Meeting the Future
The next day, the cut already lost feeling from the massive depression suddenly smashing into my brain. Damn you Haruhi, damn you to hell. Really, because I already feel myself tensing up for what is coming up. Also, that cut is going to be a bitch to explain later however that is different. Now, there is more to this with Haruhi than just the club, her stripping, and her talking. You see, she was one of the first to begin the assault that my peers continued against my sanity. Haruhi, the girl that should've known better being so, different herself, assaulted me with everyone else. Everyone claims I'm insane and that I need to get over it. It's strange, but the way she first assaulted me was relatively normal, she just said I was insane. But, she stepped up her assault; convinced I was more sinister because I kept on claiming it for so long. My peers though drove my sanity into the ground. Then, the incident came that separated me away from everyone. It was when I slapped Arakawa, hard. Okay, maybe it was a punch, I don't remember at this point. The reason why is she joined this club called, "Curing Kyonko," and basically started degrading my sanity with them. After that, any chance of socially integrating dissolved away. Not that it was there to begin with, but this was the final sign to all around me that I was just insane.
My parents had sent me to psychiatry, but that was going nowhere. However, she did assign me to write poetry, so I guess that helps. But, in reality all she does is make it worse. I still don't recognize myself as female, rather as a guy trapped in a girl's body. A, appealing looking girl too apparently. I have breasts many girls would kill for but I hate because they are so much of a reminder. I keep my hair short, so sometimes if I wear enough masculine clothing, I can almost pretend I'm a guy again. My breasts and other curves quickly destroy this illusion. Speaking of which, she still thinks I have something called body dysmorphic disorder. But, that is starting to crumble as it becomes more and more obvious that anti-depressants aren't doing shit paired with cognitive therepy that is getting nowhere.
Now, I should probably describe what I normally wear these days. Well, I mainly wear these trench coats that covers my upper body completely and drape over my legs. I even wear them in the heat when I go out because they hide my more, "feminine," figure from all the boys who love staring at it and probably fantasize about it all day. For shoes, just sneakers usually, and otherwise perhaps boots. I will NEVER wear heels; I don't care how formal the occasion is. I would take being locked in a room with a bunch of sex offenders before I wear heels. Perhaps this is all a pointless rebellion against wearing anything feminine but that is who I am. I don't care if people threaten to shoot me or if I was thrown out onto the streets to starve, I will never conform. Why? Well, that masculine feeling is all I have left of my past life; the one I know is real. I know it's real not only because I remember it, but also because one other person remembers it. Kyon does, for he isn't dead and gone, like so many believe he is. They claim he is my dead little brother, like in the former reality Kyonko was my living little sister. So, I hold onto my identity as Kyon, not as Kyonko, even if I pay for it.
I trudged to school after a breakfast of silence, in a land of depression mixed with anger in a rather potent mix if you want to crush someone's sanity. I also climbed a hill steep enough to wear on my body like a beating, and the time given I used to ponder. Ponder ways to skip out on Haruhi, and then maybe commit suicide. Something my psychiatrist has speculated, judging by notes I secretly read, that my hormones are acting in strange ways, causing me much more severe depression faster than normal. That, in combination with my "delusions" and psychological abuse from my peers has caused me to suffer clinical depression. My delusions she is still very unsure of, probably because anti-psychotic medicine does nothing to sway me. She doesn't think I have schizophrenia, although that might change if I become paranoid because it would allow for a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia. No, she thinks the delusions are some weird form of PTSD brought on by the death of my little brother. That theory though even she admits has holes in later notes because while my brother did die a very brutal death, it doesn't explain why I got the mental illness at the time I did, which was in 8th grade. My little brother died in 6th grade from a car accident involving a semi crushing his body. The main hole she can't deny, despite what she tries, are very detailed memories of my previous life.
The problem with my psychiatrist is she won't admit I'm at least somewhat correct despite the massive evidence on my side. How many delusional people do you know that can intimately describe their former lives like their little sister, the clothes they used to wear, the friends they used to have, and the intimate details of your former male self? That last one she labels as dangerous sexual fantasies, which makes no sense to me because I described it in a very clinical way, and she labels the rest of my memories as more delusions. So, to get back at her, I either give her the silent treatment or describe dreams I have that confuse her a lot. The latter now come occasionally, but of course are blown out of proportion as a punishment to that bitch. She won't ever be able to build her theory, which if she proves it could make her very famous because I'm just that weird of a case possibly. I'm her job, so I don't blame her for that, but I still blame her for not believing me like everyone else. I know my claims seem rather ridiculous, but if anyone really listened, they would see I have a point. Why would I make up all of this? I have nothing to gain through it, except maybe some acceptance finally. But no, they have to slap me with psychology like an abuser beats his wife to shut me up. Well, I won't stop, I will keep on denying until I die. I don't care how often they beat me with psychology and I don't care if I disgrace my family, I will not stop denying. Even if I were to burn in hell for it, which I don't believe in, I will still keep on denying.
Anyway, I eventually got to school and right there waiting was the club that wants to "cure" me. Sure, I have shown that I'm very willing to punish with violence, but they still bother me. I have endured a year of this bullshit from them, and the year before that in 9th grade I had to deal with parents and a mental hospital for my suicide attempt. That was where I met the psychiatrist by the way. So no, I won't tolerate their bullshit, not when I already deal with enough at home and from the shrink. Instead, I had fought back with Arakawa when she wouldn't learn her lesson. Now, Arakawa currently leads the club because she spearheads the effort. I know why she does it, I'm her sacrificial lamb to assure popularity, but that doesn't mean I will just sit by while she does it. She knows the consequences if she pushes me too far, and so do her cronies that come from the same crowd as she does. They don't ever get physical; they just psychologically degrade me with the insults and rumors. It's effective too; you can only be apathetic so long when everyone hates you. They don't just ignore me; they openly hate me and every part of my being. I'm worse than Haruhi to them, because my insanity brings them all down while Haruhi's can be easily ignored. I'm that person that keeps trying to convince new kids I'm right while Haruhi just ignores people. If Haruhi is like a raving homeless person, than I'm the person who talks to your kids and convinces them to do drugs.
That is the crap I put up with every day, so there is a reason I'm as insane as I am. I actually do try to convince new kids occasionally to believe me, however I've given up that for the most part. However, the damage is already done to their community my peers figure, so I still need to be punished. Fortunately, after a tense moment where I stared down Arakawa, they let me go through without a fuss. Once I went into my first class, I went into the same state I'm usually in, deep in my mind. In my mind, I try to re-connect with my former self. I don't who I'm right now, but I ain't Kyonko, I know that. But I'm not really Kyon anymore; I'm too violent and social to be him. I'm far too emotional to be him, considering what he used to be like.
Kyon isn't what you would call a normal person really. He was extremely socially introverted, lacked confidence in himself and finally, wasn't very emotional compared to my current state. He had his own problems, he might have ended up as a hikikimori in the future, but he didn't do anything to deserve this. He died inside me when the stress became too much for him and no one believed him. I replaced him because I was stronger perhaps, or rather more stubborn. I didn't adapt though, unless you call becoming a violent chick who wears trench coats with masculine pants and still yells about how she used to be male. But, Kyon is dead, and I'm still trying to resurrect him in my head so I can learn what he thinks now. But he is still dead, and I mourn his death when I cry. Speaking of which, I remember very well the day he died. It was after that medical test that confirmed beyond reasonable doubt that I was completely female.
It was raining so heavily that day. When Kyon was told the results of the test, he ran as hard as he could towards a subway. The whole time while he ran, he cried because no one would believe him. He cried for the loss of his masculinity, he cried for the loss of everything he had known, and he cried because no one would believe him. He thought he had failed to accomplish anything, so went towards the subway seeking an escape from a world that doesn't believe him. When he got there, he stepped up towards the edge of where the subway train would roll through. When one started coming, he prepared to jump into it so he could peacefully die. This was exactly when a girl appeared suddenly, and she was so beautiful. She had massive breasts and otherwise was very moe like in appearance. She seemed unreal to me at first, but then she walked towards me.
When she got close to me she said, "Kyon, you don't have to die. It isn't impossible to adapt, it just takes time, something you don't give it. That isn't really the problem with you anyway, what you need is someone who will understand you are telling the truth, and I do. But you can't pointlessly rebel against it; you need to embrace your new body instead of denying it. Please Kyon, I need you later. Don't kill yourself."
She disappeared right then and there but I now hated her with all of my being in a way that not even Haruhi could top. What right does she have to tell me that I should just adapt? If she knows the truth, she would realize that it is impossible for me to adapt. She would realize that this isn't like going to a new school, which is something you can get over, but rather is a disease that needs to be cured like cancer. It was then that Kyon died, and I was born. My social fears evaporated, as I realized I would need to make people believe me. I felt a new strength possess me, one with a base in anger and shame. I was ashamed of my family for being duped so easily by psychologists, I was ashamed of Haruhi for not recognizing another fellow suffering from denial by peers and most of all, I was ashamed of myself for giving in so easily.
I left the subway and got onto a bridge nearby. There, I screamed with all the force in my lungs while staring up at the sky. I screamed curses at this new world and resolved to fight it. I promised Kyon that I would one day become male again, no matter the cost. Something or someone had victimized me, and that person would pay. I would become strong to fight that battle, both emotionally and physically. The sky thundered as if replying to my new promise to myself. It wasn't my new gender that I hated, it was that everyone denied the change and claiming it was mental illness. It was how society now treated me that I hated, not just the body I inhabited. The parts I hated about my body were the ones that confirmed a new place I was supposed to occupy in society according to other people.
When I went home, I immediately headed to my room, ignoring the chaos my sudden leaving had caused in the house. Upstairs, I got scissors and cut off a lot of hair to keep my hair from being feminine, and then went into the restroom to punch a mirror. I cut myself for the first time, and the pain felt liberating. I found out that physical pain could liberate me from the prison that this body put me in for a brief moment. When my parents came to intervene, I simply threw them off; possessed by strength I never knew I had. Eventually, they held me down, and the adrenaline rush ended, but I still was liberated from the confines of this world. For then on, I had new strength to meet everything with. The world in some ways responded with equal force, but I fought on. Maybe this battle is pointless, but I'll keep on fighting it, to my dying day if necessary.
Or, at least I started with that resolve. It is weakening now, with this continued assault from my peers and the continued ignorance by everyone else. Anger can only take you so far before you run out of fuel, which what was happening here. It was why my wish for death was returning; you can't fight a battle with no possibility of victory. I've met the future, if she something she said is to be trusted, and it sucks. After all, what's the point to trying to change something a god did from the looks of things?
Back to the current, it was now almost the end of the day. Lunch had passed pretty normally too, all things considered. It was in the SOS Brigade room, or as I like to call it Haruhi Assault #3,087, and she introduced a new member. When I saw her, it took all my control to avoid snapping her pretty little neck, much less confronting him in a more verbal way. It was the girl from the subway. Apparently, her name was Mikuru and I knew she was a massive liar about her supposed origin. Originally, I thought she was either a weird figment from my mind, or was from the future. The latter was apparently true, surprising somewhat, but considering everything else that has happened, not completely impossible clearly.
The rest of the time in the club went somewhat normally, considering it was ran by Haruhi. We watched an anime called, "Rahxephon," and it calmed me somewhat. The anime had a main character in a somewhat similar position, although the reality came from actually was fake. I knew the one I came from wasn't, there was too much there. I was taken out of it, so I could be shoved into a reality and body that isn't mine. Who and what did it I don't know, but I hate them for it. I will hate them until the day I die.
After the club, I went home. At home, I wrote more poetry and played with the cut from yesterday. The former I decided to write about Kyon, my old self. He deserved better, being killed by a world that never gave him a chance. Well, I keep telling myself that, but maybe I killed him. I did replace him, whoever I'm supposed to be.
Kyon, where are you?
Did I kill you
When I arrived?
Did you dive
Into the hive
That is death?
Kyon, I'm sorry.
I probably make you worry
Because I'm losing the quarry
I draw strength from.
But don't worry about me.
I'm stronger than them you see.
They would crumble instantly
Under the pressure I endure consistently.
Kyon, don't give up, this struggle
Will end soon. Even if I have to juggle
The world I will get us through this.
So don't die on me, you see
I need you too.
I'm doing this for you Kyon because
I love you, so even if they cover me with gauze
I will continue to fight for you because
I love you and owe you.
I owe you for creating me to begin
With, even if this world again
Decides to rape us
I will defend us to the bitter end
Even if it is one of sin.
So don't die,
And don't fly
Away from me
Because enough though they sigh
At our rebellion, the end is nigh
And paradise is in sight
Where I can finally die
In your arms.