From The Other Side

Chapter Twenty

You know, they never tell you how to anticipate a falling wall in school. Sure, they tell you about the Berlin Wall, and The Great Wall Of China, but they don't tell you how to break one yourself.

Don't get me wrong, I'd rather school teach me about that because the odds you'd be at the break of a meters-tall brick structure would be rare, but hey, here I am.

If you've ever watched a house show, (fixer-upper, anyone?), then you've probably seen demolition. Think of this as demolition, but taller, smokey-er, and arguably more dangerous.

I must say, a calvary really does get the job done. The sunrise fits perfectly with the rising ash, dust, and inevitable death. Might I say, being unable to see has never been more fun?

And here comes the emotions. And the frantic screaming people. Those too.

"Back away, demons!" A citizen shouts, a flame in hand.

"The Queen demands you all dead!" Shouts another.

"Bow to her!" At least half of them shout in unison.

Rae gives me a look. I can't tell which one of the many of us they call demons, considering the only one with contacts to demons is Rae, who didn't involve them.

You should be able to tell I'm being sarcastic. I know they hate us.  Although "demons" are far from us. The demons didn't do shit. The evangelicals did.

 And then came the run-screaming. Oh, the run-screaming.  You haven't lived until you've been charged at by an angry mob. Rae holds their hand up, raising a border for us. Mostly as a preventative thing.

"Calm yourselves. Hear us out." They've got this glare now, along with a commanding stance. 

"There's no way, after all of her transgressions against her own people, that I may be silent. Some of the few of you may know me as Raegan, "The Lost Daughter". Now, I am not her daughter anymore. She is nothing more to me than the vessel I was born from. Hell, I am no longer a woman. I never was. She said I was a traitor. She lied. She said I wanted to overthrow her for the throne. She lied, I want nothing to do with it." 

The rest of our party has sat down around Rae like it's a child's storytime, and we're reading Patricia Polacco. They bring their sword down, sheathing their weapons.

"I've got a story for you, and if we're lucky, I'll get you out." Here we go...

"Most of you know my mother's story. You don't know mine, however. Mine starts when I was twelve. I saw my first glimpse of what my mother called "a sinner". May I say, she was beautiful. Short, choppy hair, black eye paint, tanned skin. Now, you may not understand why she was a sinner. Thing is, she isn't a sinner. But, here's your kicker. From that castle window, I saw her kiss another woman. Guess what I did? Nothing. I just sat there and understood. Now, I see the faces you make. I saw those two women leave and never return a week later."

The oldest in the crowd have shocked looks. Not about the exile, but *gasp* a gay relationship. Rae chuckles at the reaction.

"This, my friends, is the exact toxicity I hope to remove from us as a society. I've got another good one for you. When I was fourteen, I saw another couple from the window. This time, a black woman and a white man. I didn't see them again either."

Rae pauses.

"If you cannot see past the blatant injustices that happen to your fellow citizens daily, you are simply blind. We cannot live as a society with this blindness. My "Transgressions" are simply the existence of my gender nonconformity. I am the poster child for what my mother kills for. I didn't leave because of a murder plot. I was kicked out for being me, for loving who I love. For not wanting these wretched things on my chest. For not respecting her "rules", which are centuries-old traditions that need to be broken. So help me, we can't take them on alone."

The deadly silence is all I hear after Rae utters the last syllable of their story. There isn't a dry eye in the crowd. Especially around the younglings. And then the unspeakable happens. The kind of thing that restores my faith permanently.

A girl in the crowd stands.

"They may kill me for it. Hang me, strangle me, exile me. But that does not mean for a single second that I'll stand down for someone who's seen the same pain as I, struggling with self-identity, where the norm is the only option. I'm one of you. I'm not afraid."

The woman raises a fist.

"We will not bow."

An older person stands.

"I've struggled to feel like myself in my own body this entire life I've lived. I've only been told to suppress it, to hide it, to make myself like them. I'm not Alexander anymore. I'm Allison!"

Little by little, people stand to share their stories. I've heard everything. If you think it could happen, it did. A girl sneaking out for an interracial gay relationship, a citizen hooking up with the servants, (he was gay, and so were they). Bisexuals and Pansexuals, telling stories of secretly illustrating and writing about relationships, the polyamorous telling their stories, and the allies standing up for us, fists in the air, torches waving, as the sun went up.

I couldn't help but cry at just how beautiful it all was, people, caring about each other! Whatever happened to our past civility? because of this place, oh this place. They made it common again. Human decency. Even on a planet of gods, we still have it. This is what I loved.

Unity. Peace. Civility. 

All of humanity's lost virtues, here, all in one piece.

But of course, nothing's perfect.

I can practically feel the malice radiating from the balcony of the castle, an old, blonde, white woman, teeming in her own anger. 

I know that face like none other.

"Rebels! Sieze them now!"

Rae and I have put our swords back up. It's battle time, motherfuckers.