literature

Chapter I: I Am A Woman

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     She sat there with a vacant stare into the depth of the night, the stars twinkling just slightly as the moon shined up high. There were many things in this world she enjoyed; kittens, birds, even drawing. However, there were also things she hated in this world. Erin was not the type of person to just hate anyone or anything, just as most people are. However, there was absolutely one thing she could not stand… intolerance.

     Erin is not your normal 17 year old girl; in fact she is quite the opposite from what her society would deem as normal. Erin is a male to female transsexual. It is from this which her hate for intolerance stemmed. Reflecting on her life, Erin didn't see much to be so happy about other than she got to know her parents at their very end, instead of the display they put on for the public. She looked up to them as upstanding people who would have done nothing but the right thing, helping others and fighting for what is right. But what she learned that night was nothing but a joke to her… it seemed almost unreal.

     Off in the distance darkened clouds would rumble with a mighty vibration, flashes of light echoing throughout the sky. She'd smile at the sky and close her eyes, laying down upon the rooftop from her once sitting position. Down below, the giggles of children rang out as they wandered the street in search of sweets on this night…Halloween. 'To think, it happened a year ago today.' She thought as she began to drift off into a sleep. The clouds began to cover the crescent moon, the wind carrying droplets of rain a large distance from their source, letting themselves splatter onto the pavement of the rooftop and the skin of Erin's flesh.

     Feeling the water, her memory flashed back to that terrible night. Erin stood there in a long black dress, purse in her right hand, her glasses resting just so on her nose with small strands of blonde hair covering the lenses. "Mom… Dad… I… I'm…I'm a girl." Her soft voice spoke, months of practice obviously showing due to the feminine sound she made. From his recliner, Erin's dad, a balding man of about 40 looked up from his fishing magazine as Erin's mother, a lady looking to be thirty-five or so, turned around from the television to face her son and question him. "What did you say, Aaron?" She asked. Her father was silent, just staring at his child as she began to restate what she had said. "I am a girl." Her mother stood up sternly and grew a distorted look across her face, almost as if turning into the devil himself. "No you aren't. Go take that damn dress off right now and put that purse back wherever you found it." She demanded with such force, it was as if the flames of hell were rising beneath her feet.

     Her father's reaction was similar, but more silent. "No you are not, Aaron. You are our son, not daughter." He spoke in a quiet tone, the flames also seeming to engulf him as well but with much more fury than his wife's. "Y-Yes I am… I've always been a woman. I just never told you because I didn't know how…" Erin's voice was beginning to tremble as she felt the silent violence behind her parent's words, it was as if dozens of knives were being thrown at her from afar, and all were hitting their mark of her heart dead-on. Her mother began to cry and walked over to the kitchen counter, leaning over on it. "If this is a joke, you better stop now." She said softly, yet angrily. "It's not a joke…" Erin spoke almost under her breath.

     Thunder and lightning lighting up the whole room, she snapped back into reality as the rain began to beat down harder upon her, the clouds now having engulfed the sky as thunder roared with the flashes of light up above. Erin stood up and raised her right hand into her dark blue jacket's pocket, pulling out a lighter and pack of cherry cigarettes; swigging one out and into her lips. Stuffing the pack back into her pocket, she lifted her left hand and covered the lighter as she lit it against the cigarette, inhaling the smoke. The flame would abruptly go out and she shook it to see if it was empty. It was. Lowering her left hand, giving a light toss to it would send it over the roof, to plummet to the ground. Being this high up and listening over the sound of the rain, she couldn't hear it make contact with the pavement, but she was sure that it did. She sat back down, a small squishing sound of water happening upon contact with the liquid now covering the roof's floor.

     Erin sat there in the rain, wondering if the thunderous clap of the sky would ever cease. The memory of a year ago was still strong in her mind, especially on this night. Her memories began to surge again as she glanced back up at the sky and admired the blackened clouds before closing her eyes, letting the rain beat down upon her face.  "This isn't right. You were born a handsome baby boy, not a girl." Her mother called out in a rage. "You don't need breasts, a vagina, long hair, or soft skin..." Erin just stood there, silent as did her father across the room. Sitting in his chair, nothing but pure rage was in his eyes as he heard what his "son" had told them. Her mother just turned around and stood there, unable to face the truth. "Mom, I..." Erin began, but her father interrupted almost immediately. "Do not speak." "But..." His rage was much more explosive than her mother's, "I said do not fucking speak! Now, I will give you this option. Either stop pretending to be a faggot, or get the fuck out of my house."

     Erin was dumbfounded by her parent's reaction to her coming out as a woman to them. They had many friends who were either gay, lesbian, or were transsexuals as well... so she thought it safe to come out to them. How could she have been so wrong? "Barbara, go get me my case." Her father spoke softly, but still seething with rage.

     "Rick I don't thi-"

     "My case... Now."

     Her mother walked silently away, without giving further speaking to the case. Going into their bedroom, she grabbed a small silver case and came back out, handing it to the angry male. He opened it up and pulled out a small Glock .38 handgun and pointed it directly at Erin without hesitation. "Get out of my house."  Fear filled Erin's mind, body and soul to the brim. Never did she think that her father's own gun, which he got to protect all of them, would be directed at her… but this was it.

     Silently, she walked toward the door with her purse in hand and took hold of the doorknob with her right hand. As she began to turn the handle, she heard her mother begin to speak behind her.

     "Rick what are you-"

     A very loud sound rang out and echoed in Erin's ears. It was loud enough to leave a ringing sound, but what she heard next was even more frightening. A loud 'plop' sound seemed to echo forever in her mind, as she turned around to see her mother laying on the ground with blood coming from her head. White fragments of bone were coming out the back of her head and were somewhat scattered behind her in the pool of red fluid. She'd shake a bit and look up at her father, the handgun now up his mouth and aimed right at his brain. "Dad don't!" Erin tried to yell, but was too late. He'd pulled the trigger and a stream of red droplets sprayed from his head and onto the wall behind him, shards of bone and brain flying onto the back of his chair.

     She stood there for no longer but a minute fighting back tears as she turned around, and opened the door to leave. However, before she left she grabbed the telephone and dialed 911. Then she walked out of the door, and closed it behind her… vowing never to speak to any of her other family ever again; they were probably all liars like them anyway.

Erin opened her eyes and saw someone standing over her this time, looking to have a smile on his face. "Having fun up here?" He said gently, coming down to her level by kneeling. He was wearing a black trench coat and held a black umbrella in his hand, which was covered by a black fabric with white stitching. It was Zack, her friend who had taken her in. "You know, it's almost midnight…" He started as he began to stand back up. "We should probably get home. If we don't hurry, we're going to miss our chance to play some games." He'd lower his left hand, which was also covered with a glove but this one was white with black stitching to it. Erin reached up with her left and stood, tossing the cigarette down into the puddle she had sat.

"Let's go."
This is Chapter One to Ill Becoming. I would like some comments if you feel like it, just to know how it seems. As yes, as I said. The short story I did before was actually a redone rewording from this Chapter.

(I also had to wrestle with the damn "Add Text" button forever before I could even get the formatting right. Even now it still feels like something is wrong. Oh well.)

Chapter 2: [link]
© 2011 - 2024 Nakakumuro
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Nakakumuro's avatar

I'm actually continuing this now. Yay.