11:30 am.
My name is Ethan Connors, I am transgender.
I came out when I was eleven, about five years ago.
The name Carlea leaves the taste of sour milk in my mouth; not even milk could remove.
I live with my Aunt Mabel, she is the only living family member I have left.
If the rest of my family were alive, I don't think I would have ever come out. Mom, Dad, Uncle Carl and my cousins.
"Stop thinking about them." a voice whispers in my head.
Around the age of six, my personality developed. My brain flooded with these other thoughts. My old psychologist said I was fine, she told me I would just forget about it.
I won't ever forget.
My family inheritance sent me to a k-12 private school; a place my aunt could never afford. Sunny-Rivers Private School is much fancier than the public schools hours away from the island I live on; the Mainland is more like a financial district to Sunshine Island.
I ride my poorly painted bike to school each day; I found it in my Aunt's Apartment complexes parking lot "The Sunday's Dream", abandoned and lost.
Like I've always been.
---
I snap back to reality, my brain hazy and confused.
I must have fallen asleep again.
Lifting my head off the desk, I look around, trying to get some context of what I missed. I see Jaqolynn with her eyes wide.
My only friend; Jaqolynn Heart, has known me for years. After exams her ponytail sways side to side in a judging manor; never the same color.
She always told me hair dye was just how she expressed herself.
It's only because her parents own an old convenience store, giving her large amounts of dye.
"What?" I whisper to her, leaning into the isle between our desks.
Thank goodness we both sit at the back of the class together. Our classmates use slurs sometimes, Jaqolynn keeps me away from them. She tells me of how she wants to be with the popular kids, but because I'm weird they don't speak to her.
I shouldn't drag Jaqolynn down as being weird, she just has two moms.
"You totally aced this test! How do you do it?" She jabbers a bit louder than I would have liked. My misty brown eyes glance down at my paper.
Her hair is blue.
I shrug. Bright blue sticky notes cover my textbook; every spare space in my matching History binder. Each note covered in cursive dark blue ink.
I hate blue pens; I don't own one.
I don't even remember reading any of this textbook, yet these notes must be mine, right?
Maybe I sleep-work? Then again, that explains how I even function after getting zero nights of sleep for the past 10 years. I barely make it through any classes without a nap.
I turn back to Jaqolynn. "I don't exactly remember, but you can read through my notes later, I guess." Grasping deep into my mind, trying to recall the memories.
The bell rings. I grab my books, sliding them into my bag.
"It's styled after traditional Japanese school bags, it's like a giant purse that is just big enough for all the books, we just adore the navy color. We prefer it over any other bag, just slinging it over his shoulder is much quicker for someone who is always late, like us." A quiet whisper in my head.
