After the tragic suicide of Arianna, a high school aged trans-girl, her brother and her mother, as well as the trans community as a whole, honor her memory and try to find a way to heal.

Part I

Prologue

These past couple of weeks were the most terrible of my life. I found myself using more “I never thought this would happen” kind of sentences than I ever imagined. And I’m sure my poor grief stricken mother did as well. But honestly, we never did think it would happen to us, you know, the kind of horrible shit you hear about on a talk show, related by teary-eyed family members who can barely keep their shit together. And when I used to watch those kinds of shows, I’d have trouble keeping my shit together too. I would feel the rage build within me to the point I wanted put the pieces of shit who hurt or killed these poor people’s loved ones through a goddamn wall or a plate glass window. But I don’t watch those kinds of shows anymore. I don’t watch them anymore because I’ve lived them. Now I find myself seriously having trouble keeping my shit together because I’m so devastated and angry at the cowardly bigoted pieces of garbage who killed my sister, well, my trans-sister to be precise, not that it really matters whether she was trans or not. She’ll always be my sister, and I’ll carry her memory with me for the rest of my life. So by now, I’m sure you’re wondering who killed her and why. Well, just bear with me while I tell the full heart-wrenching story, and you’ll come to know more than you probably ever wanted to know.

Chapter 1

It was only early evening, but I had certainly gotten a head start. I was already one can short of finishing my six-pack, but the evening news was just beginning.

And now for our top story: It’s been one week since the tragic suicide of High School student Arianna White. An unfortunate victim of relentless cyberbullying simply because of the fact she was transgender, she decided to end her torment the only way she knew how, by taking her own precious life. And since the original airing of this story, and despite attempts to interview family members regarding the events leading up to her death, they continue to decline our offers and have yet to issue a statement. However, the very vocal transgender community refuses to remain silent…

Click!

I turned off the television because I couldn’t take anymore of the continued rehashing of my sister’s untimely death.

I glanced over at the end table, at the growing collection of empty cans. I had poured them down, one-by-one, but they failed to drown out my anger, bitterness, and sorrow. Then I looked over at the conspicuously absent person on the couch. Mom was still in bed, still an inconsolable wreck and probably more numbed by alcohol than I was at this point.

I padded down the hallway in my dingy socks and tapped on the door.

“Mom. Mom?” I whispered.

But there was no answer. At that moment, I’d be lying to you if I said I wasn’t worried because I broke out in a cold sweat because it was too eerily quiet, the ticking of the clock the only sound. It reminded me of the terrible quiet on the morning when I found my sister, left arm draped over the bed and pill bottles scattered on the floor. But this time, instead of pill bottles on the floor, there were pill bottles on my mom’s bedside table. And I wondered if they were as empty as the bottle of vodka next to them.

I fought back tears as I walked over to check on her.

Tapping her on the shoulder, I said, “Mom. Mom?”

I breathed a sigh of relief when she stirred.

“Hmmm?” she mumbled, rolling over to face me. “What time is it Eric?”

“About a quarter till seven.”

“It’s that late already?” she wondered.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I just came to see if you changed your mind, you know, to see if you want to go to the candlelight vigil tonight.”

“Will it bring my baby back?” she said coldly.

“C’mon mom. You know that’s not the point of going.”

“Well, then what is the point?” she asked, with vacant cried out eyes.

“To honor Arianna’s memory. To remind people that this kind of terrible shit still happens and that it needs to be stopped.”

“But will it?” she said with glistening eyes. “Will it ever stop? Can it…Based on all of the hateful comments and PMs she tried to hide from me, I…I just don’t know. All I do know is…I don’t know. I just don’t anymore.”

“Well here’s what I know mom: a lot of good people are going to turn out to remember her, some of them from her High School too.”

“Well,” she began, “Where were all of those supportive classmates when she needed them? Where was the outpouring of support then?”

I just stood there, not even able to summon enough energy to shrug my shoulders. My mother’s reply to my silence was to roll back over and groan.

I said, “I’m gonna to go. For what it’s worth, I’ll be there.”

Instead of saying what I was thinking, “too little, too late,” all she could manage was, “Just be sure on the way back to stop at the liquor store. I’m runnin’ low.”

Once again, I remained silent.

“Okay?” she quietly commanded, glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Sure mom. But take it or leave it, maybe you should try and take it a little easy. I worry about you.”

“I don’t need a lecture right now Eric. Your father used to lecture me and I hated it. It’s the last thing I need right now. Besides, I lost my daughter right after I was coming to grips with losing a son. So what difference does it make if I lose my liver?”

Once again, all I could do was stand there as helpless as a scarecrow. I mean, what was I supposed to say to that? What could I say? I lowered my head at the futility of it all.

Finally, I bent down and gave mom a kiss on the cheek.

“See ya later mom.”

Despite my lame show of affection, she remained as still as the stale remnants in her smudged water glass.

I exited my mom’s darkened room as quietly as I had shuffled in and headed back down the equally dimly lit hall.

I grabbed my keys from the hall table with my right hand and downed the rest of the beer from the six-pack with my left hand.

As I got into my aged F-150 truck, I took a long hard look at the bloodshot eyes and two days worth of stubble of the weary face looking back at me in the rearview mirror. All I could do was shake my head at the wreck I had become.

At that moment, I felt like such a hypocrite for telling my mom to go easy on the booze when I had just climbed into a vehicle as loaded as I was. But there are a lot of things I shouldn’t do, chief among them being letting my temper get the best of me. Numerous recent dents in the drywall of my mom’s place can attest to my LTF, or Low Tolerance for Frustration as my exasperated guidance counselor put it.

Setting better judgment aside, I backed out of the driveway and headed out of the neighborhood, eyeing the speedometer the whole time. I didn’t want to give the cops any probable cause like before, when I got slapped with a DWI and landed my drunk ass in jail. But it was different this time. My sister was dead, and to be perfectly honest, I didn’t give an f any more.

I turned on the radio, but like the television news program, I was quickly reminded of the light that was my sister, the pure light that had been extinguished. One of her favorite songs was playing on the radio and I found myself crying like a baby. I was sobbing so hard that I had to pull over to the side of the road to pull myself together.

Gazing up at the stars through the slightly fogged windshield, I was beyond desperate. I pleaded with whoever or whatever might have been looking down on me.

“Why her? Why Arianna? Why did she have to die? Why couldn’t it have been me? I don’t understand why. She had so much going for her and so much to live for. I never did. I…I just don’t understand. It doesn’t make any damn sense! You should have taken me. You should have taken me!”

About half a mile before I got to Arianna’s high school, I pulled off onto the shoulder of the lonely and narrow two lane highway and cut the engine. The door creaked open and I stumbled out onto the gravel and waded into the chilly air of late fall. Then, after regaining my balance, I made my way toward the start of the path that led to the school.

Memories flooded my mind as I negotiated the darkened path, coming into view in my mind’s eye as quickly as the leaves that were falling to the ground.

I managed a half smile when I remembered walking with my sister (well, technically my brother at the time) on her first day freshman year. In hindsight, I should have suspected she-I mean he-was trans. I should have known by the way she swung her arms to freely away from her sides. I should have known because she always insisted on having longer hair. And I should have known based on how self-conscious she always was about her clothes. She never seemed comfortable in any of the boy clothes she wore. And now I was feeling as uncomfortable as she was that first day. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how many people were going to turn out. And more importantly, I didn’t know how many damn reporters were going to turn out. All I could do was wear my discomfort like the jacket I was clutching closer and closer to my body.

It felt like a near death experience as I neared the end of the path. Light seeped in through the web of branches and vines. At first, it seemed like I was looking at a snapshot of a dusky summer evening, what with all of the points of light dotting the exit, points of light like a swarm of fireflies caught in amber. But then, some of them started to move, and when I got to the end of the path I saw the hands that were below them. And there were a lot of hands holding candles, a lot more than I expected.

Now I was really starting to get nervous. I stopped dead in my tracks and loitered near the end, concealed for the moment by the web of criss-crossing branches, barely concealed like the pain I was trying to push deep down inside.

Now, I’ve never been known to shy away from a crowd, but now I knew how my sister felt at an entrance to a party! She was always on the shy side. But I couldn’t afford to be shy now. I had to summon the nerve to be there for her now. There were so many times I had let her down when she needed me most, when she was still alive, when I had taken her generous nature and infectious laughter for granted. She may have passed on to the next plain of existence or her next life, but she now needed me more than ever. It was time to step up to plate and man up. But first, I needed a cigarette. Oh God, did I need my nicotine fix!

As I lit it up, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the irony. She had manned up so to speak more than I ever could have when she finally dug deeper than she ever had in her life and found the courage to begin living a life true to herself, when, with heart pounding in her chest, she braved the gantlet of questioning and hateful eyes of her classmates when she started coming as Arianna after winter break of her freshman year.

The cigarette slowly burned like the anger within me. And I think someone mistook my lit cigarette for a candle, because I heard the steady approach of footsteps after taking only a few drags.

“Eric? Is that you?” inquired a short blonde-haired girl rushing up to greet me.

I studied her familiar face and her familiar bouncy hair, and, may I add, her familiar large boobs.

In response to my crinkled brow, she added, “I’m Arianna’s friend Kelly. I came over a few times.”

“Yeah, I remember…Sort of. I guess I was kind of drunk…like I was earlier this evening.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” she said, averting her gaze somewhat. “They keep looking for you…the reporters I mean.”

Studying the crowd in the distance, I replied, “Yeah. I see them circling…like vultures.”

“I guess they’re still looking for that statement,” she said.

“Then they’re going to go home disappointed. I mean, what else is there to say that hasn’t already been said in this town, in towns just like this one all across the country. They might as well play clips from videos on youtube from other candlelight vigils, like the one last year. I don’t think anyone would notice the difference. There’s nothing new to say about how much most cisgender people hate people like my sister.”

“But you should still say it Eric,” insisted Kelly. “It needs to be said. Maybe it’s more about how you say it and how many people hear it than what you say. And look around. Look at how many people care about what happened to her. And think about how many more people are going to be watching who care just as much, but can’t make the trip.”

I sighed deeply before flicking my cigarette on the ground and putting it out with the weathered sole of my boot.

Looking over Kelley’s shoulder, at the outpouring of grief and love, I was more deeply moved than I had ever been in my life. The scene was overflowing with purpose and determination.

Nodding, I said, “It’s time…It’s time. Something needs to be said.”

I had barely closed half the distance to the candlelight vigil in the courtyard between the wings of the school when the reporters’ faces lit up like Kelly’s candle.

Rushing past the outskirts of the mourners, the reporters accosted me with a barrage of questions, but I ignored them as I headed to the center of the courtyard. And it was there at the center that I stood next to the makeshift shrine for Arianna and bowed my head for a few moments while I composed my thoughts. The silence was deafening.

Looking past the reporters and the cameras, I directed my attention toward the sad faces.

“There are so many things I do not understand in my short and insignificant time on this Earth,” I began. “I don’t understand what it’s like to be transgender. I don’t know the hell you have to go through being trapped in the wrong body. I can’t fully understand the hell my sister Arianna must have gone through before having the courage to be who she was meant to be. I don’t understand why some people feared and hated her for just being the wonderful person she truly was, for just trying to live her life like any other normal high school girl. And she was a girl. Anyone who knew and loved her can attest to that, like my mother, and her best friend Kelly, and me. But a lot of people didn’t see it that way, couldn’t see it that way. Maybe they never will. And it is those people who I want to address now, the people who tortured her day after day, after day, the bigoted cowards who hid behind facebook to say horrible things about her, things that made her cry herself to sleep every night, words so hurtful she felt the need to cut on herself. It is to those people that I say this: Why? Why do you have such hate in your heart? How could you look at her and only see a thing or a freak and not the wonderful human being she is…was. If anything, you all forfeited your own humanity when you all sunk so low. And for that, you should be deeply ashamed, just like I should be ashamed that I was so absorbed in my own problems that I didn’t see all of the pain my sister was going through. But it’s too late and I have to live with it, just as ya’ll will have to live life poisoned by the hate flowing through your veins. Unlike you, Arianna was a pure and loving soul. Maybe that’s what you secretly hated, not the clothes she wore, or the way she talked and walked, but her soul. Maybe you all were jealous of her, so jealous that you decided to poison her with your hate. You hated the fact that she was living a life true to who she was on the inside, and that she was at peace with herself, and that she had only one face to show to the world. That’s why you hated her. That’s why you drove her to suicide, because even on her worst day she was better than you on your best day. And we just can’t stand for that, can we…Now here’s what I do understand. I know that something has to change. These candlelight vigils have to stop. The list of names read on the Transgender Day of Remembrance needs to stop getting longer. No family should have to go through what my mom and me are going through right now. Please, just let transgender women and men live their lives in peace and let God judge. After all, isn’t that what being a good Christian is all about?” I paused before continuing again. “Anyway, I guess that’s all I have to say. Thank you to everyone who came out tonight to honor Arianna’s memory. It means a lot to my mother and me. Thank you all.”

I had spoken my piece, and now, all I wanted to do was to retreat to the safety and comfort of the darkened path that lay behind the all of the tearful faces.

I shied away from looking anyone in the eyes as much as I shied away from the cameras. The crowd parted and just let me be, respecting my need for space much more than the reporters. But there was one person who thankfully couldn’t just let me be, Arianna’s honorary sister.

Jogging up next to me, Kelly spoke softly.

“That was really nice, what you said about Arianna,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks. Now maybe the reporters will leave us in peace.”

“Hopefully,” she added.

Kelly remained quiet for a few moments before saying, “I was thinking, some of us are going to hang out later…Do you want to come?”

Hands in my pocket, I replied, “I don’t know. Where are you planning on going?”

“We’re thinking about going to the lake. You know, to get away from all of this for a while.”

“Hmmm…Arianna always did like it there.”

“That’s why we’re going,” said Kelly.

I looked up at the stars and stood there with my hands on my hips while I thought it over.

“It hasn’t been this clear in quite a while,” observed Kelly. “Maybe we’ll see a shooting star.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “If I did, I know what I’d wish for.” I could feel the tears beginning to sting my eyes once more. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Hey,” said Kelly in a half whisper. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I dunno. I don’t think okay is in my vocabulary anymore.”

Kelly reached out to grasp my hand, but I pulled away.

“Sorry Kelly,” I said. “Maybe I’ll hang out with you guys some other time. Right now, I think I need to be alone.I don’t think I’d be very good company tonight anyway.”

“I understand,” said Kelly. “Just know that I’ll be here if you need me. Anytime you need to talk, just give me a call.”

Nodding my head, I wiped away a few tears before turning away. Then I put my hands in my pockets and walked away, toward the start of the path.

Fighting to maintain my composure the whole time, I jogged over to the entrance to the path before the dam within me burst. I stumbled into the dimness and collapsed onto an ancient piece of tree trunk on the right side of the path. I wept once more.

I looked up after crying myself out and could barely make out only a couple of stars. And I realized it didn’t matter if there was a meteor storm. I could make a wish on a thousand shooting stars, but it wouldn’t bring Arianna back. God, I missed her.

To Be Continued...