Being Me

Chapter Six

(tw: Puking,transphobia, suicidal thoughts(breif).)

As soon as I've done it I regret it, my heart rate spiking and my breaths shallowing.
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
I want to grab it back, slip my hand under the door and snatch, but my hand doesn't fit, I know that, I pull anxiously at my hair as I stand, staring at the door I just pushed my biggest secret under, the secret I've done my best to protect my entire life, that I'm a girl.

I hear something creak and panic, quickly racing back to my room and clicking my door shut before sliding the bolt across for extra measure.

I sit down on my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest.
Why did I do that?
Why?
Why did my idiot self decide to do that?
I've heard the horror stories, I should know better.

It's only when my room is flooded by sunlight that I realize I haven't slept, I muffle a yawn with back of my hand and check the time on my phone, 06:20 it's early, no one will be awake for two more hours.

I thought of going to get something to eat,but decided otherwise and just sat there, staring at the opposing wall, is there still time to grab the note before they read it?
Will this end up being one of those horror stories you read about online?
Will they beat me?
Will I get sent to conversion therapy?
Will they send me to a camp?
How will this affect our already strained relationship?
I feel my breath catch in my throat and shiver, I feel cold but I also like I'm overheating, my stomach is churning like a washing machine set to max, I'm going to be sick.

At that final thought I jump off my bed, slam my door open (still being careful to not wake anyone up) and speed down the landing into the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of my stomach, great, now my throat burns.
I flush the toilet and shuffle over to the sink to rinse my mouth out.

Maybe everything will turn out alright?
I mean, I'm not an optimist but I'm not a realist either.

Silently, and much slower this time, I walk back to my room, the door shutting with a small click behind me.

Breakfast comes and goes and I don't leave my room.
They'd have read the letter by now.
I stare up at my ceiling blankly, listening to the sound of the cars driving by outside, there's a shuffling outside my door then a creak of step before footsteps retreat.
Tiredly, I push myself up into a sitting position and stare at my door, two envelopes.
I'm hit with a spark of excitement and another spark of nerves as a push myself off the bed and snatch the envelopes from where they'd been posted under the door.

I don't know how long I stare at them before I open one, it's from Dad.

Séan, you're my son.

Not off to a good start already.
You're 16,you shouldn't be thinking this far into who you are, it isn't healthy.
Plenty of kids think these things about themselves and they're wrong, it isn't how life works.
Here's the names of a few articles:
*Insert article name*
*Insert article name*
Insert article name*
See, so many people are wrong about it.
And where you say you've been feeling "depressed" I don't see how, you've been perfectly happy, you're hardly threatening to kill yourself.
I think you're just trying to make up excuses for why you're failing in school and you know your mother and I won't put up with that.
Séan you are my son and nothing will change that, especially not a sickness.
Don't you dare mention this to your siblings either, we don't need you tarnishing them with your disgusting thoughts.

I don't dare look at the other envelope, the one from mum, she's always been the easiest to anger out of the two of them, if dad is like this then I don't dare to even peek at the one she wrote.

I fall backwards onto my bed, the world feeling like it's about to end, they don't accept me,they think it's a sickness.
How do I face them now?
How do I face living now?
Maybe if I try to kill myself they'll at least accept that I'm depressed?

I shake my head, pushing the thought away and jump with a start when a loud knock sounds at my door.
"Come in." I call out, sitting up.

Dante opens the door, "hey Séan, I just wanted to say I'm leaving today."

I stare at him, "when?" I ask, stunned.

He checks his watch, "in quarter of an hour," oh. "Look, I just wanted to say goodbye alright? I have to go now, see you around lil' bro."
The door closes and I listen as he hurries down the landing and down the stairs.
Did they tell him?
Did mum and dad tell him?
Is this why he's leaving?
Is he disgusted by me?

An hour after Dante left, mum enters my room.
She doesn't look at me, her gaze hovering over my head, "you have a counseling session tomorrow. No arguments."

No.

No.

Please no.

"Please mu-" I begin, my heart rate picking up as I begin to panic.

"I said no arguing Séan." She says, putting emphasis on my name, or rather the name I was given, it's not mine, never was and never will be,and I want to say that, to shout it at her until she understands, instead I nod meekly and watch as she leaves before bursting into tears, something I've been doing a lot recently.

Most of me is shouting that I don't want to do this, but another part, a small part of me, is quiet, wondering, will this truly help me? Maybe I do need this.
And, maybe if I do this, my parents will finally be proud of me.

[29/09/22]