It was cold. The windows of the small cabin rimmed with frost and wisps of cold air intruding through any opportunist gaps in the defenses. The cast iron stove in the center of the small abode struggled against the encroaching chill as the last bits of furniture smoldered in its belly. It was a race, Mother Nature vs human ingenuity... and human was losing ground.

It was the coldest winter ever recorded, lasting a full month longer than any other winter thus far that was known of. Even the local stories didn't compare to this extent, of this winter.

Despite my own chill, I couldn't help but wonder about my neighbors, how they were doing, if they had enough fuel for their fires. I could only imagine the sadness and grief for the losses that were sure to be discovered. I wonder what secrets they had kept, thinking that only someone with something so dark they could not possibly share with the rest of humanity would be up here at this time of year. Certainly that was true for me, so it made sense it be true for others.

My dark secret you ask? Do I dare trust you with it? Will I see the disgust, the judgment in your eyes, the derision in a tirade from your mouth? Will you be like so many others that don't understand, that can't accept.... I think, that since my demise is almost certain this eve, I will trust you. I will tell you as much as I can before Mother takes me from this world.

If I looked you in the eye, relating that I had been in the service, and in that time I had murdered a thousand 'enemy' most likely you would thank me for my service, glad you didn't have to go through that insanity. But..if I told you that for all of my life, I felt I was somehow wrong in how my genetics were.. that I was not a man, but a woman, and had always been so. That my entire life had been people trying to 'cure' me, forcing their idea of who I should be upon me... What would you say then?

This is my 'Dark Secret'. I come up here in the worst of the season, to be me. It's the only place I can express my true self without suffering at the hands of others who just don't get it. The few neighbors I've met have seen only the girl me. They smile and wave, we do dinners together, and I hear my real name on the tongues of others. I dance backwards, a strong hand on my hip and my hand on my dance partner's shoulder. They spin me, and tilt me in dips, they do everything a 'man' should do; and at the end of the evening, I disappoint them. I can almost hear their question,”what did I do wrong? She should be ready to share some intimate time with me...she sure seemed to enjoy being close to me on the dance floor.” That question comes from both men and women....

So here I am, dressed in my warmest feminine clothes, all the rest having been fed to the fire. I have half a bottle of Jack D that I'm using as antifreeze in my system. I've even fed most of my cabin's floorboards to the flames... sunrise is still a few hours away. I can't feel my fingers or toes any longer, I have to use both hands just to take a swig from the bottle. I am so tired, so sleepy... I smile almost. If tonight is my last one, at least when they find me, my secret will be out.

Will they honor my request? Bury me with the name I ask for? Or, even in death, will they force their understanding, their ideals, on me; and bury me with the name given at birth. The one that was always so wrong. Will they remember me? Or will they only remember who they wanted me to be.

The stove has gone cold, the bottle is empty lying on the floor, the steam of my breath has ceased. No longer have I a care for this world. The tears frozen on my cheeks are not for me. Mother has taken me home to Father.