The Adventures of Invisible Girl Edit

Starring Mary Alice Somers and the iCarly Wiki Users

Hey, it's Invisible Girl.

Now you probably just said to yourself,"Wait, who?"

Well it's okay that you don't know me now, but you will pretty soon.

And anyway, you don't have to know me for me to know you.

So what is this blog, you may ask? Well, it's a story. And I thought, "Hey, everybody's making story blogs these days, so why not?" They're the in thing, plus it's an easy, convenient way for me to share what I'm about with everyone here.

No one knows who I am and I'm fine with that. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to tell a story. A story about what it's really like to be a member of this wiki without popularity. This story is mainly for those of us who are too afraid, too insecure to go on chat. Too intimidated to post our opinion in comments for fear of being attacked, ridiculed, or accused of starting drama.

But it's also a story for those of you who are the populars on this wiki. The cliques. Maybe this will change the way you guys think, because when you ignore newbies, it hurts. You don't know what our lives are already like and to ignore us? We need friends just as much as you guys do.

This is not to call anyone out and this is not to pick on anybody. But I'll let it be known now that if you are a well known user (or regularly in the chatroom) on this wiki that the chances are, you'll most likely appear in this story.

Before I let you get on reading, let me say that no, I am not a 'stalker,' a 'troll' or anything of the sort. I've been on this wiki for two years, but have never been noticed once. By noticed, I mean that no one has made the effort to befriend me. I was ignored while everyone chatted on about things that I didn't understand (randomness, inside jokes, things of that nature). I will admit that once a user named @SpencerFanGirl123 once greeted me "hiya" and another user, @MirandaCosgroveFan13, gave me quite a generous hug, and once @MarcTechGuy1313 asked if I was okay, but that's it. No one screams my name when I come on chat, no one is excited to see me. It's like I don't exist.

This isn't my regular account. I made this account, It's Invisible Girl, to tell my story. On my other account no one knew who I was anyway, so I'm done with it. This is me from now on. I'm done hiding.

Publishing this story blog was hard for me because I was finally exposing my true feelings. Something that I'd never dare do in my real life, which this story is based off of. But I think that by doing this, sharing my work with you, the public, has helped me in the end. I think I'm finally growing.

I've talked long enough.

Here's chapter one, which I've titled The Curse of Invisibility...

Chapter One, The Curse of Invisibility

I was relieved when the last bell rang on Friday and I was free from school for the weekend. I hated that place, school. And not for ordinary reasons, like I got too much homework or I never got good grades. I hated school because I had no friends. That afternoon I escaped the dull school grounds with my gray hoodie covering my head and the heavy rain to mask myself under. Not that anyone would see me anyway. And of course I, being me, slipped twice in the last two blocks alone. When I finally made it to my front porch, my right knee was bleeding.

All in all, things were same old.

School was awful. I was cornered during gym and Susanna and her posse targeted me with dodge balls. It was hard to walk without a limp. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to get inside and get on the wiki. If anything, it would take my mind off of my horrible day.

Dizzy and lightheaded with hunger, having foolishly spent previous lunch money on other less important things, I hurried home. I silently prayed that my grandma was cooking.

I doctored my knee using the first-aid kit my grandpa keeps in the bathroom. The sting of the alchohol against my skin was a good, clean stinging. Anyway, it hurt a lot less than the pain of coming home every day with nothing to look forward to but to go back to school the next day.

Just as I was fitting a bandaid over my newest self-injury, I startled myself at the sound of my grandma's voice out in the hall.

"That you, Iggy?"

"Yes, ma'am!" I called back, working frantically to pull the ripped knee part of my jeans up, covering the bandaid.

"Help me set up dinner, girl."

"Yes, ma'am! Just a moment, ma'am!"

I washed my hands carefully under the faucet. Scrub, rinse, repeat.

I splashed my face a few times and patted it dry with a clean towel.

I didn't like what looked back at me from the mirror.

I was a "Plain Jane" child with mouse-colored brown hair and brown eyes. I wasn't ugly, but if you saw me on the streets or in a really big crowd, you wouldn't give me a second glance.

I dried my hands and made my way into the kitchen. It smelled like my grandma was making beef stew. Again.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling as hungry as I did five minutes ago.

If you're wanting a visual right about now, think about what the home of a retired construction worker who liked to collect scraps of wood would look like if he was married to a dull old woman who liked antiques, sewing quilts, and doing crossword puzzles in her free time.

That's what my grandparent's house looked like.

The hall was a dreary, outdated yellow room with peeling wallpaper and breakables everywhere. Statues made of mostly glass and vases and just about anything else that would shatter at the slightest disturbance. My grandma always got nervous when I walked through the hall to my room because she thought I would break something one of these days. She thinks I'm just some clumsy kid. Not that she'd be wrong.

I almost tripped over a pile of firewood on my way to the kitchen sink. I grabbed onto the faded curtains to balance myself. Frumpy old curtains that my grandma had sewn over twenty years ago hung from every corner of the kitchen even though there were no windows. I straightened up, hoping my grandma didn't see that and moved on to her side. The wooden floorboards creaked under my every step.

The house looked twice as dreary when it rained.

My grandma was standing at the counter chopping carrots in time to the sound of rain hitting on the roof. My grandma, her name was Anna and she preffered me to call her that, but I liked calling her grandma better. It felt more home-like somehow. My grandma didn't look like her name should be something as gentle as Anna, I'll admit.

She was a hard woman. In her early sixties and she wasn't slowing down a bit. She hardly ever sat down or even rested for that matter. Grandma was always on the move doing something to keep this family going. I can't think of one time she actually relaxed for more than a few minutes during the daytime.

Grandma barely looked up.

"How was school?" She was only asking because it's the proper thing to do. I knew it and she knew that I knew it. She was a smart woman, after all.

"School was alright, Grandma,"

"It's Anna."

I didn't respond to that.

"What can I help with?" I snatched up an old apron and began to tie it around my waist.

"You can just set the table," she paused. "Would you, dear?"

Because adding a term of endearment every so often made us more of a family.

Oh, the agony.

"Okay, Grandma."

I set the table obediently, and when my grandma reminded me that I forgot napkins, I fetched those, too. I was fast. The table was set in a minute. I swore to myself the moment I was sent to live with my grandparents that I wouldn't be a burden to them. They never had very much money to begin with, but I knew that a teenaged girl would put a brand new hole in their finances. In return for the trouble I would cost them in the long run, I made up for it by making myself useful at home.

Of course that didn't stop our funds from being constantly very low. So low that we had beef stew just about every night. Anything else for dinner was a rare treat.

"What else can I do?" I offered.

"Go on to your room till your grandpa gets home. Go on, now," She looked at me full on finally and seemed startled. "Good heavens, girl. You're all wet!"

"The rain-" I tried to explain.

"Get yourself out of those wet clothes before you catch cold!"

"Yes, ma'am.."

I heard my grandma huffing and muttering in the kitchen as I went away.

"That girl would be sick in a minute. I'd have to spend ten whole dollars on cold medicine. Lou and I already work long hours to get that girl into college in this godforsaken economy. Almost senior citzens, working as hard as we are and she wants to go on and get sick..."

So much for not being burdensome, I sighed.

When I flipped the light switch in my room, things didn't look any less dim.

I had to plug up a lamp just to see the floor. I couldn't ask grandpa to change my lightbulb for me with his bad back. I'd have figure out how to do it myself later. After changing into warm, dry clothes I looked around me.

I had a ton of homework to do and I already decided I wasn't gonna touch it tonight. I was too lazy, too tired, and my appetite was starting to creep back.

I just wanted to lay back and dream about my crush at school, Edgar. I closed my eyes and imagined his dark hair and eyes. I imagined that one day he'd approach me and he'd talk to me for five whole minutes and remember my name this time.

We'd only spoken once and that was on the first day of school. I've had this memory stored up in my mind for so many years, I could tell it to you backwords.

I had come into the classroom early and he caught my eye first thing. I seemed to have caught his, too, because he didn't hesitate to come and greet me.

"Hi, I'm Edgar." He had smiled. I liked his smile. He didn't show teeth, he kept his lips pressed together and he had a little dimple in his left cheek.

"Hi," I took a deep breath. I wasn't going to make a fool out of myself. This time, my shyness wouldn't overcome me. I was so determined then.

"I'm-" I began.

"Mary Anne Somers," He said. "First day of school can be scary. You'll fit right in though."

Man, how I wished he could have been right about that.

"It's Mary Alice," I corrected. "You can just call me Iggy. Everyone does.'d you know my name?"

"Everyone does. Small town," He winked at me and went to go sit down.

We had talked for thirty-one seconds. I had been counting in my head. Thirty-one seconds of magic. Since then, he never said much to me aside from an occassional greeting. I was too shy to say anything more. I don't think I've ever even started a conversation with him before, it was always the other way around.

I tried to think of what I would say to him if ever we were to have a few minutes alone. Were he ever to have a moment where he wasn't surrounded by his friends. If only...

But I came to terms with it a long time ago-- I, Mary Alice Somers, am socially awkward.

Oh well.

The sound of the front door swinging open and wet boots squeaking on the porch made my eyes fly open.

I ran into the family room, where my grandfather was hanging up his coat and hat.

"Grandpa!" I ran to hug him.

"Iggy, how's my girl?"

"I'm doing great grandpa,"

He smiled.

I always said I was doing great even when I wasn't. I figured if it made my grandpa feel like it was worth it to raise me, then what's lying about my happiness gonna hurt?

I took his hands. "Are we going fishing tomorrow? It's the weekend."

"Not this time, Iggy. My back can't handle it and I've cleaned enough fish today for a week."

"Okay, grandpa." I tried not to sound disappointed.

Fishing with grandpa was the only time in this boring little town in Ashwick Falls, Arizona that I even remotely had fun. Grandpa was warm and kind and he tried to connect with me on an emotional level. Something my grandma had never tried. She was always too busy making sure I had enough food to eat and dry clothes to wear. As far as I knew, she just felt like she had to do her duty to my parents. Sometimes I wondered if she really loved me or even liked me for that matter.

Grandpa patted me on the back and proceeded into the kitchen.

"What is that heavenly smell?" He sniffed the air and winked at me.

I stifled a giggle. It was a little joke we had between us. Not that we'd ever mention it in front of grandma who took pride in the fact that her beef stew managed to be cheap, healthy and delicious.

"That you, Lou?" I heard Grandma say.

"Yes, ma'am. Is that stew? My favorite."

I didn't want dinner anymore, I just wanted to get on my computer and get on the wiki, but I ate my serving of stew anyway. When I didn't eat, Grandma thought I was sick and that was never good.

I washed my bowl and excused myself.

I just wanted to spend my weekend alone. Not that I had any choice. But if I had to be alone, I wanted to be in my sanctuary. My bedroom.

It's about the size of a normal kid's clothes closet, but I love it because I worked very hard to make it mine.

When I moved into to this house eight years ago, this room had been cluttered with old things. Clothes, books, antiques, you name it. I personally cleaned it out and Grandpa helped me move my mom's old matress in here for me to sleep on. I sketched and water-colored pictures to go on my wall since I hadn't bought any pictures with me and this house didn't have a printer.I spent the last bit of change I had in my pockets to buy a pack of those glow-in-the-dark stars that you stick on to your ceiling. When the lights are off, my ceiling looks like the night sky. I didn't even have to use a ladder to put them up, I just stood on my bed, the ceiling is that low.

I kept my books piled in a corner since I don't have a bookshelf. I have a little chipped wooden desk that I do my homework at and the desk was cluttered with sketches and paintings. I moved the artwork to my bed and underneath it all was my laptop. I have an HP computer that I got for my fourteenth birthday from my grandparents. It's a crappy computer especially compared to a Mac, but it's my only way of entertaining myself when I'm on my own. At least there's internet connection.

I don't know why I did it.

But I've been wanting to all day. I was bored, I didn't want to do my homework, and I was still starving after half a bowl of beef stew.

But I did it.

Let's face it, I was addicted.

I got on my laptop and on google typed in iCarly Wiki.

Why did I do this? Why was I subjecting myself to the torture of an online community when I know that I won't ever be noticed there?

iCarly...I user to watch that show when I first joined the site two years ago. I stopped a while ago because it was no longer cool for someone my age to like that show, but I still stayed on it's Wikia page. It was like a different world there; away from the kids at my school and my grandparent's boring, leaky house. But it wasn't like anyone cared about me or even knew me, so what was I doing?

I typed in my username and password and scanned the chatroom to find that around 10 users were on. It was a feature that had been added last year. At first I thought that it would help me make friends on the wiki, but I quickly saw that instead it just made things worse. Thanks to this thing, users got even more tightly knit and formed little cliques, making it harder for me to talk to anyone. I came on chat around once a week and I always left within five minutes.

But why did I keep going back? Was I that pathetic? That lonely?

Wiping tears that I didn't even know had fallen, I entered the chatroom. I was instantly frozen, watching the chat move a thousand miles per hour as the subjects were split. A few users were discussing some band, two more were discussing some movie I'd never seen, and the rest were talking about something entirely random.

Neveischeese and Seddiafoeva were having a friendly shouting match, but it spammed up the chat and made me lag so much that I almost decided to just leave. But then I thought maybe I should at least try and say something. It might get me noticed...

"I'm so hungry xP" I typed.

My comment had disappeared in a sea of new comments in under 5 seconds. I stared at the screen for many more minutes, my eyes tearing up again as I watched everyone chat. PurpleJerk was trying to get Yoshi to ask out some girl in real life, TaraBridgette was saying something about Samlovestart...whatever that was... I sighed and exited the browser. It was one thing to be invisible in real life, but online, too?

I felt like hurling my laptop across the room, but I controlled myself and shut it off, climbing between the sheets instead, closing my eyes tight. I would go to bed early tonight.

I dreamed that I was at school.

I was wearing designer jeans and a camisole. My enemy, Susanna, was dressed identically to how I was yesterday; in torn, faded jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was lank and limp, dull. That was just unnatural. Susanna's hair was never not perfect. What was going on? My hands flew to my hair and it felt soft and silky. When I walked, it bounced, long blonde curls brushed my shoulders.

Wait, blonde? I was blonde? I ran my fingers through the tips of my hair, which was a bright yellow color. It was as if I was Susanna, but I was me at the same time.

I smirked at her, standing across from me, dressed like me.

But it was her. I could tell from the eyes, which were still frightening even in my dreams.

She mirrored my smirk. "So you think you're all big and bad now that you're not in rags, huh, Mary Alice? Well it doesn't work that way. Not at my school." Her sneer was nasty and it was easy to forget her attire. She was still Susanna.

"Be gone!" I held out my hands to her and immediately she disappeared, but I still heard her voice.

"What did you do to me you loser!" She shrieked frantically.

I gave a laugh that sounded so unlike mine. So cold. Like hers.

"Let's go, Iggy," there was Susanna's best friend, Lanie, smiling at me as if we were best friends.

"Let's ditch her."

It was empowering, frightening, and amazing all at once. I looped arms with Lanie and we left the now invisible Susanna behind in the hallway, screaming threats at me about how she'd get me back for this.

The dream changed and I was in the chatroom on the iCarly Wiki. I knew it was the chatroom, but it looked different. It was a white room and chairs lining the walls. People, users from the wiki, were sitting in them talking to each other.

"IGGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Churchpants screamed the moment I entered. "Hi..." I started, stunned.

"Hey Iggy!"

"Iggy, hi!"

I froze.

People were talking to me. They were noticing me. I felt something in my chest. A light, bubbly warm feeling. But I didn't get to feel it for long or even respond to any of the users who were making their way towards me...

My eyes flew open. It was Saturday morning and my clock read 9:40 am. In the light from the window I could see my water colored pictures of Invisible Woman on the wall. Her blue eyes were intense, almost intimidating, in the shadows. I stared at her face, feeling hopeless.

"Why can't I be more like you?" I asked the painting.She stared back at me silently. "Of course, I'm invisible to you, too...don't bother answering me..."

Mumbling to myself, I turned over on my side, wishing that I really did have the power to turn others invisible.

Issue 2 should be up by next Saturday.

Invisible Girl, signing out for now.

The Invisible Girl blogging for justice! 00:48, June 30, 2012 (UTC)Invisible Girl

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