All Tables Turned

Chapter 1: A Painful Pursuit

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My body laid slain on the floor as my attackers triumphantly marched towards me. I closed my eyes shut, allowing my sight to be comforted by the cool blackness of nothing. Perhaps if I block them out - shun them - they'll cease to exist. They'll leave me alone. They'll show some mercy.

But mercy was the only grace they didn't give me. My stomach cried as I felt a sharp foot assault the soft tissue of my spleen. Before I was aware of it, kicks were covering my curled body like snow on a hibernating bear. Each impact felt stronger than the last as my body accumulated deep, agonizing bruises - none of which as red as my bloodshot eyes.

Tears disobediently crawled out of the corner of my eyelids as I commemorate the days where nobody knew my secret. I was able to march through the day, breathe the fresh air, and feel the warm affection of the sun against my skin without the fear of spiteful eyes. That was life before I opened up. Before I allowed my most private of secrets to escape from my tight grasps.

Before I was exposed as trans.

My eyes opened slightly to gaze upon the prosecutors above me. My salt-rich tears clouded my vision, allowing me to only witness the silhouettes of my attackers.

A broad figure stood to the far right of me. Their eyes reeked of malice, and their grin was unnerving enough to liquefy any ounce of bravery I might've had in the moment. Their mouth started speaking inaudibly as they gazed down at my broken body.

My ears rang incessantly, as if they were trying to protect me from the sharp words I was about to be stabbed with. However, despite the effort, my mind had already been subjected to this situation so many times that I could practically smell the rotten insults ooze from their mouth.

'Disposable. Worthless. Trash. Faggot. Vile.'

A smaller figure stood to the left of them. The thinness of their frame reminded me of my thinning consciousness, as I could feel my blood cool and my body begin to shiver. I began to vibrate rapidly in fear and cold, as a frigid breeze began to join my aggressors in their entertainment and smash against my lifeless skin.

In a search for solace, my hands grasped desperately at the wet grass beneath me. Its roots had firmly stabilized it to the ground, providing me a firm, yet imperfect, support system. However, in that very moment, my body begins to shake so hard that the vibration of my hands viciously tears the grass from their rooted homes.

After just a second of gaining stability, it's ripped out from my grasps. Lovely.

A sharp kick from the final figure provokes my eyes to dilate, granting me a very unwanted view from my third attacker. His hair was black as night, a perfect reflection of the malice in his heart. His skin looked as coarse as the grass beneath me, though not half as soft.

I briefly consider conversing with him, before deciding that it was likely my only option. As I made contact with his deep, penny brown eyes, I achieved a startling realization. This was not an individual who could be reasoned with. This was not someone who would let me off the hook so easily. This was not someone who was willing to shed even an ounce of mercy for his own blood.

This was Xavier. My brother.

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