Seeing In Color | Transgender

Chapter 2

My feet drag like weights from the burdens on my shoulders down the concrete steps. This time I don't bother taking note to the chilling weather because I've deemed it almost as unimportant as my own life. Just another number in the system, another element in the meaningless life holds. I stuff my hands in my pockets, hiding the parts of me that have been broken and torn to pieces from all the times I've tried cutting out the bad parts of my mind on my heart because I couldn't tell the two apart. It's all just a mess now.

I didn't bother with the thoughts this time. Everyone had heard them the day before. I couldn't help but remind myself the difference between listening and understanding. I could show them my pain. My scars. Share the tears I've collected in my jars of hope for a rainy day. But they remain oblivious to my mere existence and efforts, all drifted away by now, lost in the miles and miles of wind Mother Nature travels for us like a lost child. I am that lost child.

I keep my head down low. Concluding that if I don't look up, I don't see them and they don't see me. I don't have to see the disappointment in their eyes and they don't have to see the monster crawling outside of mine. But, contraire, I've kept the beast hidden so well that they'd struggle seeing past the bruises left from my own self hate.

I sit down.

I just sit down.

And then, so does he.

"I heard what you said yesterday." I recognized that voice.

I just nodded in understandment, and I knew he was too.

"I understood." He said, quieter. I stopped in my thought process. Taken somewhat aback that someone would understand what I had said. But, how can I trust him? He just doesn't want the guilt on his shoulders once I kill myself. Then again, no one would. So I couldn't blame him.

"You were in the crowd?" I asked. We didn't look at each other. I simply played around with my long sleeves as he rubbed his hands back and forth. We stared at the ground because we couldn't keep our heads held high when everyone else was pushing it down. But that was just me, not him. So what was he doing here?

"Yeah..." He mumbled in disappointment. I could feel the guiltiness emitting off of him and in an instant I understood he was genuine.

I looked over at him. Staring at him. He stared back at me. I took note to the glisten of the sun against his sandy blonde hair as his bangs cover his forehead. His eyes covered with those thick blue rimmed glasses but somehow he rocked it just right. His eyes were a mix of blue and green and happiness but sadness as the same time. His mouth was showing potential for happiness but a permanent frown as well. He was popular. God, he was so popular. What was he doing over here?

"You don't have to do this, you know." I said, still staring at him.

"I want to." He replied, monotone.

"Why?" I whispered, I was confused. I can understand so many things, but not him.

"Because no one deserves to be treated the way you've been treated." He said back.

I could see the break in his eyes. I knew. At that moment I knew. He didn't just understand. He was living proof that he was another me. He'd gone through what I'm currently going through. Maybe worse. Maybe not. But he had. Perhaps before or perhaps now. But the point still stood strong with force. He did so much more than understand. I suddenly didn't feel so alone. I felt safe and it comforted me. But I couldn't ruin another friendship, not now. I sighed, looking down at my hands as I played with my sleeves. I stopped reluctantly and stood up. He didn't stand up, he just watched me. I faced my back to him and just breathed calmly.

"That's where you're wrong, Rylan Malcolm. Some of us do." I replied as I walked off. Leaving him in my puddle of sorrow and watched as he drowned. But, as I turned around, I was shocked to see that he knew how to swim.