Night Entries, Chapter 2:
This is intense stuff, people. Read with caution, and as always, comments are appreciated.
I couldn’t go through with it. I’m such a coward. I guess I have no choice but to keep on going, even if life makes no sense. I can only hope its a short life, since there doesn’t seem to be any hope for me.
I feel like some kind of zombie. I’m just going through the motions, not living at all. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’ve kinda stopped talking to God, since He doesn’t seem to listen anyway. The other day I actually screamed at Him, I was so mad. But even that didn’t change anything. Just how long will my torment last?
My knee feels better, which is okay, I guess. I got to thinking about what happened with my dad and realized it would be pretty selfish of me to kill myself and leave my body for my mom to find after she’s already lost him.
Its getting close to Christmas and the lights look pretty and even the snow somehow looks better.I don’t know if I’m any better, but I’m going to try and survive.
Merry Christmas, Diary!
It was actually a nice Christmas. John is just glowing with his new-found faith. I’m still struggling with mine, but I’m happy for him. As for my gender stuff, well I have a confession. I’ve been crossdressing, “borrowing” my mom’s stuff. I don’t know how to describe how I feel dressed, there are so many different things going on. There’s the guilt, of course. That’s to be expected. But there is this brief moment of relief, like I put down something super heavy I hadn’t even realized I was carrying. I feel light, and free and …
So what do I do about that?
Well, its the last day of the year, so I’ll say goodbye, diary, until next year.
Here’s hoping its a better one.
Happy new year, Diary!
I decided I’m going to do more boy stuff, and get rid of my desire to be a girl that way. I’ve started letting my facial hair grow out, and I’[m going to sign up for Track when school comes back in. Maybe if I look more like a boy and act more like one, I’ll feel more like one too.
Well, I’m back to school, and I signed up for Track, so that’s part one of my plan done. I’m also starting to get pretty fuzzy on my face as well. Weird thing is, its coming in red. I’m blond, diary, I mean really, really blond, so how come its coming in red? Ah well, the point is I’ll look like a guy, and doing track will help too. This is going to work, I can feel it.
I broke my arm, diary! I was practicing hurdles and I fell over one and broke my left arm. Funny thing, I didnt even know it at first. My arm was numb and I couldnt close my hand, but it didnt start to hurt badly until I went to the school dance. I started dancing, and then the pain hit, and I’m ashamed to say I passed out.
The vice principal took me home, and mom took me to the doc who found the break. I’m in a cast now, and I guess Track is going to be a no go. There is a meet coming up, and I’m signed up for a long distance race, maybe I could still do it anyway?
Well, the race is over, and I finished dead last. For a while, I was able to keep up, but my endurance just wasnt up to the task. But the teacher seemed impressed that I tried and that I at least finished the race, so I guess that’s okay. I look weird with a red beard and a cast, but at least I’m not getting called “fag” every day.
I gave up on the beard. It just feels ugly and wrong to have one, I couldn’t look at it anymore. And its pretty obvious I’m never going to be a jock. How am I supposed to fight this need to be a girl now?
We’re moving, Diary.
The company my step-dad works for is pulling up stakes thanks to the N.E.P. killing the oil patch, and they are going to Denver. I’ll slip you into my books, and hopefully mom wont look too closely. I don’t want to lose you, it feels like you are a real friend to me, maybe my only friend. Kinda sad, isn’t it?
Hay, diary, welcome to Aurora, Colorado. Its a little bedroom town just outside Denver. Its pretty, and its a lot like Calgary, to be honest. The weirdest thing is, I’m no longer in Junior high. Grade nine is part of high school here. I hate transferring schools in the middle of the year. Maybe that’s a good thing, nobody will even expect me to make a lot of friends. If I’m lucky, I can stay under the radar here.
My mom caught me in a nightie last night. I had found it on my way home, and like an idiot, I put it on and then asked for a cup of hot chocolate. She accused me of stealing it, which sucks. Now she thinks I’m a thief as well as a pervert. Not only that, the tension in the house is getting hard to take. She and my step-dad are constantly fighting. Not fun.
My mom hasn’t brought up catching me again, which is good. If she’s willing to forget it, so am I. The worst part of it was that she shouted about buying me girl clothes, and more than anything I wanted to say to her, “Yes, mom. I want girl clothes”. Meanwhile, the tension is even worse around here. I think my step dad is drinking even more than normal, and I’m worried.
Diary, I’m going to have to make this quick. I grabbed you on my way out the door, and am writing this while my brother looks for a place for us to stay. Things came to a head, and my step-dad hit my mom. I snapped, and grabbed the axe we use for the fireplace and seriously came close to using it on him. But instead, I just shouted at him that he wasn’t worth it, and dropped the axe. Then he picked it up, and was going to kill me, but my brother drop-kicked him.
We then went and grabbed a few things and left the house. We are hanging around my church, and John’s looking to find if he can get a hold of someone to let us in, so we could stay the night. Can life get any suckier?
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