Macy

         Larkian slammed his fist into the wall again. It was haunting him again. Would it never cease? He shuddered slightly as that thought hit him. Certainly, it had been an accident. The woman clearly meant no offense. And who could blame her? It wasn't her fault she had gotten confused.
         He clenched his teeth, pulling his hand back to hit the wall again, but stopping halfway through the motion and collapsing against the wall instead, a tear forcing its way from under his tightly closed eyelids. To think that he might have to deal with this sort of thing for the rest of his life... It was too much. Why couldn't he be normal? All his life, that was all that he had ever wanted: To be a normal boy.
         He turned his back to the wall, leaning against it heavily and sliding down to a sitting position, his slender arms wrapping around his knees and hugging them to his chest. A soft sob escaped him as he buried his face in his arms, biting his lip and scolding himself inwardly for being so weak. He had always been weak. He probably always would be. He had thought that his problems had ended long ago, but... He could now see that they were really only beginning.

~†~

         "But why, Mommy? Why do I have to wear this dress?" Macy inquired, tugging lightly at her mother's apron strings. Her wavy brown pigtails swayed lightly as she tilted her head to one side a bit, as young children will often do when faced with a confusing situation. Her mother sighed a bit, dusting flour off of her hands as she explained to her young daughter the same thing that she had explained a hundred times before.
         "You have to wear that dress because your blue one isn't clean, and you can't wear a dirty dress to your grandma's birthday party. Now please stop asking Mommy questions and go play with your dollies. Mommy has to finish baking this pie for Grandma."
         "Not that, Mommy," Macy whined. "Why can't I wear pants like Bubby?"
         Her mother sighed again. "You can't wear pants like Bubby because you're a girl, and little girls wear dresses, especially when it comes to special occasions like grandmas' birthdays. Now please go play like a good little girl. Mommy's really in a hurry to finish this."
         "But Mommy..." Macy tugged on her mother's apron strings again. "I'm not like other little girls. I play ball, and cowboys and indians, and I catch bugs and play in the dirt, just like all the boys do. I'm not a girl, Mommy, I'm a boy."
         "I've had just about enough of this nonsense, young lady!" Macy's mother grabbed her wrist and wrenched it off of her apron, walking briskly down the hallway of the small home toward the young girl's room, leading her to the small shelf where her dolls sat. "Just because you go out and roughhouse with the boys and get your pretty dresses all filthy does not make you a boy. Now play with your dolls like a good little girl until it's time to go to Grandma's. And make sure you remember the card you made her."

~†~

         Macy sighed exasperatedly, running her perfectly manicured nails through blonde-highlighted curls. "I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times before: I'm sick of being treated like just another girl on the street. Just because I giggle over boys and paint my nails when I feel like dressing up doesn't mean I'm your typical everyday girl. In fact, I'm about as far from a normal girl as you can get. Sometimes I wonder why I wasn't born a boy." She turned to Lisa, her best friend, and tilted her head a bit before looking down at her hands, which were now clasped in her lap. "You believe me, don't you? You don't think I'm just being silly, or that it's just a phase, or that there's something wrong with me... Do you?"
         Lisa forced a smile, stepping forward to place a hand on her friend's shoulder in reassurance. "Of course I believe you, Macy. I'm your friend. I have no reason not to believe you."
         Macy smiled in return, not realising in her distress the falseness of her friend's words. In the years to come, she would look back and be disgusted by the behaviour of her "best friend for always". But that was alright... After all, what she didn't know then couldn't hurt her... could it?

~†~

         "Get out of my house! I never want to see you again! You are not my daughter!"
         Tears welled in Macy's eyes at her mother's words. "Mom, you don't understand... I wanted to tell you before, really I did, but I was afraid you wouldn't understand... You can ask Lisa, or Jessica, or Jaqulyn! They all know about the real me; they've been there almost from day one! They know all the research I've done, and all the pain I've gone through in making this decision!"
         "I've had enough of this! This is absolute nonsense, Macy! I can't believe you would treat me this way, after I raised you, and all I've done for you! I've never shown you anything but love, and I've always given you your heart's desires, and this is how you repay me? With some nonsense you found in books? I've heard what you've had to say, and it's absolutely ridiculous! Until you get this foolish idea out of your head, I don't want to see you walk through my door ever again!"
         Macy clenched her fists, tears streaming openly down her face now as she confronted her mother, the woman that had cared for her since infancy. The woman that had always been there for her, who had been like a sister or a friend, but who she could never have told this terrible secret... and yet she did. She had had to. Things would never be right if she hadn't.
         "Mother, I love you dearly, and I know how hard things have been for you. I know it was hard for you to raise Bobby and I by yourself. But you have to understand how I feel, too. This isn't just some way I came up with to spite you, and this isn't just a childish teenage phase. This is a serious problem, Mom, and whether you understand it or not, I've chosen to confront it the best way that I possibly can. I had hoped that when I told you about it, you would be the caring, understanding mother that you always were, and that you would support me in my decision."
         "This is absolute nonsense, Macy." Her mother's expression hardened. "And I will not have such nonsense in my house. Where you live, how you get by, I don't care. I want nothing to do with you so long as you harbour such foolish ideas." Here she pointed down the hallway, toward the girl's bedroom. "I'll let you get your things, but then I want you out. There will be no further discussion of this."

~†~

         It had now been ten years since Macy had spoken to her mother. Ten long, agonising years, filled with pain and tears and uncertainties and false hopes, only to make herself able to live life happily. But even now, it was difficult. She often longed to speak to her mother again, but couldn't because she feared another rejection, and she wasn't sure she could take that again. After all, it's one thing when your daughter comes up with a "foolish idea" that is beyond your capacity of comprehension; it's another thing entirely when they actually go out and do it. After all, hormones and surgeries had changed Macy significantly in the past ten years, and that would make it infinitely harder for her mother to accept that she had lost her "precious little girl". But that was alright. There was always a such thing as second chances, and Macy believed in them.

~†~

         Larkian shivered again as he thought of that woman at the store, his memories of the past finally subsiding for the time being. "Excuse me, ma'am, but... Oh! Good heavens! I'm so sorry, sir, it's just that from the back you looked..." The woman had looked horrified. Then confused. Then finally, as realisation dawned on her, disgusted. Which had actually surprised Larkian. Most people were so ignorant of the vast amount of different kinds of people in the world that they thought that people like him were the type of thing you would find in movies or novels, and that they didn't really exist. But it was alright. Larkian just shrugged the woman off and walked out of the store, completely forgetting about the card he had planned to buy for his mother. Only when he reached the alleyway out back of his apartment building did the full force of what had happened hit him. That was when he had broken down.
         He muttered darkly to himself now, brushing away the remnants of tears on his cheeks. Some man he was, letting memories get to him like that. He had been weeping like... A little girl, he thought darkly. I was crying like a little girl...
         He clenched his fist once more, but did nothing, merely standing there for a few moments before shaking himself and stuffing his other hand in his pocket. He couldn't get into his apartment without his key, after all. He shook his bangs out of his eyes as he pulled the key out of his pocket, the hand that had been clenched into a fist now sliding along the railing as he trudged up the steps. Upon reaching number two hundred and seventeen, he stopped, sliding the key into the lock and turning it. He then entered the apartment, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

~†~

         It was late afternoon when Larkian woke up. He brushed brown-and-ebony bangs out of his eyes as he looked at the clock. 2:39 glared back at him in bright red. He sighed a deep sigh, lying back on his bed for a moment before tossing his blanket off and sitting up, stretching a bit. He was dreading this day, but he knew it had to come sooner or later. He scratched the back of his head lightly, picking up a framed photo from his bedside table and gazing at it, his eyes softening a bit as he saw the woman in the picture. It had been ten years since he had last seen her, and his brother too. He wondered what she would think of him now. Probably nothing good, but he had to try anyway. He sighed again, setting the photograph on the table again and rose from his bed, shaking his hair out of his eyes again before he headed off down the short hall to take a shower. Then he would call.