Tazz's head ached and burned as his eyes squinted through the golden light filtering through the only window in his bedroom. He didn't remember much of anything from last night other then drinking too much stolen booze from the liquor store down the road and sitting on his roof for a few hours and just staring into the night sky. He didn't know if he had done anything else stupid other then sleeping in his binder, which he knew he would desperately regret later. In fact, he felt it now, as his chest felt sore and ached from the fabric that helped him cope with his ever lasting body dysphoria.
The boy had to admit though, he'd rather feel pain in his ribs then start aggressively vomiting at his own body, which has and will still happen from time to time.
Tazz, (in his hung over state and aching chest and sudden need to vomit all of the contents of his already killed stomach) knew he had to get up at some point. To get clean and let his body breathe and work out if he was going to smoke a shit load of weed in the bath or just take some pain pills and work it out later when he had to face his parents and friends and actually be alive. Until then, he stumbled out of bed and into the convenient bathroom his parents had installed in the attic so he could clean without drenching the entire house in water. Tazz opted for a bath, plugging the drain and making sure the water was hot enough to sting but not hot enough that his skin would be red and uncomfortable for the next two hours. Before getting in the bath, he got undressed and rummaged through the pull cabinet to find a bottle of ibuprofen and take at least four to five of the little burgundy pills. And with his hungover on it's way to being fixed, he slipped into the bath, and tried to count all of the cracks in the tiles to distract his brain from thinking of anything other then the burning of flesh and the dulling ache in his skull.
-
Myah wakes up with the notion that she, is bleeding uncontrollably out of her vagina. Her head is pounding and her stomach is churning and she feels like cotton balls were stuffed into fresh wounds on her lower back and abdomen. She knew she couldn't lay in bed forever, considering the fact that her bed was all too warm and sticky and just nasty. She knew she wouldn't remain conscious for too long, and she new what was to become of her if she didn't do anything. Thinking hazily she grabbed her phone and texted her mom;
Myah:
'Bleeding, can you get the bucket and pills?'
Mother Unit:
'I'll be in in 3 minutes'
Myah whined and moaned as huge waves of pains shot through her entire body. Ignoring them, she slowly sat up and made her way to the bathroom that was just across the hall, grabbing a thicker pair of pajama pants and an already ruined pair of underwear on her way over. She was covered in thick dark blood, remembering that this was the disgusting reality of being born with ovaries and a vagina instead of a penis that would just maybe get hard in the morning and wake up with a wet dream once or twice. At this moment she had never been more envious of the male genitalia as she cleaned herself with a baby wipe, changing into new comfortable clothes and just longing to go back to bed.
In all reality, Myah looked almost as disgusting as she felt in that moment, her hair and face were slicked shiny with oil and grease, her entire body cold, clammy, and pale, and her usual red undertones were seemly taken away and her complexion looked dark and sick. She definitely felt sick, her body felt like it was eating itself alive as she slowly made her way back into her room and collapsed on the bed. She felt like she was going to pass out and her entire body had gone cold and all she could sense is the pain in her abdomen and her rapid breaths that seemed to be helping her none. Not even seconds later, her mom walked into the room, with a bucket, a glass of water (without ice because her mom knew that the cold made her cramps worse), three little pills, and a piece of buttered toast that would be ignored until Myah woke up from her coma in six to seven hours. With a weak smile and a nod to her mom, she grabbed the bucket and nestled it into her bed, took the pills and set the toast and water on her bedside table. She then begun busying herself with trying to get comfortable, finding a position that didn't make her cramps worse but also a position that was comfortable to the rest of her body too, she didn't want to wake up to two legs that had fallen asleep and an arm that was sore from being lain on.
And just when she had found a comfortable position, all of the contents in her stomach (which still was three pills, a little sip of water and way too much stomach acid) found itself way into the bucket conveniently placed right next to her head. Then after catching her breath and spitting out the sour taste of bile and Advil, all Myah seemed to know, is sleep.
-
Tazz found it very awkward to be around his parents anymore. Not that they were extremely bad people per-se, he just didn't want to look them in the eye and have to deal with dead names and misgendering and the absolute torture of not knowing weather he was going to have a decent day or one that left him under the local playground slide off his ass trying to count how many of the wood chips move with his vision. Tazz just decided he wouldn't end up under the slide today, and made himself some toast and scrolled through his social media trying to get all of the notifications off of his phone. Because nothing made him more anxious then unread messages and unseen notifications. When he clicked onto Snapchat and saw all of the messages, he got a tad bit overwhelmed, so he just went in order of how much he didn't care about the person to how much he did, always saving the only pinned conversation for last so he could prepare himself for what ever lied behind that stupid little notification.
And what lies behind that message you may ask? Nothing. No text, just a picture of a ceiling covered in fairy lights and the forehead of an all too pretty girl that Tazz may or may not have a crush on. It didn't matter though. It never does. Tazz sent back a face that looked completely miserable eating his toast, with a "good morning" written in the classic Snapchat bar. And just like that it was sent to the girl with the all too pretty face who would never even dream of dating Tazz.
Or so Tazz believed.
Because to everyone else, they looked like the perfect match, but that still didn't matter to Tazz and his overactive brain.
And instead of worrying about the text sent to Myah, because he knew she was never up this early, he sent another, to his best friend since he was emo and "just perfected to write in the guys point of view" in shitty emo band imagines.
"you dtf later bbg ;)"
