.Genderless.Episode.2.

“I’m home.” I call out half-heartedly and catch movement out of the corner of my eye.

And out of the darkness of the living room lurches my father.

“You're late.” Were the poisonous words that spilled forth from behind yellowed teeth.

I glance back at the clock behind him. “You said ten. It’s nine thirty.” I reply quietly and his look dazed look in his eyes sharpen. “You calling me a liar?” his words seethe and I bow my head and slowly shake it back and forth.

“Never. I must have misheard you. I apologize.” I respond and he nods. “Of course I’m right, now get the fuck out of my sight and don’t forget to take the trash out.”

And with that he turns and lumbers back into the living room. Most likely to pass out in his armchair until morning.

I sigh and stumble into the kitchen. Flipping a nearby lightswitch and grimacing as the greenish fluorescence flickers to life above me. Lit up before me is the poor rotten excuse for a kitchen I have long since tried cleaning.

I circle the enclosed room, yanking a frozen dinner out of the freezer, tossing it in the microwave, grabbing all the trash father’s left tossed around, and shoving it into the overflowing trashcan.

I hear my father coughing in the other room. Choking to death? Probably not. I open up the backdoor and heave the heavy bags of trash out into the night.

What had been a warm day had quickly been consumed by the icy grip of night’s razored teeth. Digging deep into the bones of any unfortunate soul who was caught outside.

It promised snow. Fucking snow.

End of the driveway I went, dragging the trash behind me. Long since my strength been sapped. Just struggling to stay awake long enough sleep again.

I toss the trashbags next to the few others that had found their way over here from the last week. The first one lands atop the others bouncing slightly but staying put. The second hits it and spills out into the street.

Vehemently I hear my voice curse in streams. And I trudge up to clean up my mess. A slight anger spiking in the back of my skull. I found myself stuffing the shit back into the bag more roughly than I should have.

“Bad day?” A grave voice echoes behind me. I clench my teeth to keep my heart from flying into my throat and out my mouth. I stand up and turn towards where I suspected the voice originated from.

“Who?” I start but then a tall, enshrouded boy steps out from the darkness and into the thin circle the streetlight cast. Like a man in the spotlight, he stares at me for a long moment.

“You seem frightened.” He says simply. Each word from his mouth almost a nail being driven into my skull. I cringed. He… smirked? A step forward, a step back. “You need not fear me.” He whispers and I find my ears perking at his voice.

“What do you want?” I manage to choke out and he cocks his head slightly, “Out of all the possible questions you could have asked you decided to ask one of the most generic…” He sighs and looks at me intensely.

“Well still, it’s still a legitimate query.” I reply harshly and he chuckles. “That it is.”

The sound of breaking glass echoes from inside the house, followed by my father’s harsh voice, “Now why the FUCK is the goddamn backdoor open?!?!”

I glance at the house in fear. Knowing exactly what awaits inside. “I have to…” I look back and see the boy was gone. I look around confused but could not see head nor tail of him or where he could have went.

I hear my father start screaming again behind me and whether I wanted to or not, which I didn’t. I headed back inside to deal with my father’s wrath.

.Genderless.Episode.1.

I slowly open my muddy brown eyes. My best friend looking down on me with a lopsided concern. “You were muttering in your sleep.” She says and I close my eyes again a yawn. “Was I?” I reply innocently and she starts to prod my exposed side.

“Yes…..” She growls. “And I have to admit I didn’t like what you were saying.”

I take a breath and roll over onto my stomach. “You rarely ever like what I have to say.” I point out and stretch.

“True. But that’s usually do to your pretty cynical observations of almost everything we do.” She looks over at the window. “You know you just slept almost the entire time you were over here…” I follow her gaze and notice the sun’s absence from the sky. Replaced with the sneering moon and lack of light.

“Ah…. Heh.” A loss for words. She looks at me. “When was the last time you slept?”

I think long and hard for a moment, “I’m thinking…. Sixty-eight, maybe seventy-four hours ago?”

Her eyes grew sad and I could make out a small frown etched upon her face. “He drinking again?” She asks simply and I look away.

“Kind of.” I mumble and curl in a ball.

“Want to sleep over?” She continues and I shake my head. “Thanks but if I don’t come home again he’ll probably change the locks again.” I reply quietly with my knees pressed gently into my closed eyes.

I feel my friend curl up with me, wrapping her arms around me and pulls me close, burying her face in my shoulder and we lay like that for a while.

She always does that when she doesn’t know what to say. And I must admit… I don’t mind it.

“Tomorrow we should do something fun.” She whispers and I nod. “I’d like that.”

The phone in my back pocket vibrates, causing both of us to jump in surprise. “God I hate that!” She laughs and I smirk dryly as I roll onto my side and pull out my phone.

Upon seeing his name on the screen I knew what to expect, and so the phone found its way back into my pocket, and my body found its way to its feet.

“Time to go?” She frowns and I sigh. “Yeah…”

She gets up and hugs me again. “Be okay, okay?” She asks and I nod.

“I always am.”

.Genderless.

Locked within this mental box. Bloodied fists beating upon every open surface. An echo of stifled pain contrasting with the sick sound born from the impact between beaten flesh and tempered steel.

I beg to know who I am. What I am. But my brain refuses to contemplate the thought. “No.” It says. “You are what you are and naught what you want to be.”

I’m screaming now. My voice dripping hopelessly passed silent lips. “But what if it was a mistake. What if I’m just a mistake?”

No response. And I’m left alone inside my head with those few words ricocheting off the walls like dulled razors.

My tears fall upwards. When I walk it’s always backwards. Could it just be faulty wiring? I’m not sure.

“Freak.”

“Freak.”

“Freak wake up.”

Mirror Image, Part 5,

13

I watch quietly as my room gets darker and darker.

The setting sun dipping below the horizon.

Taking with it the light.

And with the light.

The pain.

As the shadows grow longer and the remaining rays of light retreat back into oblivion.

I throw the covers off of me.

Feeling safe in the shadow’s delicate embrace.

I like how daytime can change so emotionlessly into night.

Like clockwork.

Each and every day.

I hear a call.

My name.

I sit up.

It must be dinner.

What else could it possibly be?

Not like I’m important enough to have anything of vital importance take place in my life.

I wait a moment.

In silence.

My name again.

I am needed.

Wanted.

For what?

I do not know.

But whatever it is, it has to be better than laying around moping in my room.

I sit up and get out of bed.

Stretch.

A yawn follows.

Then I stride forwards and open my door.

14

The dreaded light returns.

Reminding my eyes to hurt again.

Dammit.

Why can’t I ever get five minutes without something hurting?

The hallway was empty.

I rub my pale green eyes.

My name is called once more.

I make my way across the hall and down the stairs.

Into the entryway.

Everything emanated a sense of nostalgia.

Odd.

But not out of the ordinary.

I enter the dining room.

My father, mother, sister sat.

Waiting.

For me?

I take a seat at my usual spot.

Across from my sister.

Next to my mom.

Strange.

The way we all sat and remained silent for such a long moment.

Felt as though we were a portrait.

Their eyes were all on me.

Was it because I was the only one wearing my pajamas?

Or because they were observing me.

Making sure it was safe before they spoke.

They don’t need be.

I can’t hurt any worse.

Can I?

I think I’m just being a bit too stubborn with my way of thinking.

It’s pretty dismal and centers quite a bit on me.

Should stop and listen to what my loved ones want to say.

Who knows, it might help.

But as their mouths start to move, my eyes look down.

And I block out every word.

15

1…… 2…… 3……. 4.

I look at the ceiling, counting the seconds.

5….. 6…… 7…… 8.

Each second another lonely moment wasted.

9…… 10……. 11…… 12.

Left dwelling on the nightmares of my recent memories.

13….. 14….. 15.

I sit up.

I wanted to scream.

 Instead I take a deep breath and fall back on my bed.

I thought I felt its touch again.

Just my imagination.

I close my eyes for a second.

Open them then start once more.

1….. 2…. 3….. 4.