It’s said that when death approaches you see your life fshing before your eyes. What a shitty life I lived. It wasn’t the worst of course, but then again, who wants to compete in this category? My life started one evening in a quaint town. A healthy baby boy with brown hair and eyes. Not much I can tell or remember from my baby years except for what was told to me ter in life.

  I was a curious baby that would get in trouble often, anything aside from that is of no importance. Instead I would like to focus on what I now understand was the beginning of my nightmares. At the age of four I was far more interested in things that would be designated as girly.

  Skirts and dresses attracted me more seeing as they were prettier in my eyes. There is this one anecdote from those years. I snuck up to my parents bathroom and pyed with my mum's makeup. Of course I had no idea of what I was doing back then so I ended up making quite the mess. Even then, looking back now I can tell why I liked pying with it as much as I did back then.

  Time passed and soon I realized that my behavior wasn’t normal for a boy so I forced myself to change. Even then, that attraction never left, I was only buried deep inside me. By the age of fourteen I was well aware that I wasn’t normal. Where boys my age would express their attraction to the female figure it differed immensely from my own. Where their attraction was fueled by the embers of growing lust, mine was by envy.

  I envied how pretty they were. I envied the clothes they got to wear. I envied how others treated them. That envy only group before turning into something else, mencholy. Then depression. The more puberty set in, the more my body felt foreign to me. The world turned gray not in a literal sense but in an emotional one.

  By the time I turned sixteen I had become the friendless quiet kid at school. The only people I could somewhat call friends were those I had made through the internet. I developed a liking for reading and menial crafts. Things that helped me escape the creeping depression I felt. Of course I hadn’t realized I was depressed at the time, nor the reason behind said depression.

  One fateful day my internet friends invited me to an anime convention. I wasn’t one for watching anime or reading manga much but I decided that it would be a good change of pace. What I didn’t expect was what came after the invitation. My group of friends wanted to cospy as a group of anime characters. Unfortunately the ratio of boys to girls differed in the groups. While my group of friends consisted of three boys and two girls the anime group was the inverse.

  “Let's leave it to chance!”

  That single phrase would change my life forever. We would roll dice and the one with the lowest number would have to crosspy, I got one. I remember the dread and anxiety I felt at the time. Years of conditioning fought against the idea. It was a war between wants and habits. In the end I made up my mind to go through it.

  Days passed as we got everything ready, building what was needed for each cospy. Buying the clothes and makeup. The day of the convention closed in and with it my anxiety and excitement mounted. Finally the day came and I was a wreck. I feared making a fool of myself.

  ‘Everyone will notice’

  That phrase wouldn’t leave my mind no matter what. Even when I sat down to have my makeup done by the girls it wouldn’t go away. Even after the wig was one I was scared. Then they uncovered the mirror and I saw myself. I was dressed in a simple japanese school uniform with round gsses resting on my nose.

  The wig, a purple color tied into a braid that rested upon my front. Lips painted a tantalizing red by lipstick with a soft blush on my cheeks from the makeup. My brows had been thinned and my eyeshes elongated by fake ones. Even my now shaved legs looked good under the skirt.

  The anxiety I had felt faded away as a rush of euphoria crashed into me like an avanche. I was stunned speechless as I studied my new features. Even the weight I felt on my chest from the padded bra felt good, almost as if it was supposed to be this way.

  “Whoa! You really look like a girl now!”

  I was pulled from my stupor by one of my male friends shouting all of the sudden. The guys had been busy preparing themselves in another room. However, that wasn’t important, not now. The complement sounded so genuine it made my heart flutter. In my entire life I hadn’t ever felt this great. It felt almost like drugs, not like I had ever done any. I could understand an addict's behavior if this is how they felt after dose of their addiction though.

  After that I spent the best weekend of my life. We took photos of manga and posters. Hell, I got asked out by a bunch of guys that didn’t realize I was a guy. I thought my voice would give me away the instant I talked but surprisingly those voice exercises I did for music css made it so I could sound like a girl. That and the fact my voice was already somewhat androgynous from the get go.

  Unfortunately the weekend came to an end and with it my girl days. I tried to go back to normal but as I did the depression came back with vengeance. Each day felt worse than the st. Each moment an agonizing torture. That is when I finally realized what was wrong with me.

  “I want to be a girl.”

  Giving voice to the thoughts made them set in. It felt both great and horrible at the same time. Great because I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders. Horrible because everything that had been bothering me in the past was brought to the forefront. My days became even worse as I drowned in anxiety.

  At some point my depression managed to push past my anxiety as I began doing small things to make myself feel better. Starting with shaving, thankfully I didn’t grow any facial hairs, instead I would shave my legs. After that I began growing my hair as well. By that point my parents became displeased however I managed to somehow push through.

  By the time I became seventeen I started painting my nails as well, that however was a bit too much for my parents. It happened one evening, the day everything went to hell. They sat me down and interrogated me. In the end I cracked and spilled the beans. That day and the week after I cried myself to sleep. The disgust and disappointment alongside the diatribe of insults that followed was seared into my mind.

  After that day I was given the bare minimum they were obligated to give me by w. I knew what would come next and I dreaded it. Without any money I was unable to buy razors for shaving or nail polish. My hair became extra messy since I couldn’t buy the necessary products to care for it. My days became worse and worse until my eighteenth birthday.

  The day after I became eighteen I was shoved out of the house with my school backpack full of the few things that belonged to me. With nowhere to go I decided to try my luck by asking my online friends. Despite their support for me and my wants they all refused to help in the end with half baked excuses. In the end I was left alone to rot.

  With nothing better to do I began walking aimlessly throughout the town. My no thoughts in my mind as I pushed any and all of them away, afraid I would colpse into a sobbing mess. Watching the clouds drift by helped a little, until I saw a bunch of steel rebar being held by a crane up high in a ten story apartment complex that was being built.

  What caught my attention was the snapping of one of the bands holding the rebar. Time seemed to slow as I saw the rebar start slipping from the crane’s hold. My eyes darted downwards towards the pce the rebar would fall. There a pair of teens clearly dating walked leisurely unaware of the horrible accident that would befall them.

  It took but a moment for me to start sprinting with all I got. Sure, I was pcing my life in danger but at this point I didn’t care much for my life. I was homeless, penny less and friendless now that I had been abandoned.

  With speed I didn’t know I had I managed to reach their location before shoving them forwards with all I had. The action managed to send both of them stumbling forwards a good two meters, enough to put them out of danger. Unfortunately the action had arrested my momentum. Just as I was about to sprint again I felt a nce of pain through my back then another and another.

  Screams, one of them my own. I couldn’t see my back but from the pain I felt all over I am sure I was impaled by the rebar all over my back. Luckily or perhaps unluckily none had hit my head to end my suffering swiftly. And so, here we are, me thinking about my shity life as I bleed on the pavement after being impaled by a munch of rebar. The teens that I saved are currently trying to help, one calling nine one one and the other attempting and failing to pull out the rebar that has pinned me to the pavement.

  I do recall seeing something in a video about not pulling out arrows as it would cause the wound to bleed profusely. Would pulling out the rebar make things worse? Not like it mattered, the teen didn’t have the strength to do so. I for my part started feeling both hot and cold. Something something, blood loss, something something. I felt too tired to try and remember what I had seen on youtube so long ago. I was dying and I doubt the paramedics would be able to save my sorry ass.

  No, I didn’t even want to be saved. My life was shit and there was no future for me. I didn’t mind dying right now, no, I very much would like to die right now. Let this be the punch line of my joke of a life. Yeah, that sounds right. A kid born the wrong gender, lived with depression, betrayed by friends and family alike only to die by the whims of god. Talking about god, fuck you, you shitty bearded bastart, I hope some pigeon poops on your head. And with that as my st thought I closed my eyes letting death take me.