Disappear here

The apartment she had found was located in a busy street in the middle of a bustling neighborhood, mostly working class. 18 stories high, 6 flats per story, 3 to either side of the elevator. No one bothered to greet their neighbors in the staircase; there was an unspoken agreement to live and let live. Between flats that were rented out on AirBnb, flats that were continuously under construction and flats that smelled like old smoke and the bittersweetness of death, no one stayed longer than 2 years in this building. It served as a temporary refuge where people caught their breath before going for the next big thing, as the jumping board to something newer, nicer, brighter. Sometimes though, it was also their last step before further descending into something worse. To her, it was exactly what she had been looking for.

Having lived in a small town with eyes full of judgment upon her, upon people in general, for most of her life, the city had always held an unspoken promise out to her: escaping into complete anonymity. Disappearing into a sea of bodies, falling in line with thousands of ideas, being invisible, being one of many. First and foremost, finding an apartment in a busy building where tenants change often and no one bothers to say hello on the stairs.

5 weeks ago, she had just upped and left. She had felt this coming for the past 20 years. However, she could not say what the defining moment on that particular Tuesday morning had been or why she hadn’t left earlier. The minute she had opened her eyes, she felt an urge that could not be addressed with reason, she had no choice but to obey. She had gotten up and packed two large suitcases, mostly clothes, a couple of books. What little furniture she owned she had listed only for sale or to give away for free to speed up the process, the unsellable stuff and nostalgic memorabilia dumped in the garbage. Not a fan of extensive goodbyes, she had just sent a simple group text to her friends telling them that she had found a new job in the city far away and would leave for it immediately. Their small minds couldn’t grasp why after almost 40 years of peaceful life here, one would want to leave out of the blue and exchange it for the noise and chaos of the city. She did not expect them to understand and ignored their questions and muted the group when they were trying to organize a last minute farewell party for her.

Saying goodbye to her mother, the only family she had left, the one reminiscent of her past, had been both easy and hard. On most days, her mother would not even recognize her own daughter anymore or confuse her with her sister, believing both of them were still kids and it was a summer day in 1958. The day she came to the nursing home to say goodbye was one of those days. As she leaned in to place a tender kiss on her mother’s wrinkled forehead, she knew that her mother would not miss her. Once she was out of sight, the last traces of her would vanish from her mother’s memory.

Second, no more meaningful relationships as they risk becoming too close and all of a sudden she would be trapped in a web of expectations she had no capacity and no intention to fulfill. She dreaded being recognized at parties by friends of friends or an old affair and being asked too many questions about why she was here and what her plans were and why she had left. Better to keep to oneself, engaging in meaningless small talk only and quick sex at parties in a grimy toilet stall, never fully undressed. Don’t let anyone peak behind the curtain. Be the person without a past.

The job she had found as a sales rep in a huge telecommunication call center was as bland as it sounded. She clocked in at 8:30, made calls in her cubicle until 12, using an alias instead of her real name, common practice in call centers. Half an hour lunch break, either at her desk or with the chatty girls from the customer service team. They talked a lot, favorably about themselves so no one bothered to probe her with private questions as long as she laughed along with the others, asked the occasional meaningless question and got praised as an excellent listener. Out by 5 pm sharp, the rest of the day, the weekends and 25 days of vacation full of absolute freedom to herself.

On weekends she went grocery shopping in a huge superstore, buying all she would need for the week. She would roam the city and its many stores, bookshops, cafés and bars. In the evenings, she would go out for drinks. If the night went well, continue to a club, dancing until sunrise. Dancing with complete strangers, feeling their bodies against hers, smelling their sweat and their breath and spilled beer, as they moved all together up and down and sideways, like fish in a coral reef, was a calming sensation.

Third, adopt the attitude of not caring. Be above judgment. Blend in easily, do not stare at what other people are wearing or doing and enjoy complete carelessness from their side in return. No need to put on a mask, just wear an expressionless face, bland, unmoved, uninspiring. Be like the beggar in the street, the most ignored person in any city. She often imagined what would happen if she were to be caught up in a crime scene and police would be looking for her as a witness. She was pretty confident that no one would be able to even describe her. A woman in her forties, average sized, always dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt, mouse brown hair. Could be anyone.

It had been 5 weeks since she came to the city. She was sitting in front of one of the many interchangeable cafés in her neighborhood - monstera plants in the corners, hand lettered menu in white on a black chalkboard, avocado toast and flat white, baristas, owners and names changing every other week. People were passing by, minding their own business, caught up in their own daydreams or more pragmatically in their phones. They might be her neighbors, she wouldn’t know and neither would they. She checked her phone. No new messages since Sunday. Sunday had been 5 days ago. She nodded, satisfied, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes against the warm summer sun. Her erratic behavior and her irregular responses had driven even the most persistent of her former friends away. She was successfully starting to sink into sweet oblivion.