w r e c k a g e ✓

the wreckage of her choice

❝My daughter will not be exposed and subjected to using the same restroom as some man who is apparently a woman.❞

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THE LITTLE GIRL huffed as she tried reaching the sink for the fourth time in a row. She glanced at the woman next to her. The woman was staring right back at her, but with a soft smile.

"Need help?"

The masculine voice that echoed through the little girl's ears made her curious.

"Um... yes?" The little girl decided, unsure.

The woman picked up the little girl by the sides and helped her turn on the faucet. The little girl carefully rinsed the soap off of her small hands.

"All done?"

The little girl nodded and the woman gracefully set her down. She then dried her hands and turned towards the woman.

"Your voice..." The little girl hesitantly drifted off.

The woman's eyes turned to a sudden sadness. The woman was sure that the little girl would be scared of her. Make fun of her even.

The little girl, young, yes, dumb, no.

"Don't be sad!" The little girl pleaded. "I'm not scared!"

The woman gazed down at her.

"Are you so sure of that? You wouldn't be the first child to be scared of me. You wouldn't be the first person."

"Why would I be scared? You haven't hurt me. You've helped me." The little girl unapologetically wrapped her arms around the woman's waist and held on tight.

Just as the woman opened her mouth to protest the sound of the bathroom door opening silenced her.

"Lily? Sweetie what is taking so long?"

The woman tried tugging away from the little girl but it was too late. She had been ripped off of her.

"What are you doing!" The mother screamed, pulling her daughter to her side and looking the woman up and down. "You—You sick man! You're no woman! I don't care about what people like you say! I don't care if you're allowed into this bathroom! You stay back! Don't come near my daughter! Don't come near me!"

As the mother threw those hate filled words at the woman all she could do was listen to them.

"You get out!"

The woman, with her head down and hands to her side, slowly turned.

"I'm sorry!" She heard the little girl whisper.

The woman could have been told a billion sorries and she would still have the same emptiness in her heart. She did not care. She had grown accustomed to being treated like scum.

An angry mother did not have the same effect as being disowned and thrown out of her home at the age of seventeen.

An angry mother did not have the same effect as not ever getting the chance to love.

An angry mother did not have the same effect as being jumped on the side of the road while walking home from work.