I am ME [ftm transgender boyxboy]

[8] Start To Fall

“He’s going to be fine Lo,” Jesse said, “Trust me, I know my brother. Don’t worry about it.”

Even as he said this, I could hear the underlying tone of concern in his voice. At least some people could show some hint of care for me, I thought bitterly.

“Lo, I know you’re concerned about Preston. But he’ll be okay. It isn’t a big deal. He just got upset and he needs to deal with it himself. Us interfering isn’t going to help him. Hell, it might just hurt him more,” Mason explained impatiently.

“No!” Lonnie exploded angrily, “He’s shutting down. Whatever fucking happened is breaking him Mase, and I can’t just sit back and watch him die! I know what he’s going through, and you of all people should understand that.”

“Lo,” Mason said miserably, “I'm sorry, I forgot.”

“Whatever,” Lonnie muttered heatedly, “I don’t give a shit.”

Lonnie pushed past them and started towards our room. I heard Jesse murmuring comfortingly to Mason, and I backed into my room, climbing up to my bed just as Lonnie came in.

He paused in the doorway, the light from the living room giving him some sort of ethereal glow. He was already in his pajamas, unlike me, so he didn’t need to change. He just stood there, and I had the strangest feeling he was looking at me.

He started forward and I shut my eyes quickly, before he could see that I was awake. I heard the bed creak and felt it dip as Lonnie climbed up with me for some reason.

I felt his hand softly stroking my hair, and I found myself melting into the touch.

“Preston,” he murmured softly, “I know it hurts. And I’m sorry. I know how it feels to have your parents upset you that badly. I know more than you could ever imagine. But if you think, for even a second that you are alone, you are wrong. I'm here for you, and so are Jesse and Mason. So please…stay strong. Because we care about you, so much,” he choked as he spoke those last few words, “and it would destroy me so completely if something happened to you.”

I bit my lip, trying hard not to sob as that would give me away. He didn’t know I was awake, and I wasn’t going to do something as stupid as cry.

I felt his warm breath on my cheek, almost shivering at the feeling. And that was when I felt his soft lips brush my cheek, lighter than a butterfly’s wing. My face immediately flooded with color and I fought to stay numb.

The bed dipped and creaked again as he dropped from the bed, slipping into his own.

Suffice to say I was in shock. Between the conversation in the living room and Lonnie’s speech, my mind was reeling. I didn’t know what to think, and it hurt.

On one hand, I wished they would all just leave me alone. I didn’t want them to treat me like some charity case. There was nothing I hated more than pity, and I knew that was what they were going to do. Pity the poor kid whose parents hated him. Please.

On the other hand, I longed for a hug. I needed someone to hold me close, and tell me I wasn’t broken. At least, not completely shattered. I wish they would take my hand and promise me I was worth it, worth all the heartache.

 I needed them. I really did. But I didn’t want to need them.

I just need a hug, I thought miserably.

I sighed deeply, glancing down to where Lonnie snored comfortably. I needed to change into my pajamas.

I climbed down carefully, slowly remembering my terror of heights.

I dug through my bag, getting impatient with my lack of findings. So I just dumped them on the ground, and cussed silently when I heard a snapping noise and the tinkling of metal on wood. My razor had broken and the blades were scattered along the floor. I didn’t really pay attention, as I was looking for my pajamas. I tugged on a pair of ratty sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, before looking down again and drawing in a pained breath.

I had subconsciously brought  a family picture with me.

My father smiled proudly, with his arm around my mother’s waist and they each had a hand on one of my shoulders. It was the week Jesse was at camp, so he wasn’t there. My mother beamed at the camera and it seemed to just stab me in the chest as their words echoed in my head.

“You are no longer part of this family. I do not know you. I do not love you and never will. Don’t bother coming back.”

I choked silently, gritting my teeth as the tears threatened to spill.

“This was her idiotic choice. Choosing sin over goodness.”

I couldn’t breathe, it was like my emotions had overflowed and were drowning me from the inside out. I needed to get rid of them; I needed to let it out. I looked around desperately, my eyes landing on the blades that glinted in the dim light.

I gulped. I knew it would work, it needed to. If it didn’t…I would be out of options. At least that’s how it felt.

I scooped up the blades and crawled up to the top bunk, curling into a ball under the blankets. I rolled up my left sleeve taking deep breaths to try and steady my shaking hand.

My mother’s words from that very first day bounced around in my head and pushed me over the edge.

“You look like some kind of cross-dresser! Now what would the people at church think?”

My breath came in as ragged gasps and I sliced the cool metal across my smooth skin, my eyes rolling back into my head at the sensation. I glanced down to see the blood gushing gently from the wound, rolling softly down to my elbow.

I smiled dreamily, loving the feeling of calm that came over me as I made more marks.

It had worked.

Five minutes later I finished, cleaning my arm and tugging my sleeve down as I stretched out sleepily, falling into the abyss that is sleep.