Dear Ashton Hansen

Chapter 1

Ashton's P.O.V

Dear Ashton Hansen,

Today is just going to be another day, writing about it being good or bad or whatever the fuck else isn't going to help you feel less anxious or less stressed or less like crawling out of your skin and cutting your chest off so you don't have to feel the constant weight of titties on your ribs. But hey, at least try to be nice to people today, alright? At least talk to someone. Not Jared though, he's an ass and always makes you feel worse about yourself. He's not a good friend, why are you still friends with him? Never mind... anyway, just try your best alright?

Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,

Me.

I shut my computer and shoved it into my backpack, before taking my backpack and myself down the stairs to breakfast. I wasn't hungry though. I was never particularly hungry in the mornings. My stomach always liked to twist up in knots while I was sleeping, so I'd always wake up feeling like I was gonna vomit. I quickly learned that I would vomit if I actually ate breakfast, so I often waited until I was part way through my second class at school, and then I'd eat something small, like a granola bar or trail mix.

"Bye mom"

I mumbled, heading towards the door without so much as a second glance in my exhausted mother's direction.

"Bye sweetie, don't forget about writing those letters for Doctor Sherman!"

I felt irritation wash over my body at her reminder.

"I know mom. I already am."

I gritted my teeth and sighed quietly. Just because I forget some things didn't mean I would forget everything. Jeez.

"I was just reminding you sweetie. Have a good day at school!" My mother smiled at me as I rolled my eyes and walked out the door.

"I'll try my best."

And with that, I was on my way to the shithole that was school. Don't get me wrong, I liked some of my classes, it was just awkward being pretty much the only trans kid there. It's tough to pass as a guy when you're barely taller than five feet. It's also stressful when random football players come up behind you and pick you up because you're just "so small" and so "easy to carry". Ugh. I was about three-quarters of the way to school when I realized that I had forgotten to bring a jacket, and that it was cold as balls outside.

"Motherfucker!"

I hissed under my breath. It was too damn cold out and somehow I had only just noticed. I wrapped my right arm around my stomach, attempting to warm it up, I would've done the same thing with my left one, but seeing as it was in a clunky white cast from a fun little tree-climbing adventure, I was unable to. I finally got to school, and headed inside, walking in the general direction of my locker. I never actually put anything it it, I just stood by it until it was time for class since I didn't really have anyone to talk to.

"Hey dipshit!"

I internally screamed at the sound of none other than Jared Kleinman's voice.

"Hey..." I cringed as my voice came out raspy and soft.

"So, how'd you break your arm? Jacking off too hard?"

Jared laughed at his own joke. I felt my face getting warm and I knew I must have been turning pink. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt and attempted to respond in a witty way.

"As if, you know I don't have a dick."

Jared half-laughed and asked again,

"Really though, how'd you break your arm?"