The Invisible Man – An Experiment Gone Horribly wrong

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was bored to my wits end with nothing to do but throw pieces of hardened clay around my hinterland neighborhood. This was my usual practice to conquer boredom, but somehow, I always started my assault on Mr. Kipman’s House. Mr. Kipman was the village leader everyone approached to solve their issues. Good ole Mr. Kipman. He didn’t deserve my torment, but what else could a nine year old boy do?   

Seconds before I launched my final blow, I heard a loud explosion which came from Mr. Kipman’s home. My curiosity caused me to dart through the nearby alleyway which lead right to the entrance of Mr. Kipman’s modest home. I was both curious and guilty as I thought I had something to do with the explosion.

No sooner did I shout “is everything ok”, than the cries for help came rumbling from Mr. Kipman’s Home. “Heeelllllpp!......... Helllllllp!” As I approached the entrance of his front door the cry for help became louder and louder still. I pressed the unlocked door that stood before me and bravely entered the unknown, shutting the door behind me, maybe to conceal my wrongdoing. What I saw that day, changed my life forever. I saw Mr. Kipman lying prostrate on the floor of what appeared to be a chemical Laboratory.

[I reflected on the many visits I made to my Father’s chemistry lab at St. Joseph’s High School. My father was head of the science department, before his passing]

I glanced, for a split second, at the beakers, test tubes, Bunsen burners, and the intricate distillation apparatus which came as no surprise to me. I knew them all. This wasn’t just any old lab. I thought, this was the lab of a genius.

While I wrestled to assist Mr. Kipman’s seemingly drained body to a nearby chair, I noticed something very peculiar. His arms and legs appeared translucent, and in an instant, I saw nothing but the chair I lunged him in. His ever-changing molecular structure somehow ceased with Mr. Kipman becoming a compendium of nothingness. I heard a faint voice drifting along the hallway. Mr. Kipman was no more.

I looked around his laboratory and the dark ambience of the space I was in made everything all the more ominous. “Mr. Kipman?” – I timidly muttered, but there was no one there to answer the voice of a confounded child.

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, wondering what to do or who to tell. No one would believe my silly stories, I thought. Even though my ordeal was real, Grandma would only see superstition in my demise. I decided not to tell anyone.

The chair Mr. Kipman was placed in, had slowly begun to fade. I was able to see the stash of cards scattered under the chair for about a moment, and then they were gone.

Fear pushed me in the direction of the hallway leading to the door as I ran as fast as my tiny legs could carry me. I needed to get out, and fast. Heavier and heavier my breath seemed as I approached the entrance from whence I came. I could see a lush garden, glistening in the sun’s splendor, beyond the threshold of the doorway. I lunged to freedom.

BAM! ……..There was darkness.

[I imagined I was in class and Jake, the class bully, kept pounding on my head as I refused to hand over my lunch money.]

I found myself rising to my feet trying to make sense of my situation. [I knew I was at the threshold of the doorway. Could the door have become invisible?]

The lush garden I saw moments ago was darkened by the night sky. But for some reason I was no longer in the building, yet I was in the space the building occupied. Bowing my head in self-pity, I gazed at the beautiful daffodils for a moment but I couldn’t see my feet. I looked about my body as far as my eyes would allow me but I could not see my human form.

 I could hear the faint cries of my grandmother in her Trini- Guyanese accent….”Darius!”...... Where are you?” “I’m here Grandma! I’m coming” ….Grandma was standing outside her gate that dark evening. “I’m coming Grandma”, I shouted.

 As I stood before her trying to explain the situation she kept yelling, “Darius” “Where are you?”

My life changed forever

Twenty-five years have gone by. Grandma has passed on. I’m no longer human, neither am I deceased. I was fortunate not to have been completely destroyed by that chemical blast. I now traverse the globe as a stream of consciousness seeking answers but finding none. What am I?