Flash Fiction: “Nobody’s Business”

Nobody left the toilet unflushed last night.
Nobody left that empty milk carton in the fridge this morning.
Nobody used all of the bread.
I did.
Yeah. I did all of those things.
I am Nobody.
And there’s not one thing any of you can do about it. Because none of you have the slightest idea who I am.
Not one teacher could remember my name at school, or place me at parent teacher meetings for that matter. Speaking of parents, they often forgot to lay a place for me at the table, or acknowledge my birthday.
Waiting staff serve everyone around and behind me in coffee shops and bars.
When I speed, I don’t get pulled over. And when I find myself at a police checkpoint, I just drive on through as if the cops don’t even see me.
Hell, I haven’t paid for groceries in years, just walk on out the door with my cart full.
I’m the next best thing to invisible, even have to push my way through automatic doors.
Does it get me down?
Does it shit.
Better to be a nobody than a somebody.
Somebodies get noticed, get promoted, get awarded, get pay raises, get fast cars, get expensive wives, get big houses, get enemies, get prices put on their head.
By people who need a nobody like me.
The kind of nobody even an infrared camera can’t see, that two Doberman pinschers can’t smell, that can stroll into a master bedroom and squeeze the life out of somebody’s neck without somebody’s said trophy wife batting a well maintained eyelid.
So next time you get that feeling, as you leave your home or walk down that badly lit street, think twice when somebody tries to reassure you with words like these.
“Nobody is out there watching you.”
“Nobody is following you.”
“Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Because I am nobody.
And I’ve been put on this earth to do all of those things.

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