[ WP ] You wake up with no memory to a man in a yellow lab coat informing you that you have been sentenced to a lifetime of invisibility .

`` Well, sweet. Nice raincoat by the way.'' 
 
 `` Eugene, you do understand that you are being punished, do n't you?'' Raincoat-guy's eyebrows rose above the clipboard. He scribbled something on it, probably some science jargon about me. 
 
 `` Yeah, sure.'' I stuck my tongue out at him, proud of my childlike insolence. 
 `` I can see you, Eugene. Do n't be rude.'' Raincoat guy tapped the rims of his glasses with his pen. 
 
 `` Or what, doc, you'll give me super strength?'' I craned my neck to see the straps that held my arms and legs down. `` So, um, you going to untie me? Things to do, you know?'' 
 
 `` Well, Eugene, we're going to give you orientation first and then-'' 
 
 `` Look, so long as I ca n't remember my name I might as well choose one I like. Like... Vladimir... or...'' I shrugged, `` Steve''. 
 
 Raincoat-guy's eyebrows raised again. 
 
 `` Yeah... You're right. Lame. Still, beats Eugene.'' Raincoat-guy did more scribbling. `` Oh, and about orientation, do n't bother. I'll only fall asleep anyway.'' I tugged at my restraints. `` How about it?'' 
 
 `` I highly recommend orientation, Eugene-'' 
 
 `` Steve.'' 
 
 ``... Steve. We have a specialist provided to answer any questions you may have and a Re-immersion Program-'' 
 
 `` Look, Bob - can I call you Bob? - right now I'm just really hungry. And I could n't care less about re-immersion and my nose is itching, so please, if you would n't mind, I'd like to go now.'' 
 
 Raincoat-Bob hesitated and he lowered his clipboard. `` Seriously? You're not even a little bit curious what happened?'' His brows scrunched together. `` Well, I mean... alright.'' He set down his board and tucked the pen into his raincoat breast pocket and undid the buckles on my right arm, then my left, then my feet. 
 
 I sat up, rubbing my nose vigorously, stretched, and hopped down from the bed. As Bob fiddled with the straps, I peered at his clipboard. Most of it was illegible, numbers and dates and long, technological sciencey words. Down at the bottom, though, I could make out two distinct words. *Lisa Hartridge*. An image flashed through my brain, silky wind-tossed hair, flushed cheeks, a beaming smile. 
 
 `` Lisa...'' I murmured. 
 
 `` What's that, Steve?'' Bob straightened. I pushed away the clipboard. 
 
 `` Um, pizza? Recommendations?'' Bob blinked at me from behind his spectacles. `` Actually, you know what, never mind. See ya around, Bob.'' 
 
 I strode for the door, and as my fingers connected with the handle another image assailed me. Lisa again, in red. My hand, clutching a knife. Red. 
 
 I clung to the handle. And slowly, ever so slowly, opened the door to a new, lonely life.
