This morning, the world woke up without me.
Daylight crested above the trees, where bird-songs filled the crisp winter air and squirrels began scurrying through frost-bitten yards.
                                                          ­                                Neighbors went about their day, putting children on school buses before bustling themselves to work. The mailman came and left, dropping off packages filled with useless purchases and magazine subscriptions that sit piled in corners, gathering dust.
Hallways filled with swarms of students eager for the final bell. Lockers slammed and classroom seats filled, my desk being the only one left empty
                                                           ­                               (second row from the front, farthest to the right or left, whichever was opposite of the door. Perfect view of the clock, the whiteboard, the teacher, and everyone who entered and exited the room.)
Emails went unanswered, books left unfinished, my room left untouched... a thin layer of dust began to collect atop my existence that went unnoticed.
                                                      ­                                  
Unnoticed by them, unnoticed by you.