Cassie

Chapter Three: Matthew

I drove around aimlessly, my fingers gripping the wheel tightly, my knuckles white. My face was hot, tears running down my red cheeks. I pulled over, letting my forehead hit the wheel. Teardrops dripped down onto my lap like bullets piercing through my skin. My body ached and burned. I shuddered as I sobbed, barely able to breath through all of the tears.

I couldn't even go home, and that was the worst part. My parents didn't even know I was out at one of my best friend's funeral, because I knew, that if I told them, they'd never let me go. They would roll their eyes, and mumble, "He had it coming, damn tranny," Whenever they spoke about Cassie, their words burnt like fire, making me cringe and regret ever talking about her. When they first met her, they yelled at her and chased her out of the house, telling me I wasn't allowed to ever see her or talk to her again. I wasn't allowed out of the home for two weeks, and they watched over me and read my texts, making sure I wasn't even associating myself with her. Whenever they spoke about her, I could barely hold back my anger as they insulted her, calling her a "him" and claiming she'd burn in hell, their eyes holding nothing but hate as they mocked her.

I never spoke about her at the house. The four of us never even went near my home, avoiding it like the plague, fearing that my parents would yell at Cassie and insult her. The worst part was that Cassie tolerated it. She put up with so much of it, and managed to still hold her head high and push them off, unaffected by all of the abuse. When a teacher dared to refer to her as Cael, she would stand up and call them out on it loudly, and if they continued, she would threaten to leave the class. She was incredibly resilient, and I knew that if I was in her shoes, I couldn't handle any of it, but she went on, her pride intact at the end of every day. She had such an amazing strength, yet to her, what I called bravery was no impressive feat to her, just living. She couldn't even comprehend how strong she was, because to her, being verbally attacked in the hallways and streets, being called a boy, being sexually harassed was nothing but a regular day to her. She woke up in the morning knowing it would all happen to her, yet she sill got out of bed, walking with her head held as high as could be.

I sat in the car, shivering from the cold November wind, the bitter air nipping at my skin. I huddled up, holding my knees close to my chest to keep myself warm. Bundled up in a ball, I began to drift off into sleep, still uncomfortable and incredibly cold. I was asleep until a loud knock on my window jolted me out of my sleep. I squinted, my vision bleary. At the window stood a woman in a long, black leather coat, a gray knit cap, and a pair of tinted sunglasses. I rolled down my window, a rush of air blowing in, my face growing numb from the cold. The woman sighed and shook her head disappointedly. "Matt, you better not be staying there the whole night," She smoothed her frizzy blonde hair back, her lips pursed. I smiled in relief. "Hey Sharon," I said, my voice weak and frail. She ruffled my hair. "Do you want to hide out at my apartment?" She asked, her voice sympathetic. I shrugged. "No you don't have to-" I began but she cut me off. "I'm not letting you freeze to death. C'mon, let's go," She started to walk to her car, which was parked behind me. I let her pull ahead, then followed her.

Sharon was Cassie's cousin, and was twenty-six. She had been like a mother to Cassie when she first started to transition. Sharon's roommate, Cheryl, had taught Cassie how to put on make-up, do her hair, etc. The two of them had been great friends to the four of us, and we often hung out at their apartment. They were always kind and understanding, and usually housed me whenever I needed to hide from my parents for whatever reason. I was always so grateful to them, as they were probably more supportive than my mother and father had ever been.

I parked next to Sharon's car and hurried out of my van, slamming the door hard and hurrying out, following Sharon as she walked towards the entrance. She placed a hand on my back as she led me up to her room. When we entered, the lights were on, Cheryl awake and curled up on the couch in a giant, fuzzy, purple blanket. She glanced upward and noticed me. She stood up, shrugging off the blanket, revealing her huge figure. She shuffled over to the two of us and gave us both hugs. She smelled of vanilla, the sweet scent wafting throughout the whole apartment.