Kitty had always been quiet. She elt fragile around people. She felt like she was made of glass, that she could be broken and shattered. She felt transparent, that people could see through her and would shove her violently aside and use her for their own purposes; think she was an empty space that they could fill with whatever they wanted; judge her reality as worthless, and easily dismissible.
So she kept to herself. She held herself off, built walls and barriers. She disguised herself as much as possible because she did not want to break and she did not want to be obliterated. She lived in a secret world, where no one could see in.
But after a while she couldn’t see in either a good part of the time.
Her sadness and isolation is evidenced in her eyes at times. Sometimes they are blank though; veiled, inscrutable, indecipherable.
But deep down, there is a part of her that knows there is something else. Something other than THIS. Sometimes, she catches glimpses of it.
Sometimes her eyes get a focused look to them, a door opens, light comes shimmering through the cracks.
Sometimes she wants someone to see inside. She made herself invisible, but she is tired of being invisible. She wants someone to come in, who is different than the others. She wants to be safe and held. She is tired of disappearing.