With an Old Zippo Lighter and a Deodorant Can

(1) HELLO SADNESS

i'd like to think i pass. im a passing guy. i hope. my first day of freshman year is here. class of 2020!?

ill try my best.

it's my last class of the day. honors english. im in all honors, but its a pretty big shame i didnt get into history this semester, though.

my heart pounded in my chest as i made my way to the front of the class. there just *had* to be a class where i was forced to introduce myself, wasnt there. goodness. it was almost hard to breathe when i took an inhale to speak, but maybe that was just my binder.

"uh- my name is- you can call me jackson. i like-"

"it says here your name is jane. use your real name." the teacher cut me off like a punch to my gut. someone in the back snorted.

"fag." some BOY with brown hair. HE said HIS name was barron when HE introduced HIMself. HE didnt get the privilege HE had to be born the way HE was. a REAL MAN.

i felt so alone. i repeated my introduction with my "real" name. i felt uncomfortable. the one time i tried to be myself i got called a fag.

damn it.

now people will know.

they'll all know.

i went back to my seat while my heart pounded painfully in my chest. i felt stares down my back. inpassed by that boy again. he called me a fag under his breath and chuckled a little. i was embarrassed. i was sick. why didnt i know better?

i didnt talk to anyone the rest of the day. not to my parents. not to my teachers, or the kid who sat next to me on the bus. not the day after that, not the week after. for three weeks i avoided saying much of anything. because i was embarrassed. i felt stupid.

it was another day of saying nothing. completely silent, just like that kid in my math class. i like him. he shows me his notes when i pass out in class, and I think he hates the guy who called me a fag. he's not gonna call me that, or a tranny. i like to think he isnt mean. i hope so.

today i passed out on my bus, and almost missed my stop. the ginger girl who sat behind me on my bus nudged me awake before my stop, and i swore i saw something. like the sky was red for a second.

at least i was awake before the bus started to take off. it's just another day. thursday. nothing special.

i went to bed, (hoping i wouldnt wake up, as usual,) and took a handful of melatonin. i didnt even bother to count how many i took, or take off my binder, or to even think about my homework. i didnt care.

failing every class, other than the one the mute kid was in. i had a d there, but that was all.

i passed out at around three thirty. i wouldnt wake up till tomorrow. its usual now.

at some point in the middle of the night, i woke up feeling all funny. of course it was hard to breathe because of my binder, and the fact my face was pressed into a pillow, so what did i do? if your answer was take a binder break then you were dead wrong. i hope my ribs cave in on my heart and lungs so i can finally die.

i adjusted my position, now finally seeing the red sky and the... shadow. it was staring at me from my doorway. white eyes glowing. yellow teeth glistening. it pounced right onto me. its claws dug into my skin, piercing right through my clothes.

i somehow kicked it off of me and grabbed the paring knife that was in my nightstand. dont ask why it was in there. you dont want to know. i stabbed the fucker right in it's head just as it tried to get me again. it's black "blood" trickled into my hair. ew. i looked outside. it was red. there was more. i shut my curtains. i closed and locked my door.

i hid under my bed and cried until it was over. until i fell asleep again. was it any better than the dreams where people found out about the fag i was? i couldnt tell you.

the next day went slow. i was still in pain from my dream, and every day my chest hurt more. i could feel the skin breaking around the edges and i felt too hot. i was overbinding. i didnt care. i just wanted to be happy.

i looked over at the mute kid's notebook, since i wasnt paying attention to the lesson. i nearly shot up. an exact image of one of the shadows that had attacked me last night. like exact. and did i ask him about it? did i say something? FUCK NO. i minded my own damn business, for a few days. after all, how does one go about seeing someone draw a picture of a monster that nearly killed you in your nightmare? what would you do in that situation?

i dont know. i was too stunned in the moment to say anything. i just went on my merry way. i went to all my classes, got called a ||fag and a tranny|| in the hall, and went home. i immidiately went back to bed after walking home, since i was especially tired after not sleeping all night after my nightmare last night.

i had another nightmare that night. it was almost the same as the last one, but it picked up right where it left off. i grabbed the old zippo lighter and the can of deodorant i was using as "cologne" because i couldnt afford the real thing, and i waited.

and waited.

and waited.

silently.

this repeated for the next few days. three, to be exact. so in total, i had five nightmares. after the fifth one, i decided that my situation was too weird to not confront the tall kid in my math class. the mute one. the one who drew the EXACT monster in my dream.

it cant be a coincidence. it cannot be.

"hey uh-"

i started, which was kind of weird seeing as it was my first time talking to someone since the first day of school. i forgot my voice was so girly. i hated it.

he was surprised at first, but then he pulled out his notebook, assuming i needed the notes. i took it and flipped to the page where he drew the creature. i kept my voice down, making sure nobody would hear my voice (not only because i was dysphoric about it, but also because i didnt want anyone to hear what i was going to say.)

"i dreamed this thing. this exact creature. like- like five nights in a row. its really weird. how do you know about this?" he tensed, his mood seemingly changing to one of panic.

something was seriously wrong.