Cheap Cigarettes and Coffee

Runaway baby

     It was hard to run with a chest bound so tightly. But sometimes, running away is all you can do. So that's what he did, he ran as fast as he could labored breathing tears pouring down his face mixing with the gentle rain drops that framed his face. He ran and ran a scream building in his throat one he couldn't release. Jackson came to a halting stop and wheezed; he wanted to ask why he wanted to scream at God. But God wasn't listening. Was he ever?
     God his lungs burned and his chest heaved against the fabric of his chest wrap. The reason he was running, the reason he was still alive, and when it became to much he collapsed against the alley sobbing. What else could he do? Jackson always fought back, at least when it wasn't his dad.
    How do you fight back when someone holds your life in their palm? When they can control you like a goddamn video game...a fucking puppet. He finally let the scream out his vocal chords feeling shredded. When you can't fight you have to run. Today was his 17th birthday, he had a new found freedom, but would he ever really be free? Jackson sighed letting out a strangled sob.
    "Happy birthday ..to me...".
  No one knew, he didn't want the putting looks that they would give him or the excuses. He didn't want cps coming in fucking everything up and then leaving him. He was trans. He was him and that's how it always was to him. Unfortunately his dad didn't feel the same way, god fucking forbid he be different. Oh god not the horrors of a trans child. The fucking abomination. The black sheep of the family.
    A little laugh left his throat, his dad wasn't pleased but the binder...it pushed him over the edge and Jackson ran. Ran from the mental pain that would invetibly become physical. He got back up knowing he couldn't rest long, the shelter was still 3 miles out. Fuck.
      Better put on a nice face, he thought mockingly, suddenly I found it very funny that if people heard my thoughts no doubt Karen would be horrified at my beautifully rough language. So he did what he always did, put on a mask and kept walking.
     He winced at the squelching of his shoes on the tile floor. The lady at the front desk looked up and gasped, "Oh dear you're soaked."
      "I obviously love runs in the rain." He deadpanned and she sighed handing him a towel. "State you're name and reason for arrival."
    "Jackson Kai, I have a shitbag dad isn't that why we are all here?"
     She looked unamused at the language but wrote down the information in much nicer wording.
Decorating the truth, like everyone else. Because the reality is too harsh.
     "Welcome to Advent, as you know we are an lgbt safe shelter. More of an lgbt specific one. Let me show you to your room you will be sharing with two boys around your age. Michael, age 18 and Drew age 17," she looks over, "I think you will get along rather well." And with that she opened the door to the room and his new life.
And all he could think was, fucking awesome.