Pencil Shavings (a Genderfluid story) - COMPLETED

Chapter Fifteen: Positivity

A/N: Hey, lovelies. Thanks for sticking with me throughout this wonderful story. This is going to be the last chapter. :) Thank you all for the support and positivity you gave me while I was writing this story. Love you all, and I hope you enjoy this last chapter. :)

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"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." 

-Joseph Campbell

Five Weeks Later

I had gotten out of the hospital a week after I had broken up with Taylor. When I had gotten hit by the car, I apparently had broken several bones in my right leg, which had been frustrating, and painful on rainy days. The doctor let me out of the hospital, saying my leg was going to take a few months to heal properly, and to stay off of it. That wasn't a big problem, since I had a wheel chair. 

I was now in Marcus's backyard, playing catch with a football. I was on his patio, since I couldn't easily roll out into the grass. I threw him the football; he caught it and threw it back. We did this silently for about ten minutes before he spoke up.

"Has Taylor talked to you at all?" 

I shook my head as I threw the ball. "No. I'm glad too; she was kind of pissed." 

"Understatement," he muttered, but I heard it. I smiled. "You're going to school tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah," I replied, and caught the ball. I threw it before I continued. "I'm glad the doctor said to take five weeks off of school - I need that time to rest." I smiled. "It's a miracle the teachers said I don't have to do any makeup work." 

He laughed. "Sure is." 

I caught the ball one more time before setting it down on the patio, beckoning for Marcus to follow me inside. Marcus ran over to help me, and I gave him a smile in thanks. 

After he climbed up onto the patio and pushed me inside, he sat down at the couch, me in front of him, both of us eating the cookies his mom made earlier that day. 

As we were munching on the sweet treats, I spoke up. "Today it's Anna," I said. 

He nodded. "Got it." 

After five minutes, he looked at me. "Anna, you and I both know that we need to talk about what happened." 

I didn't reply. 

"I saw your panic attack. You freaking fell off the hospital bed, Anna! You seem better, happier, but I can't read your mind. I want to know if you're okay. What's going on?" 

I sighed and put the cookie I had back onto the plate, then brushed the crumbs off onto my jeans. "I don't know, really. I...I remember thinking that I didn't deserve life, but...I just don't know." 

He frowned. "Do you still think that?" 

I shook my head. "I was panicking. I was an emotional wreck at the time, hell, I still am, but that day was worse. I still think I don't deserve a lot of things, like you, or your kindness." I held up my hand so he couldn't interrupt me, which he was clearly about to do. "You're like a brother to me, and I'm so grateful for that. I don't deserve a lot of things, but everyday, I'm trying to convince myself that I do deserve these things. You. Kindness. Life." 

He nodded, politely silent. 

"I'm feeling better each and everyday. I've come into terms with who I am: an aromantic, genderfluid teenager who's had a lot of crap happen to her. But I'm looking on the bright side of things lately, and trying to find joy. Joy burns out pain." I smiled. "And you've helped me with it. A lot." 

Marcus grinned. 

"I like to look at it this way. We're like pencils." 

He frowned, and I smiled. 

"I'll explain. We sharpen ourselves everyday, trying to be better, sharper. Our past is like pencil shavings -  it flutters away, and we don't care about it. At least, we shouldn't care about it. We keep our heads up, get better, sharper, and move on, writing our stories. So, in a way, I'm a pencil, and the past, the horrible things that happened to me this year, are pencil shavings." 

He nodded, then stood up and walked over to me. I tried to stand up as well, and he helped me. Once I was, kind of, standing, he wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back, my chin on his shoulder. 

I took a deep breath, then closed my eyes. 

The things that happened were pencil shavings. 

And even though I wasn't going to forget them, I was going to brush them away and continue writing my story, like I should do. 

I smiled. 

Pencil shavings.