What if all transgender people were imprisoned, deported, and slaughtered by the government? What would you do?
Finley Grayson carries on after an ex-boyfriend brings so much shame and regret he loses the will to live, that is until a rude young man...
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flashback Kaeden pov-
"Esther, why are you up here again?"
Rebecca asked as I turned on the lamp, lighting up the small tree house where I was hiding that night.
"Reb, what have I told you about the treehouse?" I whispered to my identical twin sister and she sighed.
"In the tree house your name is Kae," She answered and crawled up through the hole in the floor, before closing the door and snapping the latch closed.
"Daddy's looking all over for you Kae, You know what he's gonna do right?" She said and I silently nodded. Curling up in the corner of the house. The scars on my back ached and I could feel myself gulp, knowing what was soon to come.
"I tried telling him the boy shorts were mine but he knew I was lyin and started lookin for you anyway," she said.
"He found the hair too...in the garbage. Mama tried to stop him but you know how that goes," She continues and traces a small circle on the dirty floor.
"I should clean this for you since you spend so much time up here," she giggled and I watch her try to dust it with the sweeping motions of her tiny hands.
"Reb...do you still love me?" I asked and she stops, clapping her hands together to get some of the dust off.
"Of course Kae, I will always love you. I don't understand why you don't want to be a pretty pink princess, but that doesn't mean I hate you," She explained.
The sudden bang of the back porch door swinging against the linoleum caused me to jump up and switch off the lamp, but it was too late. He climbed the ladder and took me by my shortened hair with his dirty bare hands.
"No papa! No!"
Reb screamed as my papa took off his belt, forcing me to lean into the couch with my little hands holding the cushions.
"You want to be a boy Esther? Well, I'm gonna hit you like a boy now, to show you the difference. You won't be able to take it like a real boy through because you will never be a boy or a man or anything masculine, you hear me?" My papa screamed before the beating began. With each whip, he attempted to beat the transgender out of me.
But he never could.
I gasp for air as I open my eyes again. My head felt sore from the kicking it received earlier and my vision was a bit blurry. I try to move but quickly come to the realization I've been restrained.
"Fuck,"
I curse under my breath and look around me. It looked like I was in a cargo truck of some kind but with men and women chained to the walls.
I look across from me to see a dark-skinned woman weeping in tears, an Asian woman beside her and an Indian woman sits next to me.
All of them had these light blue square patches attached to their shirts with pins. I look down, only to discover a bright pink square had been attached to my own breast pocket of a black prison jumpsuit.
"It's Kaeden right?"
A quiet voice asks and I look up. The woman across from me sniffles and her gaze meets mine.
"Y-yes," I stutter and the entire cargo bay swings around when we go over a large bump in the road causing the cuffs to shift around my sore arms. My wrists were now rubbed raw from the handcuffs.
"What you did, for that little girl, thank you on behalf of her sisters. Thanks to you she left this world with her real name etched across her heart, Don't you ever forget that" She gets out in a heavy British accent while choking on her tears.
"Of course. She was my student," I sigh, remembering little Petunia's smiling face when I called out her real name.
"Where are they taking us?" I ask and the Indian woman gives me a look of sympathy.
"We're being deported," She says and a fear fills my soul.
I can't go back to Canada.
I can't.
The armored truck stops and the doors open up. Four officers with large heavy assault weapons gather into the truck and unlock our restraints. No one puts up a fight as they lead us out and into the sunlight.
I had to squint my eyes for a few moments before taking in the fact we were sitting on a tarmac with seventeen planes before us and dozens of trucks parking behind us.
"Canada line over here!"
One of the officers calls out and the others shove us forward. We follow the leader to our awaiting flight and I feel my heart pound as I accept my fate with every step.
Triggered by the sight of the maple leaf painted on the plane's fin, chills run down my spine as memories of my past life start to reappear.
A cold sweat glazes my forehead as I walk toward my impending doom.
Being deported back to the county I came from.
We reach the stairs and I watch the women go up first, weeping as they do, before I'm last to join.
I hesitatingly put one step on the bottom stair and close my eyes for a second before just starting my accent.
"STOP!"
At the scream over the plane's propellers, I turn to see a man dresses in a black suit and tie with the Royal British pendant on the pocket of his jacket.
"I need an Esther Tremblay! She's a proven legal resident of the United Kingdom and cannot be deported!" He yells, pulling some sort of documentation for me out of his pocket and showing it to the officers who unwillingly uncuff me.
I nurse my sore wrist close to my sides as the handsome young man roughly grabs hold of my shoulder and shoves me forward as if he's forcing me against my will.
No one bats a suspicious eye as we walk past the rows of transgender prisoners about to be deported.
His grip tightens as he shoves me past a row of guards and into the parking lot before letting go so I could enter the passenger side of our stolen Lamborghini.
We don't say a word to each other as he turns on the car and carefully drives away.
