The night is dark and cold. Eddie is rolling around the bed, sweating profusely. His body is warm, bound by bandages on his chest, one of the corners almost free from the tight hold, his hair is messy and wet from the sweat. He is dreaming, his mother is yelling at him for something that he didn't do as his father is passed out drunk on the living room couch. The house smells of booze and cigarettes, random clothes lying on the filthy carpet, shattered glass bottles and coke residue scattered around the main room floor. He feels a sharp pain on his left cheek and looks up at his mother, her hand still raised up in the air. She yanks his long hair and drags him to his room. The small space is as filthy as the rest of the house. Months if not years worth of trash and dirt. His mom pushes him onto his bed screaming "You're such a disappointment! I never even wanted a daughter!" Her words sting twice as much because of the fact that he's not a girl. He never has been. He never understood why people called him that, for as long as he can remember he felt like a boy, but it's as though there was the word "girl" written on his forehead. His mom stormed out of the room and as she banged the door, Eddie woke up.
The sun was already up, light streaming in through the hole on the curtain. He sat up in his bed, all sweaty and wet. He groaned and went to his closet, picked out a few random clothes and went to the bathroom. His bandage was almost completely unwrapped, as he looked in the mirror, and saw it not hiding his chest, his cheeks became red as he tried to look at anything else besides the mirror. After a few moments he forcefully looked up at his reflection again and started fixing the bandages he's been wearing for almost a week now. He pulled it even tighter than usually and tied a knot in the back, hoping it won't slip off again. Then he washed his face and changed his clothes, fixed his hair in the mirror, put on a few rings and got out of the bathroom.
Wayne was home from work after a long night shift, snoring on the couch. Eddie walked over quietly to the kitchen and started making himself some breakfast. He cracked a few eggs into the pan and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, taking a big sip from the bottle. After a few minutes he put the eggs onto a plate and quietly ate them as fast as he could. He had plans.