Scars

Goodbye

Dipper's P.O.V.

   I watched the bus leave, waving goodbye to Mabel one last time. I felt so lost without her, but this would be good. I could be away from my parents. With people that accepted me. But I had another challenge to face currently. I was being enrolled into school. And we had to use my birth name. This would take a lot of explaining. As I walked back inside, I began to get nervous.

   "U-Uhm, Great uncle Stanford?" I asked, looking to Ford.

   "You can just call me Ford, Dipper. And yes, what is it?" He asked. I looked down, fiddling my thumbs.

   "Since you're enrolling me in school, there's something you should know..." I began, getting more and more nervous by the second. "Dipper... isn't...my birth name..." I said.

   "I'm afraid I do not follow. Is it a nick name of sorts?" He asked. I sighed.

   "I'm transgender. I was assigned female at birth. My birth name causes me discomfort when it is used, and when people use female pronouns or force me to do stereotypically feminine things, it causes me gender dysphoria, which leads to depressive episodes, or depressing and or suicidal thoughts and tendencies. It's almost like I was born in the wrong body. I was supposed to be born male, but there was some screw up and I was born female." I explained.

   "Oh... So this isn't just a drag or crossdressing thing, you're actually identifying as male?" He clarified. I nodded.

   "There are medical resources that help, including artificial testosterone, and a few types of surgery to change my body to become physically male. I am 13, so I may be able to start testosterone here. In most states I would have to be 15 or 16, but I haven't looked into the laws here." I explained.

   "I see. How do you present as male, then? Without the surgeries or testosterone?" He asked.

   "I get hair cuts often, I do vocal exercises to make my voice sound a bit deeper, and there is something called a chest binder that I wear. It flattens my chest until I get surgery. Do you... understand all of this? I don't really want my entire life here to be focused on my gender." I said.

   "Yes, I believe I understand. I can look into starting you on testosterone by next month, when school starts." He said. I smiled a bit.

   "Thank you. Uhm... I'm a bit tired, I might take a nap. I'll be in my room if you need me. I should be awake before dinner. And uh... Can you explain this to Grunkle Stan? I don't wanna have to spend 10 minutes explaining it to him. As I said, I just wanna be seen as a guy, but I know that if I'm gonna be living with you two, you need to know a bit about me." I said.

   "Of course, Dipper. You can head to your room, and the next time I see Stanley, I will explain this to him, including that you do not wish to talk about it often. Is there anything else I should know about?" He asked. 

   I could suddenly hear my heartbeat, and my vision blurred a bit. I looked down at my wrists, tugging softly at the fabric of the red sweater I was wearing. What if I tell him no, and he eventually finds out I lied? What if he realizes that I wear long sleeves, even in the summer? What if he sees my scars, or the newer cuts? What if he-- he--

   I begun to panic, tugging at my sleeves even more than before.

   " ...per? ...ipper? ...Dipper?!" I suddenly came back to reality, looking over to the worried Stanford. 

   "I-I..." I forced a nervous sounding laugh, to p̶r̶e̶t̶e̶n̶d̶ prove that I was okay. "I'm fine. Sorry, I zoned out. I'm fine. No there is nothing else you need to know about. I'll just uh, go to my room." I said. He let out a small relieved sigh.

   "Alright, you do that."

   I left the room, and went upstairs, to the attic, closing the door behind me. I looked around the room. It was a lot lonelier here without Mabel. I pulled out the blue journal that had a golden pine tree design on it. It was my birthday present from Ford. He told me to write down my experiences with the paranormal, and any theories I have about the town in it. I fell onto my bed with a plop and begun to write. I wrote about the memory gun, and how if memories were forced to return, then they could be revived completely. That made me wonder... If memories could be revived, and Bill was-- Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. I didn't have time to finish writing, I dropped my book and curled into a ball, trying not to panic. I let out a muffled cry, biting down on my hand to stop the noise from becoming too loud.

   "Dipper? You okay, kid?" I hear a voice ask. 

   "N-no, no-- No, not okay, not okay, no no no--" I said. Stan walked into the room, and seeing me in this state, filled with anxiety, he seemed to worry, but walked to my side. 

   "Hey, its okay kid. Deep breaths. look around you, I need you to name five things you can see, can you do that?" He asked. I nodded, looking around.

   "B-bed...Book...Dresser...You...W-w-win--...Window..." I stuttered out.

   "Alright, now name four things you can touch if you tried."

   "C-carpet, bookshelf, d-desk, s-shoes..."

   "Three things you can hear."

   "Y-your voice, M-my voice, b-birds outside..."

    "Now, try to calm your stutter, and tell me why you're freaking out."

   "I w-...was thinking... And I remembered that B-Bill was erased in your mind... And since you got all your memories back, there is a possibility that Bill survived..." I said, trying to remain calm.

   "I'm not gonna sugar coat this. That's definitely a possibility." He said. I looked away.

   "I don't want to go through weirdmageddon again..." I said.

   "Listen, kid. You got a family and friends that have been through the end of the world with ya. Literally. If he does return, we know what to do. And we won't let weirdmageddon happen again." He said.

   "Okay... Thanks Grunkle Stan..." I said.

   "No need to thank me. Just try to stay calm, and if you see anything suspicious, tell us." He said. I nodded.

   "I gotta go, I'll see you at dinner?" He asked. I nodded, and he left. With a sigh, I went back to my bed. I didn't question how he knew grounding techniques. I just looked to my journal, and then closed my eyes.

   "You're gonna be okay Dipper... You're gonna be okay..." I said to myself quietly. Though I knew I wasn't worried about myself. I was mainly worried about losing the only people close to me. I soon fell asleep, ignoring my racing thoughts.