CHAPTER 16 -- After the End

My throat was sore. It hurt like hell. That was the first thing I was aware of. After a while, I noticed I couldn't close my mouth. I remember a long time of just being a sore throat and a mouth stuck open. And I noticed a finger tip hurt, like someone was squeezing it with pliers. And my arms hurt, I couldn't tell exactly where, but there was a sort of burning, pulling feeling, a little like I'd been stung by a big yellow jacket.

I opened my eyes, but couldn't figure out where I was. About then, I remembered I was supposed to be dead. I flirted with the idea that this was the afterlife, but I gave that up pretty fast. I guess I didn't take enough pills, or they were the wrong kind.

I noticed I couldn't move my hands. At first I thought I was paralyzed, but finally figured out that my hands were tied down somewhere. I still wasn't thinking too clearly. I tried to say, untie my hands, but I couldn't form words. I couldn't even control my breath. The thing in my mouth must be a breathing tube. I started to thrash around.

Somebody came over. "She's awake," I heard. I wondered who she was talking about. She disappeared. A few minutes later, someone else in a white coat came by. "Can you hear me?" I nodded vigorously. "Are you ready for me to take the tube out?" I nodded again. "Do you want it to stay in?" I shook my head really hard. "She's responsive." I realized they must think I'm a girl, not that I could blame them.

I won't say anything about taking the breathing tube out, except that it was uncomfortable. Very uncomforatble. My throat hurt even more, but it was nice to be breathing normally. After that, I just lay there, really bored, for the longest time. I looked around and figured out that there were IVs in both arms, and maybe other places.

Eventually, my mom and then my dad came in. They didn't say much, and I couldn't say much. My mom tried to hold my hand even though it was tied down.

"Why are my hands tied?"

"They were afraid you'd hurt yourself. " I wanted to say, that's stupid, but then I remembered I'd just tried to kill myself. "Oh, Martin--" she said and started to cry. I felt really, really bad, because I'd made my mother cry. I had a feeling I'd really fucked up. Finally, my mother calmed down and just sat with me.

"We sat by your bedside last night. We watched the machine breathe for you and prayed you'd be all right." I didn't know what to say.

I think I slept for a while, because the next thing I knew, my mom was gone, and all I heard was the beeping of all those machines. I wondered what time it was. Then I wondered what day it was. Finally, a doctor -- well, someone in a white coat -- came by. He got me to answer some questions, including "how many fingers do I have up?" I was tempted to lie, but then I figured he'd just leave me tied up and full of needles until the next time he came around. He walked away, and a little while later, some nurses came and started taking the needles and gadgets off of me, but they didn't untie me. They wheeled me all over the place into a room with three beds, and then they untied me. There were two guys like football players on either side of me. "Psych ward?" They nodded. "Locked?" They nodded again. "Shit," I said.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"4:30"

"A.m. or p.m.?"

"4:30 p.m. And before you ask, it's Saturday."

I found out why I was still alive. Teresa had looked at her phone when she got up to use the bathroom and she saw my message. She immediately guessed what it was about, flipped out and woke her parents. They read it and figured it out, too. They tried to call my parents but couldn't reach them, and nobody answered at home. They then got the number of the police and called them and persuaded them to go by. Aunt Edith being a social worker, she must have known what to say. They found the back door we never lock, searched around, found unresponsive me, the notes, the pill bottle, and the glass of vodka, and called an ambulance. If I'd lain there until my parents came home, I'd have been dead. Teresa had saved my life.

My mom and dad came in occasionally, but mostly I just looked out the window. It was nice, other than the fact that I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself. There were woods across the street and pigeons flying around. I didn't have any roommates, and I got all my meals in my room under the watchful eye of a nurse, so it took a while to figure out I was in a women's ward.

I asked the staff when I could go home.

"The psychiatrist will have to give her okay before you can leave. She'll be in on Monday." Well, more one day I won't have to go to West Hell. I thought, hey, why don't I just not go, like I did with gym? Why had I thought that killing myself was the only way out? It seemed so simple now, just refuse to go! I suddenly felt so stupid.

Sunday afternoon, Aunt Edith and Uncle Boris visited me. They'd come straight from the airport. Teresa wanted to come, too, but she was too young to be allowed to visit, so my folks took her home. They both gave me big hugs and cried and said they were so grateful I was still alive, which made me feel guilty. "I wish you could have waited a few more days to see what your old Uncle Bore could come up with. Well, you're alive, that's what counts."

On Monday, the psychiatrist visited me. She was nice, not like the analyst the school recommended. I told her about the sex-change and about the hell at school. I told her I just couldn't face another day at West Hell or any other school.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure you don't go back there, won't we?" She talked with my parents and my aunt and uncle, they'd all taken the day off. She arranged with them that I should see her twice a week in the out-patient facility. The hospital gave me my clothes -- the girl clothes I'd had on when I lay down to die. Then the four of them brought me home.

Teresa was waiting in the living room. When she saw me, she jumped up and ran to me. Then she started punching me, really hard. She hit my arms and kicked my legs. It hurt like hell.

"I am so mad at you! How could you do this? Why didn't you talk with me first? Or my parents?" She was punching me the whole time and crying. I tried to pull away, but she shouted, "don't move. I'm not going to injure you, I'm just going to give you lots of bruises because you deserve it."

Nobody stopped her. She kept yelling at me and hitting me. I tried to fend her off, but she just hit my arms more. She pushed me over the back of the sofa and started spanking me, hard. Then she just stood there, shaking and crying, and pulled me over onto the sofa and hugged me and said, "thank God you're alive. Don't ever do that again!" She kept hugging me and we flopped onto the sofa. We arranged ourselves so we were sitting next to each other, and she held one of my arms with both hands. My parents and my aunt and uncle sat down.

"Martin, we have a proposal," my uncle started. "The quickest way to get you out of West High is for you to move into a different district. If you'd like, we'd like for you to come and live with us. The local high school is Greenwood, and you could go there. It's not perfect, but it's not as bad as West. Or we could see if we can get you into Gabriel School, which is where Teresa goes. It's a charter school, and it's different from the other schools. They run a tight ship, and you wouldn't have to worry about bullying there."

I just looked at him.

"Okay, that's probably too many choices. Would you like to come live with us, which would mean no West High?"

I didn't know what to say. It would mean leaving the people I'd known all my life. They weren't perfect, but they tried. But I thought my aunt and uncle would be better at dealing with my problems. And no West High sounded great.

"Mom, Dad, I don't want to leave you all, but maybe I would be better off with Aunt Edith and Uncle Boris. I'd still come to see you."

"We want what's best for you," my dad said. "If you're willing, we think you should go." My mom nodded.

"Okay, I'll come."

Teresa interrupted. "I haven't agreed yet." She let go of me and turned to face me. Her face was maybe six inches from mine. "Martin, if you come to live with us, will you promise, cross your heart and hope to die, that you will never, never try to kill yourself without talking with us first? Never, never, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER?"

I got lost in all the "never"s, but I said, "I promise." She grabbed me and hugged me.

"So, when would I move?"

"Tonight, if you're ready."

"Now's as good a time as any." Dad found me a suitcase and Teresa and I went upstairs to my room. I packed one or two boy T-shirts that I liked and some of the pants that fit me, but mostly I just packed my girl clothes and my warm clothes. Teresa packed my CDs and rolled up my posters. She saw the note I left, my "will."

"Bunny?" I showed her my bunny, still stuck between the matress and the wall where it must have fallen when the EMTs pulled me out. "Oh, he's so cute. Like you. But I think he wants to be with you. And I think he was really sad that you -- well, you know." She packed him gently in the suitcase with my girl clothes.

When we got downstairs, my mother had picked my clothes out of the laundry to take with me. I gathered my stuff. Biff and Pete were downstairs, and I hugged them and then my mom and dad. Then Teresa and my aunt and uncle and I went out the door.