Note: This is written by Kylie, not Dorothy. Kylie rendered her account inaccessible, and asked to post it here instead.
Author's note: This is completely true, every word, and it follows my thoughts and actions in what I intended to be my final weeks. Please read with caution.

Kylie smiled her first genuine smile in several weeks, maybe even months. The plan was simple, but genius, and foolproof. An hour later, she set her plan in motion.

I’m moving out on January 4, her text to her case manager read. We can talk about it on Tues, if you want.

The first step was taken; there was no turning back. That simple action -a text message- banished any fears or uncertainty she may have had. She went downstairs to the staff office to add some momentum.

“Guess what,” she told the staff on duty. “I’m moving out.” And she spun her story. She was a writer, so stories came naturally to her. Lies, she struggled with, but stories were not lies, so that is how she made herself think of them. “I got a job in California,” she spun. “An old place I used to work had a new position open, and I got hired. My friend needs a roommate, so it all works out.”

The story was carefully written in her mind. Unverifiable, but realistic. With all the right elements to hide the obvious clues. Moving away gave her the excuse to say goodbye, to give away her belongings, and most of all, explain away any cracks in her usual armor of a cheerful smile and pleasant personality. Who wouldn’t be sad to be leaving their friends behind to move back to the town she planned and hoped never to see again?

This story began two days before Christmas, so Kylie found it quite amusing, and also quite sad, when her case manager gave her a Christmas stocking two days later. Like it matters, she thought. It’s not like I can take it with me.

The next week was mostly spent cleaning her apartment. Just because she was going to be dead didn’t mean she should make somebody clean up after her. She marveled at how many physical belongings she’d managed to accumulate.

Just 18 months before, she’d moved to Portland with nothing more than the contents of a single duffel bag and a single messenger bag. But after she had packed the few things she’d need for the short time she’d given herself to live, she was still left with six trash bags of stuff to throw away and two paper bags of odds and ends she wanted to give to her friends.

Looking back, Kylie would admit that the hardest part of this story is not the night she swallowed the pills. The hardest part was the afternoon four days before, when she was leaving the transitional housing center she’d been living in for the previous year. She briefly considered telling the truth. Breaking down the story and asking for help.

She resisted the urge. She was beyond help.

Less than an hour later, she checked into a hotel room. She didn’t move to California. She hadn’t even gone 10 miles. She went just far enough away that nobody she knew would accidentally run into her.

Kylie’s only requirement for the hotel was that it had to have a bathtub. Her previous apartment in the transitional housing facility had only a shower, and oh how she missed a nice hot soak in a bathtub.

She spent the next few days in various states of awareness. She gorged herself on all manner of unhealthy food; it’s not like she needed to watch her weight. And slowly but surely, she shut down the lines of communication. She was enough of a geek that it only took a few seconds when she wanted to block everybody out of her life forever, or at least the few days left of it.

First text messages, when her therapist figured out that something was wrong when Kylie was late for her weekly appointment.

Then phonecalls when she didn’t reply to the texts.

Emails were last, when she started getting spammed with concern from her friends and mentors. She didn’t want to read them. If she read them she might change her mind.

The few events she would later remember clearest in the next week would be massaging her friend to ask if she wanted a laptop, buying the pills, making her goodbye video, shipping off her precious laptop, and finally, the hour before and the half hour after she took the pills.

She felt a mix of sorrow and purpose when she contacted her friend. She knew her email address by heart, so it was easy to add her to her Google Talk contacts. The conversation was brief and pointed. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted, and she had no intention of letting her friend change her mind, even if she figured out what was going on. Sure she wanted to give her friend her computer, but more than that, she wanted to make her friend promise to be strong. To not give up, and most of all, keep being herself. After a promise was wrestled out and details of the computer decided, she deleted her friend’s contact and logged out.

Do most people spend this long deciding how to die? she wondered as she spent nearly twenty minutes comparing various sleeping pills early the next day at a nearby pharmacy store.

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded through broken voice and streaming tears as she recorded her goodbye video. An apology for not being who others wanted her to be, and an apology for what she knew she’d leave behind. Then she uploaded her video and scheduled it not to go public until it would be too late.

This is it, she realized, as the post office employee took her laptop away. If she had wondered about her resolve before, she did so no longer. She never would have given her laptop away unless she planned to never need it again.

So with her final tasks done, she made a mental schedule for that night.

9pm, she decided. I’ll do it and go to bed, and I just won’t wake up.

The rest of the day was surprisingly normal. She watched tv, played a game on her phone, organized the hotel room. Completely normal stuff. Stuff she would do any other night.

The digital hotel clock clicked to 9:00pm, and she opened a bottle of apple juice she’d bought to wash the pills down.

92 sleeping pills. They took less than a minute to swallow the whole bottle.

She lay down in bed and set the sleep timer on the TV for 90 minutes, to give her enough time for the sleeping pills to start to take effect.

Then she noticed that she’d latched the security latch on the door by habit. No point making them break down the door to get my body, she thought as she got up to unlatch it.

Then she lay back down and watched tv until she drifted into what she hoped would be her final sleep.

***

She was very surprised to wake up the next morning. She tried to get out of bed, but even the short distance to the bathroom proved to be too much for her. Her reflexes were dull and her senses were unreliable. She could barely stand, and walking was beyond her at that moment.

After a few hours, her head cleared just enough that she resolved to get more pills and try again that night, once the effects of the previous night’s failed attempt wore off. But her plans were cut short when her video went live.

Her therapist and case manager, who had been searching her public profiles for any sign of where she’d gone found it quickly, and her therapist noticed that the background was clearly a hotel, probably a local one. She enlisted the help of some other people who knew and cared about Kylie to call hotels and find her.

They got lucky. Within just a few minutes, they’d found the right one.

The police arrived at her hotel room and she unlatched the safety latch she must have re-latched in that morning’s stupor.

The police took her to the emergency room, but she does not remember much of the experience. She was later told that they used charcoal to clear up the pills that remained in her system.

From there they took her to a crisis treatment center, where she was required to stay under suicide watch over the weekend. Both her case manager and her therapist visited her twice while she was there. And after making lots of promises that she wasn’t going to try to kill herself again in the foreseeable future, she was released on Tuesday.

She was welcomed back into the transitional housing that she’d been staying in before, though the staff were told to keep an extra watch on her in case she did something stupid. Her therapist and case manager both asked her to meet them twice a week, instead of once, which she had been doing.

The most uncomfortable part though, was having to figure out what to tell all the people who believed that she was moving to California, and how to tell the few people that she trusted with the truth.

Kylie is still not entirely sure that she’s glad that she’s alive, but she did decide not to put all the amazing people who care about her through it again.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes closing as he lifted my chin with his fingers, and slowly touched his lips oh-so-softly against mine.

In case you hadn’t guessed, that was a dream. No good story ever starts with a kiss. In fact, most of them end with one. I have had a massive crush on a boy named Tyler basically since Freshman orientation; now we’re both Juniors, and I don’t think he even knows I exist.

Now, I know what y’all are thinking. “Oh no, not yet ANOTHER ‘shy girl gets guy who barely notices her, but turns out to have been crushing silently. Oh, and of course he’s popular and on the football team and everything.’”

Sorry to disappoint, but there are three big problems with that.

First, I’m not a girl, at least not yet. Second, I don’t get the guy, so put that thought out of your head right now. And third, he’s the vice-president of the chess team, and a member of both the science and writing clubs, so yeah, not popular.

So anyway, back to what I was originally saying. The dream left me a bit hot and bothered, and since I had half an hour before my alarm even went off, I took a shower. And of course I imagined that I wasn’t alone.

But it wasn’t until after school when the next major thing happened. By major, I mean major to me, of course. I honestly don’t think the rest of the world cares. So there i was, sitting on the bus when he got on, and I would have sworn that he looked literally right at me and smiled. At least until he sat down in the seat behind me and started talking to his friend.

And of course, Shelby is reading over my shoulder. You know you shouldn’t do that, right? And there goes her signature eye-roll hair-flip combo. Anyway, she’s excited because this is where she comes into the story. See, Shelby is my best friend in the whole world. Think kindergarden playmates. So after my minor heartbreak, I texted her. It’s kinda funny. We live four blocks away from eachother, but she has to take a different bus home so she can meet her brother at the elementary school.

This was about 3 weeks ago, so I can’t remember the exact messages, but the general idea was me whining like my world just fell apart. I was kinda an idiot back then. Shelby, if you’re going to read, at least let me write without interruption. Fine, I’ll add it. Shelby says I’m still kinda an idiot. It’s not that I disagree, but at least my best friend shouldn’t say that.

Moving on! That’s when I got one of those annoying stomach bugs that kept me in bed for four days. Honestly though, don’t you hate being sick on the weekends? I mean, the only good part of being sick is missing school, but of course, I had to get sick on Friday, so I spent the weekend loath to get out of bed.

You think I complain too much? Well nobody’s making you read this, you know.

Now that those complainers are gone, I’ll bet you guys are wanting just to figure out what I’m getting at. Cause every story has to come to an end eventually. I’m debating rambling a bit more, but I think that would be- <- This is where Shelby took the keyboard from me, without asking, I might add.

Hi, this is Shelby. David is taking too long to get to the point, so I’m making him let me finish.

He came back to school on Tuesday. When he opened his locker, he found a card that somebody had pushed through the vent. It was a valentines card. The Friday that he missed school was also valentines day, so the card had sat there through the entire weekend. And trust me, it was nerve-wracking to wait for him to find it. Trust me, I know because the card was from me. I confessed that i’d loved him basically since we became friends in Summer school between our Sophomore and Junior years.

His response: “Oh, I’m so sorry Shelby. I just... I’m sorry.”

I remember my world shattering. At that moment, it felt like everything was falling, but I’m fine now. My feelings toward David haven’t changed, but I want to stay friends with him. So because he has this insane desire to post all of this on his blog, I’m helping him fill in the details.

Not a very storybook ending, I suppose.

Hey, it’s david again. I’d like to thank Shelby for being an awesome friend, and for writing a bit. Three Cheers! Send.

***

Wow, I can’t believe I found this after so many years. So much has changed in these last 12 years. First, my sex. I am now legally and physically a woman, and it’s strange to read my old name. It took me until after graduation, when Shelby and I left for different colleges for me to realize how big a mistake I made. One year of long distance relationship later, she asked me to be her husband. I’ll have to show her this story for our 10 year anniversary next Saturday. She’s been really supportive of my transition. It was rocky, but we held on.

And now, because as my high school self said, every good story has to end with a kiss, I am going to post this to bigcloset, go upstairs, read our six year old son a bedtime story, then give him a goodnight kiss on his forehead to “ward off the monsters” with a mother’s love.

Author’s note: Yes, this story was written in a blog-ish form. It was meant to be, however, it is entirely fictional and a work of the author’s sleep deprived imagination. Happy Easter.

Warning: This story follows the thoughts of a woman who is very near committing suicide. Please read with caution if this is a trigger for you.

Aelita sat on the edge of the bathtub staring at her open medicine cabinet. On the bottom shelf, there were two bottles, with very different purposes.

The first, a bottle of Estrogen, brand new from the pharmacy. The other, a half full bottle of extra strength sleeping pills.

Because, really, who was she kidding? All it took was a look in the mirror to know how stupid she was being. At forty-three years old, it was almost a laughable idea for her to be a woman. She knew she could never truly pass.

But she’d tried so hard. She’d come so far. Only three years ago, she admitted to herself that Aelita wasn’t going away. She wasn’t some childhood dream that she would grow out of. Three years ago, to the day, she put on her first dress. And suddenly here she was. A bottle of Estrogen lay right there, all she had to do was take the pills, and her body would change.

But not enough. She knew that there would be some things that would never change. There would be no changing her height. She was much too tall. And it was impossible to undo her very masculine shoulders. And it was certainly impossible to invert that flap of skin between her legs.

She tried to think of the positives. She had friends, that was for sure. She had a support group, both in her home city, but also online. She wrote, often, and she was actually really good at it. And of course, she had her family. Her family wasn’t entirely supportive, but at least they weren’t attacking her about it anymore. Even passive aggressively.

Aelita sighed. She suspected that they wouldn’t even notice if she was gone. The people online would suspect that her computer crashed again. It was an old computer, and it wouldn’t be the first time. Most of the people in person probably didn’t know her well enough to care. She looked again at the sleeping pills. It would be too easy. A handful of pills, a gulp of water, and an hour. That’s all it would take. It’d be so much faster than waiting for the Estrogen to take effect.

She made up her mind. She stood up and reached for the bottle of Estrogen. She decided to dump it down the train so she’d have no reason to change her mind.

Her hand was literally two inches from the shelf when her phone chimed. She paused, then reached down to check it. A text message. Three words. “Love you - Jeremie”

Aelita sighed. Put the phone back in her pocket and reached for the medicine cabinet again. She grabbed a bottle, twisted the lid, and with only a moment’s hesitation, dumped the whole thing into the sink. She turned on the faucet and let the water push every last pill into the drain. She turned off the water and tossed the empty bottle into the trash can nearby.

She reached up for the other bottle. Unscrewed the lid, and dumped two pills into her hand. She opened her mouth, leaned back, and swallowed them. Then she twisted the lid back on and put the bottle back on the shelf. She smiled.

Because no matter what happened from that day forward, she promised herself that she’d never regret letting the sleeping pills circle the drain.

Do you know what it’s like to hate everything about yourself?
To hate your hair style and the shape of your toes?
To hate every thought in your mind and every word that you speak?

Do you know what it’s like to plaster a smile on your face?
To fool the world that you’re happy, and to fool yourself?
To pretend that nothing hurts, and that this act actually matters?

I know what it’s like to hate everything about myself.
I know what it’s like to plaster a smile on my face.
What I don’t know, is if I can do it again tomorrow.

Empty

Here I am again, sitting in the kitchen with a glass of milk, staring into space and wishing I was anywhere or anyone else. It’s an odd night that I’m not sitting here awake at 3am. I know I should go back to bed and take another stab at sleep, but it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Today is Christmas day, and in a few hours, children all over town will be waking up to colorful boxes under a lit tree, but not in my house.

You see, two years ago, I did something so absolutely horrible that my own wife left me, and she took both of our children. It’s not really as bad as I made it sound, I guess. I didn’t rob a bank or kill anyone.

I remember when I decided to tell her. I wrote up a speech; I practiced in front of a mirror; I even talked to my councilor about the best way to approach the subject. I knew it would be a tough shock to her, and probably the kids too, but I honestly believed that our love was strong enough that we could work through it.

I told her that I had already talked to our preacher, and that he tried very hard to convince me that I was wrong. I tried to explain that I’d felt for years that something wasn’t quite right, and that if things didn’t change, I would probably go crazy.

So here I am, alone in an empty house at 3am, remembering the exact moment that everything changed. I can still feel the way our family tore when I first told her that I no longer believed in Jesus Christ.

I die today. Did you know that?
No, I suppose you don’t.
I guess I didn’t show it. I’m good at that. The hiding.
I pass you on the sidewalk, and I might even smile at you.

I died today. Do you care?
No, I suppose you don’t.
I guess you couldn’t. You didn’t even know.
But you said something. Maybe a cruel name or a snide comment.

I died today. Did you do it?
No, I suppose you didn’t.
I guess it’s my fault. I took it too hard. It was just joking after all.
I did it to myself after all. I took it too seriously.

I died today. Can you do anything?
No, I suppose you can’t.
It’s too late. I’ve died. Hundreds of times.
And now there’s nothing to do. It’s become a cycle that can’t break.

I didn’t die today. Did you stop it?
Yes, I suppose you did.
I almost gave up. I did give up.
But you knew. You cared.

And I’m not sure I would be here if you hadn’t.

What if emotion were colors?
What if a tear could turn your whole body blue?

What if a smile could turn you yellow?
And a laugh into pink?

What if lonely was a deep purple?
And hopeless was grey?

Joy could be gold,
And green would be apathy.

I wonder, then, would people still ignore it?
Would they be able to ignore depression?

In Some Possible Future

Author's Note: This little piece was mostly done as an assignment by my councilor, so it's not really in my usual style. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Sam knocked on the doorframe to get his fiance’s attention. “Can you take a break from grading papers to come have dinner?”

“Of course. Just let me finish this one and I’ll be right out.”

A few minutes later, Kylie made her way to the joint kitchen and dining room to find Sam filling a bowl with spaghetti. When he was finished, Kylie filled herself a bowl and the two sat at the table to eat.

“It’s your turn to start,” he reminded her when she sat down. “How was your week?”

Sam and Kylie had been together for nearly a year, and they’d made it a tradition to check in and decompress over dinner every friday night. Without fail, one of them would cook and the two would sit down and talk about their week.

Kylie told him about her week. She told him about the funny things that the other teachers shared during their break and complained about the one student that really tested her patience. She told him about the new computer program she was working on and the book she’d just finished reading. He listened attentively and made the occasional comment or joke to make her smile. He liked making her smile.

And she liked making him smile. When she was finished, it was his turn. He complained about some of the customers at the restaurant he was a waiter at. He laughed as he told her the story of his buddy getting so drunk he fell right out of the booth at the bar he was at the night before. He mentioned that his sister had called him and confirmed that she was coming to their wedding.

He stopped abruptly when Kylie seemed to freeze up at the mention of his family. Kylie really loved Sam’s family. It was her own she had a problem with. She’d disowned her family about 10 years before. And as her wedding came closer, she found herself thinking of them more and more.

“Is everything ok?” Sam asked.

Kylie smiled and took a bite of her food. “I’m fine. Did she say if she was bringing a guest?”

“No, just her. Her husband couldn’t get time off work. Plus, she needed somebody to stay home with the kids.”

The two chatted a bit more about the wedding. There wasn’t really much to talk about. They’d both decided that they wanted a simple wedding with just family and a couple of close friends. It was only really one step up from eloping.

When they were finished talking, Kylie gathered the dishes and started cleaning.

“I can do that, if you’d like,” Sam offered.

“I don’t mind doing them,” she answered. “There’s only a few. You can put the leftovers in the fridge if you want.”

So the two worked together to clean up the dinner mess. Just as Kylie finished drying her hands, her cellphone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID, then answered, “You’ve reached the lunatic on Sunset Street. Please state your favorite colour and wait for a response.”

“You know it’s pink,” the woman on the other end laughed.

“Hey, Dorothy. Is everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine. I just wondered if you’d like to come over and check out something I just found.”

Kylie looked up at Sam. “Dorothy wants me to come over and visit. Were you planning anything special?”

“Nope. I figured we’d just veg on the couch and see if anything good is on the DVR.”

“Rain check,” she told him. Then to the phone she said, “I’ll be over in 20 minutes.”

After disconnecting, she pulled her fiance into a big hug and pecked a kiss on his nose.

Kylie put on her walking shoes and grabbed her jacket on her way out the door. She put her headphones in and made her way through the familiar streets to her best friend’s house. When she got there, she just let herself in. “Hey Dot!” she called.

“I’m in the living room,” Dorothy answered. When Kylie entered the living room she found Dorothy with a notebook.

“Is that my old journal?”

“Yep. I found it in some boxes in the attic. I guess it got left when you moved out. But that’s not the best part!” she teased. She opened the book to reveal a photograph. It was only taken 10 years earlier, but that picture felt like a whole lifetime had passed in those years.

That picture was of the two of them, the very first time they’d met. They’d both changed so much, but in other ways, not at all.

Dorothy had learned to see herself the way her friends saw her, and it had improved both her physical and emotional health. You could just see that the Dorothy in the picture was struggling to be happy, whereas the Dorothy holding the notebook was genuinely glad to be alive.

And Kylie. Kylie had changed even more. She’d grown up, that’s for sure. But more startling was her physical change. That picture was of a boy she barely even knew anymore. It had taken her several years to build up the courage to come out publicly, but with the support of her friends, she’d made leaps and bounds since then. She had decided not to pursue the Surgery. She still sometimes doubted that decision, but she knew that she didn’t need to change her body that drastically to be a woman. All it took were some people who believed in her. And she just needed to be one of those people.

But all in all, she was proud of who she was. Looking at that picture, she knew she was happy with who she’d become. She’d kept the best parts of that boy, and replaced the less desirable parts.

Messages

Kayla dropped her school bag and immediately flicked on her computer. She was eager to see if Tony was online. She had met Tony by accident three months earlier, when she’d mistyped a friends IM address, but she’s glad she did. Tony had become one of her best friends, and she was always excited when he was online.

Soon, her computer emitted it’s usual welcome chime and Yahoo Messenger loaded. Kayla’s excited mood was deflated when she saw that he was offline. Kayla sighed, and started on her trig homework.

She was about two thirds of the way through when she heard the chime of an incoming IM.

tonydove: Hey cupcake!

Kayla put her math book off to the side and pulled the keyboard out so she could type

kaylacupcake; Hey Tony. How are you today?
tonydove: not bad, got lost on the trains today
kaylacupcake: Oh no! Did you at least get unlost?
tonydove: Of course
tonydove: im back home now
kaylacupcake: Was it scary?
tonydove: not really
tonydove: it was like it didnt even feel real
tonydove: nothing has seemed real in the last few days
tonydove: except for you...

Kayla’s heart skipped a beat. That was probably the most romantic thing a guy had ever said to her.

kaylacupcake: I’m sorry?
tonydove: dont b, probably just the depression meds doing their job
kaylacupcake: Maybe.
tonydove: was school fun at least?
kaylacupcake: It was fine, my lab partner didn’t show. She like disappeared over the weekend or something.
tonydove: that sucks
kaylacupcake: bbs
kaylacupcake: Mom’s calling for dinner.

Kayla had dinner with her family. She enjoyed the meal, and she loved her parents, and even her bratty little sister, but she kept wishing she could get back to talk to Tony. But by the time the food, chatter, and dishes were all done, Tony had logged off.

As Kayla finished her homework and slipped into bed, she wondered what Tony was like for real.

***

Tony felt bad for leaving the chat so suddenly. He had gone downstairs to see if his parents had made dinner yet to find that they still weren’t talking to him. They’d had a really big fight Friday, and they had been giving him the silent treatment since. Since Sunday, they wouldn’t even make a plate for him for dinner. He made a bowl of ramen in the microwave and took it back up to his room. Three could play at that game.

He logged off of Yahoo because he didn’t think it was fair to complain to Kayla about his parents, which he knew he would end up doing.

***

Kayla’s alarm woke her with a jolt. She slammed the snooze button, but climbed out of bed anyway. She looked into the full length mirror on her wall and thought about the dream she’d just had. She’d dreamed herself making out with Antonia, her lab partner from school.

“I’m not a lesbian,” she told her reflection. And really, she wasn’t. She didn’t notice the girls the way she noticed the guys. But for some reason, her dreams had featured Antonia more and more in the last few weeks.

She changed into her school clothes and headed for the bus stop, grabbing a pop-tart from the pantry on her way out.

The bus ride was boring as usual, but the monotony was abruptly shattered when she arrived at the school to be greeted by Missy, her best friend. “I know why Antonia hasn’t shown up all week.”

“She’s only been gone three days, that’s not ‘all week’.”

“She attempted suicide,” Missy continued, unabashed. “Apparently she jumped off Overlook Bridge Saturday morning. She’s still alive, but she won’t wake up.”

***

Tony got up and went to school, as he usually did. As usual, nobody even paid attention to him. But he guessed it was a nice change from the usual sneers and violent looks he used to get.

The only person he really minded ignoring him was his lab partner. He’d taken a fancy to her, but she acted as if he didn’t exist. She’d started doing all the work for both of them this week.

He turned around to check the clock, and he noticed something outside the windows. Two senior boys were throwing punches in the Quad. The girl who sat two rows up from him noticed it at the same time and told his teacher. The entire class ran to the window to watch as the teacher ran outside to break it up.

The fight was over quickly. One of the boys split when he saw the teacher, the other boy was grabbed by school security and lead to the vice principle’s office.

When the bell rang, he followed the crowd of people heading toward the buses. When he chose a seat right next to his lab partner, he said, “You know, you have to talk to me some time. We are working together.”

But she didn’t respond. She didn’t even glance at him, so he rode the rest of the ride in awkward silence.

***

Kayla was glad to be home. As usual, she couldn’t wait to jump online and tell Tony all about her day. He wasn’t on when she got on, but there was some offline messages waiting for her. They were timestamped about 10 minutes ago.

tonydove: Hey, bbs
tonydove: im gonna c if my parents are done being stupid yet

She left him an offline message in reply.

kaylacupcake: Ok, I’m going to take a shower. Talk to you when I get back.

***

Tony went downstairs to talk to his parents. He really hated this silent treatment that they were giving him. It seemed like that’s all anybody gave him anymore. He was very glad for Kayla, at least she talked to him. He wished he could meet her in person.

He checked the kitchen and the living room. Then went back upstairs to check their bedroom. They were not home.

He went back to his own bedroom and signed back onto Yahoo.

tonydove: Kayla, you there?
kaylacupcake: Yeah. Did you sort things out with your parents?
tonydove: not home. can we talk?
kaylacupcake: What do you need to talk about?
tonydove: not online, in person

***

Kayla smiled at the screen. She had wanted to meet Tony, but she didn’t want to scare him away. She knew they were in the same city, but it was a big city with lots of high schools, so he probably didn’t go to her school.

tonydove: hello?
kaylacupcake: Yeah, I’d love to meet in person? Where?
tonydove: Starbucks on Main and 5th?
kaylacupcake: I’ll head over right now.
tonydove: What are you wearing, so I know who you are
kaylacupcake: I’m wearing a light blue shirt with Hello Kitty on it.
tonydove: ok. im in a plain black shirt, blond short hair
tonydove: ok c u soon

Tony’s account went offline, and Kayla’s did the same. She left a note for her mom saying that she’d gone out with a friend, and that she’d be back in about 3 hours, then headed for the bus stop.

***

Tony thought about leaving a note, but decided it wouldn’t matter anyway. His parents didn’t care about what he did. So he grabbed his wallet and started walking.

Ten minutes later, he arrived at Starbucks and chose a table facing the door. He planned to order when Kayla arrived, but for now, he would just wait.

It wasn’t a long wait before a teenager with a blue Hello Kitty shirt walked in. He knew the girl from school. He sat right next to her every day in Chemistry, and she hadn’t spoke a word to him all week.

He stood up and met her at the door. “Why are you ignoring me?” Tony asked.

She didn’t answer. She ordered a grande hot chocolate, and ignored him completely for the next half hour, no matter how hard he tried to get her to respond to him.
***

As Kayla took the last sip of her drink, she looked at the clock. “I guess he’s not coming,” she admitted to herself.

She waved a friendly goodbye to the woman behind the counter and headed out to wait for the bus. It wasn’t even a minute before it came, and soon she was back home.

As she stepped into her room, she couldn’t help but cry a little. She really cared about this boy, maybe even loved him, and he had just stood her up on their first meeting. She was beyond angry, she was furious.

She logged back into Yahoo, with the full intent to yell at him until he crawled under a rock and died, but before she could even type a word, a message came in from him.

tonydove: why did u ignore me @ sb?
tonydove: did i do sumthing rong?
kaylacupcake: I didn’t ignore you, you stood me up.
tonydove: wat r u talking about
tonydove: i was rite in front of u
kaylacupcake: What are you talking about?
tonydove: here, call me
tonydove: it’s hard to explain on yahoo
tonydove: 555-0165
tonydove: just give me a couple secs to get downstairs

Kayla wasn’t sure why, but she did believe him that he had not intentionally leave her standing.

kaylacupcake: calling now

***

Tony went downstairs to the kitchen phone to talk to her. His parents had made it home, and his mom looked like she’d just gotten very bad news.

“Mom, Dad, we need to talk. But first I need to take the call that’s about to come in.”

His parents continued to ignore him. He stared at them, flabbergasted at their insistence that he wasn’t there.

The phone rang.

***

“Hello” a middle-age female voice answered the phone. Kayla noticed right away that she sounded tired.

“Hi, my name is Kayla. Tony asked me to call,” she explained. “Can I talk to him?”

“Antonia isn’t here right now. She’s in the hospital. The doctors say she might not ever wake up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m looking for Anthony, not Antonia.”

“Then I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, well, sorry to bother you.” Kayla hung up the phone thoroughly confused.

***

Tony’s eyes went wide at his mother’s conversation with Kayla. The name “Antonia” rung a bell in his mind. Memories came flooding back. An entire life trapped in a girl’s body, and eventually, his (her?) suicide.

“But it wasn’t suicide,” he realized. “She’s still alive, in a hospital.”

Things started falling into place in his mind. He rushed upstairs, taking them two or three at a time.

There was a message waiting for him on his computer.

kaylacupcake: Did you give me the right number?
kaylacupcake: I got a woman who didn’t know who Anthony was.
kaylacupcake: I think it was the mother of my lab partner

Tony started typing furiously, pounding out the realizations.

tonydove: i am antonia
tonydove: i dont no y, but im here
tonydove: thats y no1 can c me
tonydove: my body is in the hospital
tonydove: i am in a coma
tonydove: and …

He hesitated.

tonydove: i think i no how 2 bring me back

***

Kayla read his posts with skepticism. She found it a little too strange.

kaylacupcake: Why are you just telling me this now?
tonydove: i didnt no
tonydove: it was mom saying “antonia” tat brought back the memories
tonydove: will you help me?

Kayla thought for a moment before she replied.

kaylacupcake: Ok. I’m not saying I will, but, if I did, what would you need me to do.
tonydove: just tel my mom 2 call me by my real name
tonydove: tell her to call me Anthony.

Kayla picked up her phone and pressed redial.

“Hello?” a male voice answered this time.

“Sir, my name is Kayla. I am one of Antonia’s friends. And I think I know why she tried to kill herself.”

She heard the man sigh. “All right, why?”

“Because she wanted to be a boy. I know her as a boy named Anthony.”

“You mean like a lesbian or something?”

“I don’t really know, and I don’t understand it, but I’d like you to do something. I need you to call him Anthony, and ask *him* to come back.”

“And why would I do that?” the man demanded.

“If it works, you have your child back. If it doesn’t, no harm done, right?”

***

Tony climbed into his dad’s car with him as his dad drove to the hospital. It was clear his dad didn’t believe a word Kayla had said, but he was willing to try anything. Tony was sure that his dad loved him, more than anything in the world.

When they arrived at the hospital, the dad checked in with the nurse at the front desk, then went straight back to one of the ICU rooms. Tony followed steps behind, but the shock of seeing his female body lying on the hospital bed hooked up to so many machines was overwhelming. He had to step out of the room and breath.

***

Kayla sent another IM, but Tony’s account had switched to Away mode, so she knew he wouldn’t get it right away.

kaylacupcake: I did what you asked me to do.

***

Tony heard his dad through the ajar door. His dad was praying to God to get his daughter back. He was promising Tony that he would be a better father, and that he would always be there if she needed to talk. He blamed himself for his daughter’s suicide attempt.

“Look, I don’t know if this will work, but I’ll try anything,” his dad was speaking directly to Antonia’s body now. “I don’t know if you can hear me, and I don’t know if you’ll care, but I need you back. Anthony, you can be a boy if you want to; I promise to help in any way I can, if that’s what you need. But I need you to wake up.”

Tony’s perspective suddenly jarred. He was no longer standing in the hall listening; he was lying in a hospital bed, looking up at his father. He could feel his eyes flickering open, and the light burned them, but it was a good burning. He felt his father’s hands let go of his own hand just before he was wrapped in a tight hug, or at least as much of a tight hug as was possible in the hospital bed.

“Oh, Antonia, I was so worried,” his dad cried.

“Please, don’t call me Antonia,” he struggled to say the words, but they needed to be said. “My name is Anthony, or Tony. Not Antonia.”

His dad nodded and hugged him even tighter.

***

Two months later, Tony and Kayla found themselves at the same Starbucks on 5th and Main.

Tony had made a very fast recovery, and an even faster transition. His parents gave him everything he needed to be a boy. He had a whole new wardrobe of boy’s clothes, and a binder for his chest. They even promised they’d find a way to pay for breast removal for his 17th birthday.

“Have I told you how lucky I am to know you, recently?”

“Only about every hour or so.”

“Have I showed it recently?”

“How do you -”

She was cut off abruptly as he leaned across the table and touched his lips to hers.

“I have wanted to do that since the first day I saw you in Chemistry class.”

She leaned across the table and kissed him back, deeper than their first. “So have I.”

No Matter What

At the Meeting

“I'd like to introduce everybody to Dorothy,” a young man introduced the young lady who followed him
through the door. “I asked her to come with me tonight. I think we can help her.”

“Hey, Dorothy, welcome to TAN,” an older woman welcomed her warmly.

“TAN?” She asked, confused.

“Trans Alliance Network,” the young man explained. “Have a seat. The couch isn't all that comfortable, but the
chair over there is.”

“My name is Amanda,” the older woman introduced herself. “Nice to meet you, Dorothy.”

“Likewise. Call me Dot, please.”

“Hey, Dot! You hungry?” The young man she'd come in with was digging in a cabinet filled with various
snacks. “We've got Cheez-its or pretzels.”

“Oh, toss me the pretzels!” the teenage girl who just walked through the door called out. “Sorry I'm late. I got
caught up at my girlfriend's house.” She plopped down on the couch and curled up with one of the pillows
there.

“You should bring her sometime. I'm sure she'd have fun.”

“I was gonna bring her today, but she has soccer practice.”

“Oh well, maybe next time. Kara, this is Dot.”

“Nice to meet you,” she leaned forward to shake Dorothy's hand.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Anthony won't be able to make it today. He has a doctor’s appointment.”

“I hope that's a good thing,” Amanda commented.

“I dunno, he just said he had a doctor's appointment.” the young man closed the cabinets and tossed a bag of
pretzels to Kara before sitting on the arm of the couch.

“What did PFLAG say about using their space for our meetings?" Amanda asked the man. “It feels weird
having them in your personal house,”

“I really don't mind,” he laughed, “but they told me that their space is already booked during our meetings.”

“I don't mind either,” Kara said. “You've always got good munchies.” She grinned at him as she reached into
the pretzel bag.

“Hey, be nice to Jose,” Amanda scolded lightly.

“He knows I'm joking.”

“So, girls, what's new in the last two weeks?”

“My mother called me,” Kara said sadly. “I don't know how she got my number, but she called to see if I was
through my 'phase'.”

“Oh, sweetie, are you ok?” Dorothy asked.

“I'm fine, I just got to thinking about the last time my mom said 'I love you'. It was a very long time ago. She
told me she'd love me forever, no matter what. That was just before I came out to her.”

“It's ok, Hun, you're safe here,” Amanda comforted Kara as she wiped away her tears.

“I-it's ok,” Kara stuttered. “I need to talk about it.”

Kara’s Story

“I had a very caring mom. If I came home crying about some girl, she’d be at my side and talk to me until I felt
better. If I was struggling on a test for school, she’d stay up late into the night helping me study. I loved her.
My mother used to tell me I was God’s gift to her. She’d prayed and prayed and prayed to God that she
could have a son, but no matter how many times she tried, she never got pregnant. It took her 3 years before
she got pregnant with me.

Even after she got pregnant, so many things went wrong. My father died while I was still in her womb, and
with him, her sole source of income. So she had to get a job while she was pregnant. She ended up getting a
job working at Walmart as a cashier. Of course having to be on her feet 30 hours a week was difficult,
especially when she was in her third trimester, but she did it for me. She used to tell me that God gave her the
strength she needed to make sure I was cared for when I was born.

The strangest thing is, she was even willing to buy me girl’s toys when I was little. When I asked Santa for
barbies rather than toy cars, she always made sure I got them. She even gave me a make-up kit for my 11th
birthday.

Then when I was 13 she started going to a Mormon temple. I noticed that she suddenly changed. Suddenly
everything that had even the tiniest to do with being feminine was against the rules. She threw out my Harry
Potter books, and started preaching at me.

About 4 months later, I turned 14. The day after my birthday, my friend Hannah convinced her mom to give
me shelter if things didn’t go right with mine and then encouraged me to tell her. She told me that she knew I’d
have to do it eventually, so why not then?

So I took Hannah’s advice, and I asked my mom to sit down and talk with me for a bit. I told her I had
something to tell her she probably wouldn't like. I asked her not to be mad at me for it and to listen to me all
the way through. She promised me right then that she would still love me. She said ‘I promise. I’ll love you, no
matter what.’

She lied.

I told her how I felt, and how I’d always felt. I explained to her that I could never be comfortable living as a
boy. She told me that I could either ‘quit that foolishness right now or get out of my house.’

I chose the latter. I packed up some of my things and I left. I only stayed long enough to give Hannah a call
and tell her I was coming over. Her mom met me about half way with her car and took me home. Well, it
wasn’t home that night, but it’s become home. Mrs. Snyder has been wonderful. She took me in the way my
mother wouldn’t. I’ve lived there for the last 2 years now and she’s been a better mother to me than my own
mom ever was.

I think getting kicked out of my mom’s house was a good thing. It helped me meet Sarah; and we’ve been
together for 8 months now. She knows all about my status and loves me anyway. And it helped me transition,
too. Within two months of moving in with her, Mrs. Snyder had found me a whole new wardrobe and
encouraged me to be who I was. With her support and guidance, I was able to start being Kara even at school
starting in August, and it’s made me happier than you can even imagine.”

Back at the Meeting

“Aww, Hun, it’s ok.” Amanda moved to the couch and pulled Kara into her arms. “It’s ok,” she repeated.
Kara curled up against Amanda and closed her eyes. “And then my mom had to turn around and try to screw up
everything I’ve worked for for 2 years!” Kara slammed her fist against her knee. “Two years, Dammit! I did it
without her help, and I’m going to keep going if it kills me.”

She perked up, “I do have some good new though...” She waited impatiently for somebody to ask what it was.
Jose gave in first. “Well? What is it?”

“Mrs. Snyder is going to adopt me. Legally. That way she can start helping me with my transition medically. She
wants to start me on hormones but the doctors won’t do it unless I have parental consent."

“That’s awesome!”

“Mhm. She says she thinks she can get the courts to take me away from my mom for neglect or abandonment or
something like that. And since I have no other living relatives, she thinks she can convince them to let her take
custody. She’s been taking care of me for the last two years anyway. I don’t know all the legalities of it, but I’m
still very excited.”

“I would be too. There really isn’t any better feeling than when you first start taking hormones” Dorothy chimed
in. “I remember when I first started on them.”

Dorothy’s Story

“I had been seeing a councilor for about three years and I had just started living full time as Dorothy. Everything
was going wonderfully. I had just quit one of my jobs. They weren’t very accepting about my situation, but my
second job was wonderfully accepting. And it just turned out that they were looking to hire a new full-time tech
support. Up until then I had only been working part time as a programmer. My boss was extremely understanding
when I came out to him. When I told him what happened with my other job, he suggested that I apply for the
open tech support job so I could get more hours.

I got the job, and with it, a pay raise. Everything seemed perfect. I had a referral to a endocrinologist, and a best
friend who had been by my side the whole way through. That is, until I told her I was about to start hormones.

I didn’t expect her to freak out so much. It was like she suddenly became a whole different person. She started
telling me that I didn’t want to do that. Seriously, as if she knew better than I did. She started saying that dressing
up as a woman was one thing, but that I was being stupid by actually trying to become one.

The strangest thing is, Janette even knew that I wanted to be a woman. We’d even talked about how I was
going to afford the surgery. She was always right behind me. ‘No matter what.’ That’s what she always said.

She lied.

Janette was the only friend I’d kept through my transition. Every single other person I considered a friend had
abandoned me when I started living as Dorothy. Some even before that, when I told them I had been diagnosed
with GID.

I thought Janette was different. I expected her to stay by me the whole way. We’d been friends since middle
school. I helped her get through her bad family life. She knew everything about me, and I thought I knew
everything about her. But, I guess I was mistaken. That’s what you get for believing in people, I suppose.

But on the bright side, the endocrinologist found that I was healthy enough to take hormones. I started on them
pretty much immediately. I’ve been on them for about two years now. Without Janette’s support. I was looking for new
friends, people who accept me as me, so I accepted Jose's invite to come today. I’m sad to have lost such a long term friend, but that’s what I get for wanting to be whole.”

Back at the Meeting

“That’s horrible!” Kara exclaimed.

“Unfortunately, that’s all too common,” Amanda noted. “Most people simply can’t accept us. We fall outside
their little comfort bubble.”

The room settled into an uncomfortable silence with nobody really knowing what to say.

“You know, I think I have some ice cream in the freezer if anybody wants some.”

“Oh that would be great, Jose,” Kara smiled at him, “Thank you.”

“Of course it would be great for you, you never stop eating.”

“Hey, I gotta keep my girlish figure,” she stuck her tongue out at him.

“I can’t figure out how you eat so much but always stay so skinny,”

“I’m on the track team at school, I burn off all the calories.”

Jose went into his kitchen and pulled out a half-gallon carton of ice cream. He grabbed four bowls and filled them
up before passing them around.

The group sat in silence and ate the ice cream until Jose spoke up again. “I know how hard it is to loose a friend,
Dot. I lost the very best friend I’d ever had. I’m still technically married to him, you know.”

Jose’s Story

“I met him when I was 19. We were both on the college soccer team. I was the only ‘girl’ who made the cut, but
I was better than most of the boys. The only one who was even close to able to beat me was Marcus. We made
a friendly little rivalry out of it during practices. We even started playing 1 on 1 between classes a few weeks
into the season, just to keep in track, and of course for him to try to beat me. He very rarely ever could. He was
a great forward, but his defense needed a lot of work.

I remember when we won our last game of the season. We didn’t make the finals, but we sure had a lot of fun.
Right after the game, Marcus asked me if I’d like to go out to dinner with him. I was going to say no, but he
offered Applebees. How could I say no when my teammate and best friend was offering to take me to my
favorite restaurant. I agreed to let him take me out, but only under the condition I payed my half of the bill.

I don’t remember too much about the date itself. It mostly seemed like two friends just hanging out. But he
asked me out again the next weekend. And then again just 2 weeks later. By that point it was pretty clear that it
wasn’t just friendly hangout time, he was actually asking me out on dates.

He proposed to me exactly one year from our first date. My dad was planning a Bar-B-Que for his
work-buddy’s birthday, so he invited me and suggested I bring Marcus along. Right before my dad announced
that the food was ready, Marcus dropped to his knee, held my hand, and told me, ‘Amora? Somewhere between
beating me at soccer and helping me through the loss of my father, I feel in love with you; I would like to spend
the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?’

Three months later, we stood at the alter. That is the one and only time I have ever worn a dress in my entire
life; I wouldn’t even let my parents put me in dresses when I was little. But I remember him coming up the isle
and repeating the vows. And just before he kissed me, he looked me in the eyes and promised me ‘I’ll always
love you. No matter what.’

He lied.

Oh sure, our marriage was wonderful, for a time. I loved him, and he loved me. Until I had my breakdown. Just
after our first anniversary, he asked if I was ready to have children. At that moment, everything I had tried to
bury down inside me came flooding back up. I had a complete mental and emotional breakdown.

No, I didn’t want to have children! I couldn’t do that, I’m not a woman!

But of course I didn’t tell him that. How could I explain how horrible it felt to hate yourself simply for being a
woman? How could I explain how appalling the very idea of being pregnant was? How could he ever understand
how much I envied him just for being male?

So I fell into a depression. I could barely survive a day-to-day. Half the time I couldn’t even be bothered to get
out of bed. I had Marcus scared that I was going to die if I didn’t eat anything. He kept making me go to the
doctors but no amount of anti-depressants could bring me out of it.

Eventually it was too much. I attempted suicide. I would have succeeded too except that Marcus came home
early that day and caught me with the knife. I hadn’t even had a chance to finish writing my goodbye letter
before he took the knife from me and threw it into the other room so I couldn’t get it. He made me explain
myself, right then and there. I wasn’t able to talk so I just pointed at the unfinished letter.

He read it. I explained almost everything in that letter, from how much I hated being a woman to how much I
loved Marcus and how sorry I was to have hurt him by taking my own life.

He insisted I see a psychologist that specialized in GID. He even chose one out for me. He chose Dr. Waltley.
Waltley did specialize in GID, but his ‘speciality’ was in making the feelings go away, not helping his clients lean
how to deal with them or possibly transition. That doctor made me feel horrible for feeling like I did, and even
more horrible because Marcus wanted the core part of who I was to simply ‘go away’

Two months after he found me with the knife and the letter, he told me to get out of his house. He said that no
‘psychogirl’ could live under his roof. He gave me $2000 dollars to ‘get me on my feet’ and told me not to mess
up his life again.

He didn’t ever ask me to sign any divorce papers. He simply stopped talking to me. I haven’t heard a word from
him since.”

Back at the Meeting

Everybody stared at Jose as he finished his story. It was the first time any of them had heard him really talk
about Marcus. Kara and Amanda had heard Jose mention him before, but he never really said anything important
about him.

“You still love him, though,” Amanda observed.

Jose looked up and nodded. “I love him more than anything else in the world.”

“He’ll come back,” Dorothy said quietly. “He loves you too, or he wouldn’t have asked you to marry him.”

“I doubt it,” Jose wiped the tears off his cheek. “It’s been 5 years since he kicked me out.”

“Oh,” Dorothy sighed. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he told her. “I just find it ironic that one of his favorite things about me was how
much of a tomboy I was.”

“Can I have more ice cream?” Kara asked to break the strain.

“There’s more in the freezer. Help yourself.”

Kara got up and served herself another bowl of ice cream. Just before she sat down, her cellphone went off. She
put her bowl on the coffee table and promised to be back. She stepped outside an answered the call.

“Hey Sarah.” “The meeting’s still going. Maybe in about half an hour.” “Yeah, sure, I’d love for you to come.
Jose keeps bugging me about you.” “Yeah, come on over. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

Kara said her goodbyes to Sara and went back inside. The first thing she noticed was that Jose had stopped
crying and was back to his normal cheerful self. She sat down and took her ice cream. “Sorry about that. Sarah
was on her way home from soccer practice and was asking if I needed a ride home. I told her we weren’t done
yet, but she was welcome to come hang out with us.”

“About time,” Jose grinned. “We’ve only been bugging you for the last 6 months.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kara waved him away. “She’s a very busy girl. She barely has time for her own activities. She
doesn’t get much of a chance to just hang out. She even has to schedule time to hang out with me, otherwise
we’d never have any time together.”

“That’s kind of sad.” Jose said.

“It’s the way it is. But I know she loves me, so I’m ok even if we don’t get much time together.”

Just as Dorothy was about to say something, they heard a knock at the door. “Come on in Sarah!” Jose told the
door.

A teenage girl opened the door. She was tall and slim, but she had a strong presence. She had her medium length,
dark blond hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. She was still wearing her soccer uniform, but despite her tomboy
appearance, she still was a very pretty girl.

“Hey Hun, come sit with me,” Kara patted the seat next to her. “Everyone, this is Sarah. Sarah, this is Amanda,
Jose, and Dot.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah greeted everybody. She made her way to the couch where the sat next to Kara, who
curled up against her.

“I suppose since everybody else has shared their stories, I should probably share mine,” Amanda said.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Amanda’s eyes got a far-off glassy look as she spoke.

Amanda’s Story

“It will have been 2 years exactly next Thursday since I asked my kids to sit down and have a talk with me.
Cody was living with me because he was fighting with his mom, but Mike was 19 so he’d already moved out and
was attending college on the other side of the country. I asked him to come home for Thanksgiving break so we
could talk.

Anyway, I sat down Mike and Cody and told them I had something very important to tell them. I told them that
it would not change who I am, and that I would always love them.

I remember that moment vividly. Cody was a sweet 14 year old. He asked, ‘You know how you always tell us
you’ll love us no matter what?’ Then he told me ‘We love you too, Dad. No matter what.’

He lied.

When I explained what transgender meant and what I needed to do to be happy. He asked me if I was ‘some
kind of faggot or something.’

I don’t even know where he heard that word. I’ve never once said it to him. But he knew it and he wouldn’t
listen to a word I said after that. He was too busy calling me a ‘sissy’ and a ‘fag’ to let me talk. He told me that
he was going to call his mom and make her let him move back in with her because he didn’t want to live with a
crazy man who thought that he was a girl.

Through my whole exchange with Cody, Mike sat in his chair and just watched. He didn’t say a word the entire
time. Right up until Cody stood up and pushed me. Mike jumped out of his chair and pushed Cody against the
wall and growled ‘You NEVER hit a woman. PERIOD.’

Now I don’t condone violence, but what Mike did make me incredibly happy at that moment. He called me a
woman. He didn’t hesitate about it. He didn’t ask me ‘Are you sure?’ He just accepted.

Unfortunately, Cody carried through with his threat. He did call his mom and make her come and pick him up.
I’ve only seen him one time since, when he came to move his stuff out of my house. I’ve done what I can to try
to get him to talk to me again, but he hangs up the phone the second he realizes it’s me, and my ex told me that
he didn’t want to talk to me, so she wasn’t going to let me into her house to talk to him.

I still hold hope that he’ll come around eventually. He’d be 16 now. I know he’s ok, even if he does still fight
with his mom a lot. Mike still talks to him every weekend and makes sure to let me know how he’s doing. He’s
getting above average grades in school and he has a girlfriend, who I’ve never met and might never meet.

Apparently he tells his schoolmates that he doesn’t have a dad anymore. He says that I’ve moved away and
stopped talking to him. It breaks my heart to see him hate me as much as he does. But at least I still have Mike.

He’s coming to visit for Thanksgiving again this year with his brand new BA. He settled down in a town near
the college he was attending, and this is the first chance I’ll have to see him since his graduation. I was not able
to make it to his graduation because of money problems.

It will be the first time ever that he’ll see me as Amanda, and I’m so excited!”

Back at the Meeting

“I’m glad you still have Mike,” Dorothy commented. “And Cody will come around. He’s still young, he needs his
parents, and he knows it.”

“I hope so, Hun. I expected worse, to be honest. I expected both of my kids to hate me for it, or at least pretend
it didn’t exist.”

Jose noticed the clock and jumped out of his chair. “Oh my God! I almost forgot. I have to go pick up my
neighbor from work. Feel free to hang out here as long as you want. I’ll be back in about an hour.” He turned to
Kara, “And no more goodies for you tonight.”

“Kara laughed at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t eat you out of house and home. At least not this week.”

“Why do you have to go pick up your neighbor?” Amanda asked.

“Oh, his car wouldn’t start this morning, so I offered to give him a ride to work. He asked me for a ride home too
since he wouldn’t have his car. He’ll be getting off in about 20 minutes and it’s a half hour drive.”

“I should probably go anyway,” Dorothy stood up. “I have a bunch of house cleaning to do before my sister
comes over for dinner.”

“Well in that case, we should wander home too,” Kara grabbed her purse. Sarah stood up and helped Kara to her
feet. “Thanks for letting me cry about my mom.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re here for, Hun,” Amanda stood up. “But since everybody else is leaving, I might as well
leave too. Sorry to wrap up the day on such a bad note.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a bad note. It’s good news about Mike coming to visit, but if you’re all leaving, I’ll have to rush
you out so I can lock the door behind us.”

Dorothy left first and waved back at Kara and Amanda as she climbed in her car. “Thanks for letting me come
to your meeting today.”

“Oh, come anytime. It gets kind of boring with the same people every week.” Kara said.

Amanda said, “You’re welcome here anytime, Dear. Thank you for trusting us with your story.” she turned to walk to her
own house just a few blocks away.

Kara climbed into the passenger seat of Sarah’s car. After a quick kiss, Sarah put the car into drive and drove
off. Kara gave a quick wave back to Jose as they passed.

Jose climbed into his own car and pulled out of his driveway. He pulled his car up next to Dorothy’s and rolled
down the window.

“Thanks for coming Dot. I hope you’ll come back next week. Same time, same place. Maybe you’ll even get to meet Anthony next week. You know how to get hold of me if you ever need anything. But,” he glanced at the dashboard clock, “I really should get going. Bye Dot.”

He rolled up the window. Dorothy watched as he turned the corner before closing her eyes. She let herself feel
the love that Jose, Amanda, and Kara had showed her that day. It was a love she hadn’t felt before. It was
unconditional and completely accepting.

Dorothy turned her key and drove home, making a mental note to make sure to come to next week’s meeting.

The Archivist

I am the Archivist. My sole reason for existing is to observe and record what happens on your planet earth and its nearby galaxies. I am forbidden to interfere. In this, I fulfill my purpose.

This record begins 46 earth years ago. This is but the span of but a single breath for Archivists, but is half a lifetime for Terra’s dominant species. The subject of this record goes by more than one title. The subject goes by Edward, but also Alice. They go by Daddy, but also daughter. This subject has grabbed my attention.

She has lived a less than friendly life. She lost her father when she was very young. Then she had a horrible man take advantage of her vulnerability. This record is missing a few minutes of history, just two weeks before Alice never saw that man again. Suddenly, her step father felt the desire to move and leave the horrible man behind forever.

For many years after this, I was content to just observe. All things were in my sight, but only she did I watch. But then something happened that started a very fast downward spiral. A patient in the mental hospital that Alice worked at became violent. He pushed her into a wall, and she responded. She shoved him back, causing the patient to break a shoulder against the door. She was fired from her job two days later.

There are no more holes in this record, but another girl of half as many years has a gap of a full day. I adjusted this girl’s path so that she would enter the life of my Alice.

It took a year and a half, but eventually the two came together. A thousand miles (that is a lot for humans) and twenty years separated them, but they soon became best friends. And, just as i hoped, I watched Alice’s decline slow. Then I watched her become stronger and stronger. She expressed actual happiness for the first time. She was alive.

But, I have twice broken the sole law of the Archivist. I have interfered where I was meant to observe. The punishment is clear, and this will be my final record. I have already chosen my successor.

***

My name used to be Alice and Edward and Daddy and Daughter. But no longer.

I am the new Archivist. My sole reason for existing is to observe and record what happens on your planet earth and its nearby galaxies. I am forbidden to interfere. In this, I fulfill my purpose.

The main door opened and a young man, maybe 25 or 30 years old, stepped into the small space between the solid iron door and the thick iron bars. “Meal time,” he called to the prisoner, who cowered in the far corner of the dark cell, her eyes closed against the unfamiliar light.

He laid a tray down on the floor and pushed it through the small slot under the bars.

He waited a moment, looking wistfully at the child. A minute of sad silence later, he stepped back out, closing the heavy door, returning the prisoner to darkness.

He sighed, and turned to his superior who stood stiffly just to the side of the door. “Why do we keep her locked in here. Surely she has done nothing wrong. She's just a child.”

The older man looked uncomfortable as he answered. “We do it because it is the way it has always been done,” he said. “She is dangerous, and in danger. There's nothing else we can do.”

The Visit

Note: Contains some strong themes, including suicide. Please take care when reading.

“Fuck!” Natalie screamed at her bedroom door as she hit it hopelessly with the side of her clenched fist.

“You really shouldn’t cuss,” the girl sitting on her bed commented softly.

“Who the fuck are you?” Natalie demanded.

“You may call me Lauren, if you must call me by a name.”

“And you’re sitting on my bed... why, exactly?”

“Because you needed me to be,” Lauren answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody.”

“I beg to differ,” a young male voice disputed from her computer desk.

“What the fuck! Who are you people?” Natalie demanded.

“You may call me Nathan. We are here to help you.”

“I don’t need help. I want you both out right this second.” She pointed at her bedroom door.

A young hand touched tugged on her jeans. Natalie looked down to see a young girl staring up at her with wet eyes. “But Natty, we can’t leave. You called us here.” Her voice sounded like a child’s, but the little girl clearly had more wisdom than she should.

“What do you mean I called you?”

Lauren offered her hand to the girl. “Nicole, come here.”

Nicole took Lauren’s hand and curled herself against Lauren’s body.

“We really are sorry to surprise you like this. But this is how you called us,” Nathan opened a desk drawer and lifted a spiral bound notebook. He opened it to one of her more recently written journal entries. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he read. “I’ve lost my best friend, and it was my fault. I should have been there to stop her. She killed herself last night. She was found this morning in the bathtub with the word ‘Broken’ carved into her arm.”

Tears spilled from Natlie’s eyes at the last few words. “She called me that night,” she sobbed. “She told me that she would not see me at school the next day. She told me that she didn’t want to bother anybody there. She told me that she wasn’t going to be the problem any more. I should have put two and two together. She was my best friend!” Her legs were shaking, so she used the door to support her as she slid to the floor with her knees held tight to her chest.
“I told her I’d talk to her in the morning, but morning was too late.”

Nicole pulled herself away from Lauren and put her small hand on Natalie’s knee. “It’s not your fault she was sad.”

Nathan flipped a few pages in the diary and read aloud from a new entry. “I am not good enough. I can’t get the grades my parents expect. I can’t force myself to smile for my friends, I couldn’t even stop my best friend from committing suicide.”

“I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t observant enough. I wasn’t supportive enough. I wasn’t perfect enough.”

Lauren watched as Natalie wiped her face with her sleeve. It was pointless though, because another wave of tears arrived seconds later.

Nathan flipped a few more pages to that morning’s entry. “I’m ready. Tomorrow, when I get home from school, I am going to kill myself. I have already written my goodbye note. I’m going to do it the same way Beth did. I even bought the razor on my way home from school yesterday. This will be my last entry.”

Lauren picked up Natalie’s backpack and pulled a small box of razors out of the side pocket. She tossed them into the trash without a word.

He turned to the next page. “Dear family, I’m sorry I left you like this, without any warning. I wish I could ask you for help, I wish I could ask anybody for help, but nobody would understand. I want you to give my computer to Sarah, and I beg that you will deliver the envelope in the top drawer of my desk to Sean. I want him to know it’s not his fault. Other than that, I don’t have anything to give, but I can at least make sure they don’t have to deal with me anymore. I love you, and I’m sorry.”

He laid her journal on the desk, still open to her goodbye letter. “I wish I could ask you for help. I wish I could ask anybody for help, but nobody would understand.” Lauren repeated. She was on her knees in front of Natalie. She used one finger to lift her chin and looked Natalie directly in the eyes. “We understand. We are here to help.”

“We are always here to help, whenever you need us,” Nicole’s child voice seemed to echo in the room.

There was a soft silence between the four of them, with Nathan, Lauren, and Nicole all looking at her compassionately. Natalie closed her eyes and enjoyed the serene feeling.

The silence was suddenly broken by a sharp knock on the door. “Dinner in five,” her mom called through the door.

“I’ll be right out,” Natalie promised. Then she noticed that she no longer felt the touches of the girls, her eyes flickered open to find her room empty.

“It was all a dream,” she whispered sadly. She forced herself to stand up and she noticed her diary was still on the desk, open to the goodbye letter. When she went to close it, she noticed a message written under her own:

The note was only a single word, “Always.” but it was signed by Nathan, Lauren, and Nicole.

The water cascaded down.
She reached in, turned the shower's knob
The temperature was perfect

The water cascaded down.
She pulled off her clothes, stepped into the shower
The water felt perfect

The water cascaded down
She let the water flow down her skin
The pressure was perfect

The water cascaded down
She felt it washing away the imperfections
The cleanliness was perfect

The water cascaded down.
She closed her eyes, and let it wash her away
For once she felt perfect.

The water cascaded down
But nobody was around
Because she couldn't be perfect

The Wormhole
by Kylie Wheeler

Perhaps you'll see me sit and smile
Head up, eyes dry, and a grin on my lips
But please don't watch too much

Perhaps you'll hear a soft laugh
Joyful, happy, and kind-hearted
But please don't listen too much

Perhaps you'll feel me touch your hand
Tender, caring, and soft
But please don't feel too much

Because if you watch, you might see a tear
Because if you listen, you might hear a sob
Because if you feel, you would know

Those are the days, when a smile hides a tear.