sheets as he tried to calm himself. He was doing so good. Being so good and now this.
No one would remember what he did- but deep inside, Max couldn’t forget that he had lost control all over again.
