Prologue
Blake POV - [3:49pm]
I refuse to admit this isn't a dream. It isn't, but how can I convince myself if I know if this was going to happen? I was not the one who was meant to be a part of it. I can't understand how I am here! This wasn't meant to exist, so logically this had to be a dream, right?
"LEE PING! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE MAGGOT!" The barbaric roar alarmed me about my situation, making my body duck down lower. I push through the tight line of other students to avoid the robotic red eye scanning the crowd. I had no intention to be seen by him, although he was looking for someone else completely different. Lee Ping, who was the main of this story, got framed for a big prank that ticked the guy off and was on his every nerve. He was not here, however holding it just above the crowd in my arms, was a life-size dummy of him. And while everyone had been passing it on, it got passed to me.
Perfect. It stuck out as a saw thumb, with its bright red head supposing to resemble hair, an etched sewn smile with wide eyes and floppy arms and legs made of straw, I was surprised Barrage hadn't realised. It was funny, but I didn't have the time to laugh.
I had a vague image of how this would play out almost fresh in my memory. I knew that Lee Ping was mean to come back, just like he always would. Any minute, he was going to run through the doors with Tina, waving a flag at Barrage just in time before anyone noticed. He wasn't here still. And until he was, I had to make sure not to get caught. Otherwise, the plan and even the whole scene could be ruined.
I honestly don't know much about my situation, still contemplating aside, today wasn't at all what I had expected it to be. I was supposed to be attending my new school. Not this school though. However, I wasn't able to leave my house before I suddenly got transported by some mystic power into this TV franchise! Now I'm here, although I had planned to find my way home, had gotten between a cyborg-general principal, and a hard place.
To explain things quick and short, I'm not meant to be here! This shouldn't be possible! I'm in a world that is science fiction! I don't understand, how this can be happening. There is just no way this can be real!
"STAY STILL JUMPY!" I get up attempting to pass the doll to someone but was stopped by the voice of the principal, which made me duck down again. I turned and stared at Barrage's cold intimidating gaze, almost seeming to look in my direction. I raised the doll over my face to cover myself and hoped he didn't see me.
"OKAY, THAT'S IT!" The tempered voice rose above, and I started to hear the familiar clang, clang, clang approaching the crowd. I take a peek from behind the dummy, and I tensed in horror as I saw Barrage. Heading towards me! I bobbed down to the floor trying to scoot my way through the rows of students. I could feel the heavy metallic leg stomping, and the vibrations growing closer with each step colliding with the floorboards beneath me. As much as I tried to ram through the narrow space around the crowd, I wasn't able to move fast enough, and I suddenly froze mid-way, not knowing what to do. I'm trapped! I'm gonna get caught!
If this is a dream, I wanna wake up! NOW!
Chapter 1 - The Fall
[1 Day Earlier - 4:02pm]
'The last box…' I stand looming over the duck tape-sealed cardboard box in front of my feet. I hold the box cutter knife with purpose while shaking steadily in my hand's grip. 'You're not gonna be a wuss this time,' I kept repeating this to myself, although I had barely attempted to make a move. I stiffly stood and continued staring at the box intensely, not wanting to lean down or touch it. I inhale a long breath, gripping my knife more tightly.
'Todays the day. I'm not going to stop till I get this done.' I readied myself before taking a step and kneeling to the box. Grabbing one side with my free hand, I brought the knife to the edge of the tape and was ready to tear it off. Droplets of sweat formed and came dripping down my neck and forehead as I struggled to hold the knife steady though I couldn't stop my shaky hand. I slowly cut through the tape in a deep stab, the knife slashing through the middle like butter as it ripped away, and I could feel the tension relieved from my shoulders.
So far so good, I thought. However, as I was halfway through the middle of the tape, my heart began to feel tight and heavy as though it was squeezing down my throat, and I could feel it suddenly turning dry as I struggled to swallow it down painfully. Closing my eyes, I tried forcing myself to ignore it, but my thoughts only reached me a second before I felt a strike of pain in my chest. My heartbeat quickened, and the room started to spin like I were on a roundabout as I seeped into the familiar rush of a panic attack.
It was coming. I needed to stop. I quickly forced myself to shoot up to my feet and back away a few steps from the box. Hitting the wall behind me, I allowed my back to lean against it as I clenched a hand above my chest. As quickly as it came, the sickness subsided and my breathing slowly returned to normal. I felt breathless as I let out painful gasps as though I had resurfaced from holding my breath underwater.
Calm down, Blake. It's no big deal. Just… "…not yet." I sighed aloud and threw my head back to the ceiling. My shoulders sagged, my grip loosening the hand before I dropped the knife on the floor, accepting defeat. A spread of guilt crawled across my chest as I looked at the box I had tried avoiding since I had started to unpack my new room. After weeks of shifting it around and opening other boxes that were now thrown out and discarded on my bedroom floor as empty, this was the only one left that was still unopened. Although I was not sure what was inside nor had opened to see, I knew that it was one of the only ones I believed belonged to mom she had left behind after the divorce.
It had felt like forever since I contacted my mom. Or rather, she never bothered contacting either dad or me after we left our small town for Chicago. I sometimes wonder if she even thought about me, though I knew she wouldn't want to think of the person who turned her marriage into shit.
"Blake!" I was startled out of my pre-panic attack as I heard my dad calling my name through the door open ajar. Down the hall, his voice echoed off the walls through the crack. "Can you come down, please?" I took a moment to recollect myself and shouted a quick "Coming" before walking out of my room. I stopped at my door, taking a final glance at the unopened box sitting on the floor. The warm afternoon sunlight from my bedside window glowed gloriously on it as though mocking me triumphantly. With that final thought, I exited the room, slamming the door behind me as I walked through the narrow hallway.
Though wearing thick socks, walking on the cold timber floorboards made my feet tickle beneath while I passed other cardboard boxes lying across the sides of the hallway that stretched out leading to the stairs. Most were left open, still filled to the brim with packing peanuts and covered lightly over photo frames and hanging ornaments. At first glance, you would think we had just moved in yesterday when it had almost been half a year since we moved.
It all started with me, I guess. Then the day came when my mom signed her name on the papers and packed a few boxes before leaving our old family home for good. A week after, dad told me we were going to another city to start fresh. Though the news was sudden, and my mind was subdued and tired, I still remember the drive on the highway in the middle of the night on 8 hours to Chicago. Eight hours later, we finally arrived at the crack of dawn. Dad parked in front of our new house in a quiet neighbourhood outside the city. Since then, it had been nearly half a year, or four months, to be exact. I started taking online classes to stay in school and keep myself busy from home.
Every day without school would be the simple steps that follow. Wake up at 4 AM, shower at 6 AM, and go to bed again till 9. Eat whatever is in the pantry, and finally, log onto my classes. I'd usually submit my assignments and homework before ending at noon. After that, I just spent the day doing whatever I wanted, which was time either in the garage to practice on my boxing bag, cook before dinner, or read a book. That has been my life up til now. However, all of that peaceful lifestyle was about to change tomorrow.
I stepped down the last set of stairs to the entryway that stretched with a carpet leading to the front door and kitchen. "I'm in here," I heard dad's voice calling me from a few rooms down to his office. "Wad-" Having taken one more step in, my greeting was cut short as I looked inside. "…-dup?"
I was bewildered by the state of it. High-rises of boxes towered across the study like mini skyscrapers, though most looked like they were barely balancing steady while stacked on each other. Half bare shelves reached the ceiling close to the fan in the very centre. Behind the desk, three identical windows poured in warm sunlight shining in through with radiance. What made me stop short was the scattered pieces of paper sheets across the desk and falling into a pile on the floor. Some covered the desk work chair, computer monitor and an empty coffee mug. The place looked like an explosion site, and dad was not in view.
"Dad?" I called out into the empty room, expecting he'd give me a response. His head popped suddenly out from beneath the desk, and the surprise made me let out a high-pitched yelp making me take a few steps back to recover from the shock. I almost laughed it off as I noticed his thick brown hair was rugged and sticking out from all sides as he had just woken up. However, the tiredness in his baggy green eyes and his expression looking tired but awake with stress made me instantly understand that he was in a hurry. Dad fumbled off the floor, giving me a flustered look that tried playing it off before asking me with a wiry smile, "You mind giving me a hand with these?" Instead of a greeting.
"Sure," I replied, already bent down and picking up the papers I gathered from the floor. I shuffled them into a neat stack and placed them on the desk while dad grabbed his satchel bag from under the desk and placed them inside efficiently like he didn't have a moment to waste. I heard a buzzing on the desk, though dad hadn't noticed, and I took a peek at his phone lying on the desk. John. Work. I let out a tight sigh, trying to keep myself from not groaning aloud to let arrogance show on my face. "You going out for work tonight?"
Dad replied, though unlike me, he did not try to hide his disdain. "Yeah, I got a call from John to come into work," he explained, his eyes still glued to his bag and trying to squeeze a thick folder inside. "He's asking me to help him meet with a partnering client till late, so I might not be back for dinner again. Can you pass me that file behind you? The blue one." Still not looking at me, he raised his hand and pointed a finger in my direction.
Behind me was nothing but the unpacked boxes that dad had failed to open since we moved. "How long will you be out?" I asked him as I spotted the blue folder that was stuck between two moving boxes. I pulled it from the wedge before handing it to dad, who then stuffed it in his bag as he let out a deep exhale through his nostrils and sternly replied, "John reckons that the meeting will drag till midnight. I reckon after 3, but I wouldn't bet on either since schedules have been tight lately. He reckons it's because…" I nodded at him talking, though I was not paying attention to the rest of his talk as he continued. Cause either way, I knew he would again be staying overtime at the sales department where he works.
Though he had only started working in high spirits a month after we arrived in April, in the last few weeks, I've seen him look more tired whenever he was called into work by John or his boss. John was his partner I recently met around a month ago when he came to talk with dad over one weekend. He was a young guy a few years older than me, around his early twenties, but I didn't get a good impression of him when I first met him. To put it simply, the guy was selfish. Making my dad do all the heavy lifting and ordering him around as John liked. And which I hated. Dad never said he hated his job, and he said it's no big deal, which to my disbelief, made my blood boil with rage. I barely ever get to see him anymore, except for when he comes home for either one day over the weekend or late at night around the early morning past 1 AM.
My attention slowly grew back to his voice as I crouched down to the floor to reach for a pile of papers I missed. As I was leaning back up, his voice murmured, but I heard his last few words very clearly. "... and I don't think I can take you to school tomorrow morning either."
"What?" My eyes widen, and my body shot up before I accidentally hit my head on the side of the desk. I nearly dropped the stack of papers in my hand but managed to hold onto them. I rubbed the back of my head on the bump I received as I whirled at him. He stopped packing in his bag but didn't turn his to me as though knowing the look I was giving him. "You told me, 'we would go together," I told him sternly, reminding him of the promise we made. Dad told me that I was free to stay home and take online teaching for half the year if I agreed to attend public school later in the fall for the rest. I agreed to dad, so long as he would be there on the first day I enrolled and promised to drop me off at the gates to wish me luck. It was a childish request, I admit, but it was the only other time when I'd get the chance to be with him even for a few minutes in the car.
"That was before the call," Dad groaned in reply, his voice sounding tired but tried not to show any annoyance, though he failed to hide it on his face. "John is persistent about this contract, and I won't hear the end of it if I miss the meeting I have tomorrow morning. The best chance for me to make it then is to sleep over again-" He turned to me now, seeing my upset expression, rolling his eyes to the side like he expected this from the start. He then heaved a deep sigh. "Don't give me that look. It's not your first time taking a bus alone, and it won't be so bad as you'll head straight there. There's no reason why you should feel so scared about it."
I wanted to argue but let out a huff, knowing that convincing him was pointless. Plus, he had a point. Not about the scared part. I was about to turn 16, so I understood that I should've already known how to take care of myself, and as much as I wanted to complain, I had already proven that fact truth enough in the last few weeks. Since dad always worked and rarely spent time at home to take care of me, most days, he would come back late in the night or sometimes at noon the morning after. I had to learn how to cook, clean the house, and prioritise myself with studying. Though dad was very uneasy about me being alone, I always told him I'd be fine without him. However, looking back on it, I should've figured he'd bring this up like he is now.
It wasn't because I was scared of school, but mostly it had to do with the fact that I had dropped out of school because I was bullied. Mainly due to my coming out as non-binary, and my whole tenth-grade year didn't fulfil me with many pleasant memories. Students always snickered behind my back while calling me names to my face. Teachers would give me glares that shot bullets whenever I asked them to be addressed by my preferred name, and all around the school, there was the joke of everyone starting rumours about me being all kinds of things. I started getting into fights and later dropped out halfway through the year before mom filed the divorce. However, as my dad explained, I still had an extra year of school to finish, which meant I had to repeat the 10th grade! Again.
"There is something in the kitchen for you. To make up for it." Dad looked up at me and motioned his chin towards the door as he told me this. I didn't want to end this conversation, but not having the energy to continue, I left the study.
The kitchen was the next room over and doubled as the dining room. The space was small but big enough for the reused garden glass table in the middle with two fold-in lawn chairs on either side. Most of the cupboards lined the corner of the room, and next to the fridge was a massive glass sliding door leading to the backyard. When I walked in, there was a parcel on my fold-in chair gift wrapped in newspaper and tied with a black ribbon. I picked it up as I examined the handy work of my dad's, all crumbled up and formed into a disfigured square. The gift felt squishy but firm, so I figured it was clothing inside, however, couldn't make a clear picture of what it could be. I was about to call dad behind me when I suddenly felt a hand grasp my shoulder, which gave me another startle as I shot my head at him. "Oh—God, would you not do that?" I spat out as I placed a hand on my chest to calm my breathing.
I looked him up and down, seeing that he had his bag ready and his hair was all brushed and pulled back from a brush. However, although he was in a rush before, he now seemed very patient and relaxed, as though he was longer planning to leave. He stood waiting as I held the gift in my hands, and I saw it. I noticed the mischievous twinkle in his eyes but kept a plain expression like he wanted me to know he was hiding something. It reminded me of how he often did that growing up, and I think back to feeling like a kid again. "You gonna open it or what?" Dad patted my back softly as he encouragingly. He didn't try hiding the animated grin on his face, and now I was a little nervous if I should.
With one hand holding it, I tore open the paper with the other as it let out a loud rip. My eyes widened as my mouth gaped in shock, recognising the shape of the black fabric material, although I never thought I'd ever see one up close. Trembling hands shook in disbelief, my eyes glued to it. Even as I could sense dad's grin, I stared astonished at the chest binder, and almost felt uneasy like I was on a cloud.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" I cried and shouted, gasping in between breaths as my voice almost cracked in pitch. "No way! You serious?!" Shuffling around on the spot, I fidgeted like a kid in a candy store before I quickly leapt into dad and wrapped my arms around him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday," He replied, sounding humble as he embraced me warmly. "You'll be starting school as 'Blake', I thought it'd help and since you have been asking for months." I felt him holding me tighter as he said that last bit. My chest fluttered as he emphasised my name with pride in his voice. He sounded more natural to say my name, unlike the first few times when he started. I melt back into the memory of last year.
Dad and I had arrived home from school, and it would be several hours till mom got home from work. At the time, I began coming to terms with my identity as non-binary, and throughout the past week, I had been confident in wearing a new style of wardrobe, typically meant for guys, although it gave me strange looks around my school. I wanted to share my feelings with my dad, but I knew mom would disapprove of it if she overheard us. This was the 1 day she had to stay after work for a late meeting, and I encouraged myself that there would be no other perfect time to tell him if I missed it. That afternoon, I asked him to sit in the living room with me, and we sat at the opposite ends of the couch facing the TV. A dead silence slowly fell between us and filled the room with still tension. I was terrified but tried not to let it stop me. With sweat coming out of every pore in my body and clenching my hands tightly while resting on my knees.
In a trembling voice, I told him about my name, why I started wearing different clothes, what I felt about myself during the last few years of discovering myself and how I identified. I told him I didn't want to let others tell me who I am or how I should act and to be free to choose to be an equal without my sexual gender as a girl defining me by it. All the while, dad never once interrupted me as he did. Dad's expression was stoned and unreadable, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. However, he nodded solemnly every so often to show he listened intensely. It took me an hour before I finally finished, and we sat in silence with my heart beating like a pump inside my throat. Slowly leaning over, dad placed a hand on mine, caressing it gently, and told me that no matter what, he was proud that I was happy, and I should be proud of being brave to have told him. A dam of tears streamed down my face, and I was relieved as we pulled each other into a warm and tight embrace. After, I asked him not to let mom know until I was ready, and he agreed, though it didn't take her too long to find out.
Although he never wanted to talk about it with me, I know that she was no longer with us because of me. The events of the aftermath wounded me, but they especially hurt my dad the most. He often tells me that my new perspective on myself led to great opportunities to start over when we moved. He said he loves me as I am, and I am grateful for that, but now and then I see less of the courageous father that I used to know.
Inhaling through my nose and exhaling, I collect my breaths from the flourish of excitement. The genuine filled smile I had now drooped into a conflicted frown. I pull away from dad's arms and contract mine as I look down at the binder in my hands. Though I knew this was supposed to be an apology, I felt he was trying to take advantage of it to make me forget about how he broke our promises. I looked into his eyes as my voice spoke in a dead-flat tone, "This doesn't change about tomorrow, you know."
Dad's expression faltered from my sudden change of tone as he forced a cough clearing his throat and brushing away his disappointment. As though not knowing how to respond quickly, he turned towards the kitchen and walked briskly to the fridge. Opening it, I peered over his back and saw the inside, where the was barely any food. Aside from leftover takeout boxes, three bananas were below them on the second shelf next to an old tomato and a can of tuna on the bottom.
He turned back to me as he grabbed two of the three bananas out of the fridge. "What's so bad about tomorrow?" he asked me before taking apart one banana and tossing it to me. I caught it in my hands before it slipped from my grab while adding jokingly, "Are you worried about the last four months of school work you haft to catch up on?"
"No," I sighed, peeling the fruit from the stem and taking a bite while speaking through mouthfuls and chews. "I haven't been to school in over a year. Weirdly, I haven't met any kids in this city since we moved, and-" I hesitate for a beat, thinking of a better way to explain myself before continuing while being cautious. "I don't know, it feels as though I will just screw things up when people meet someone like me." I'm not normal. I swallowed my banana down my throat, followed by the thought on my mind leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I almost wanted to throw it up as I held the urge to add to the conversation.
"Don't say that," My dad said, placing the other banana inside his bag before turning to the fridge to grab the tuna tin. "Besides, it's natural for that to happen. First Day Jitters can happen in the 11- 10th grade. The bus taking you to school won't arrive till 7 in the morning, so I'm sure you'll get a good hour to get dressed, eat, and figure out what to say when you meet people and make new friends. Hey, why not try this-" Dad cleared his throat, sounding rusty, as he placed a hand on his chin and straightened his stance stiffly as he faced me. His voice raises to a weak pitch as he impersonates me and says, "-'Hi I'm Blake. I moved to Chicago with my dad at the start of the year, but I had online learning until now. I also go by they-slash-them pronouns, and I hope we can be friends.' See, easy right?"
I scoffed at his joking impression of me, a smirk popping from the corner of my lips, but died back down as I didn't know how to argue back. He continued, his voice turning stern. "We agreed you could take some time off school while we settled in. It's been enough time since we've been over this, and it should be the right moment to move on from your mom." I felt a cord stuck from the mention of mom. I'm reminded of our situation. How I am here and not in our old home, talking about this now and being a pest not wanting to go to school like I am still a kid.
"I know, I just…" I began, but paused, holding back the urge in my voice to sob or quiver. Dad stared back, his eyes wide with concern in my silence as he waited for me. I exhaled lightly and breathed. "I just don't want to be tricked by others and have this part of me that I am proud of being shattered because it's... abnormal." The one sentence was all I could muster though I knew there was more I should've told him. Am I proud though? Did a part of me not think so? I could feel my chest aching with remorse, telling me that there was so much more I needed to share. Yet I held back. Again.
Dad was silent as we stood in the room that swallowed us in silence. His eyes searched into mine as though trying to find the reason behind my words, but I looked away, afraid somehow he'd know. Although I secretly maybe hoped he would beg me for answers and want me to tell him what more I was keeping deep down. Mixed feelings and thoughts swirled in my stomach while I stared at the floor, and my body was numb and froze with uncertainty.
He walked up towards me. Both his hands held my shoulders and beckoned me to sit in the chair behind my legs. He kneeled on one knee as I sat, and his face levelled to mine. His deep chestnut eyes stared into mine, and I felt tiny and mute as though my body told my brain to listen to him as I'm reminded of when I was an infant. This was how we were whenever I was upset, though it made me feel nervous, there was the authority of his gaze that made me know that he was going to say something and wanted me to listen very carefully. Sliding his hands away from my shoulders, he reached down, placing them both over my knees and clasping them tightly.
He opened his mouth about to speak but closed it hesitantly, looking down at our hands as though lost. I could tell he was struggling for words to say, a change I had gotten used to since we moved aside from the outgoing man he was. I looked at him patiently for him as though time stopped, and had every moment between us to figure out what to say. Closing his eyes, he slowly inhaled and exhaled a smooth breath, ready. "Blake, you cannot spend the next year of high school locked in your room. It isn't healthy." I shrugged, attempting to smirk as if it were a joke. Effortlessly trying though, it remained a drooped frown, knowing that he was right. "I know what happened last year had been… a lot, and I know people can be very selfish or not understand. However, that doesn't mean you should close yourself off to others just because of what happened. You were lucky you had me and grandma to guide you back, but there is so much I could do to help you get through it now. I can't stand beside you forever. Now that you're starting school again, you need to find friends who can see you. Not just as Blake, but also Ha—"
Bzzzzzzzzzz…Bzzzzzzzzzz…Bzzzzzzzzzz… Before dad could continue, a buzzing sound abruptly chimed from his back pocket, cutting him off. Dad's chin clenched frustratedly, closing his eyes and groaning loudly through his bared teeth. I could have sworn I saw a puff of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he reached for his phone. His eyes scanned the screen as though reading a text, and the lines of his angry face turned tired and dismayed and gave me an indication of who was contacting him.
"John." I sighed aloud as dad groaned his name and our voices into stereo. We looked at each other surprisingly in unison before we smiled and burst out laughing. It felt like the universe had taken a break from reminding us of our problems. Sometimes I wished to have the power to make everything right in our world again. Before dad wasn't busy and tired at work while mom was with us, and when I hadn't known the meaning to 'change' myself.
My eyes caught dad's eyes, looking at me concerned as though he had already read my thoughts. "Listen, you'll be fine." He tells me assuringly. "All you gotta do is make friends. Ones you can learn to trust and have faith in. Promise me that you will try to, okay?" I considered this, though part of me wanted to snap back at him about how he had broken his promise to me. However, I couldn't bring myself to say it, so I held my tongue. An idea suddenly came to me, and I held the binder in my hand in front of him. "If I try, can I wear the binder tomorrow?" I asked timidly.
A smirk perked at the corner of his lips as he ruffled through my hair, making it fuzzy. "So long as you have a backup bra in your bag and try making some friends, then I have no problem with it." He answered before pushing himself up from the floor, pulling me out of my chair into a tight hug. I squeeze him back just as strong whilst wishing we could stay like this forever. As I let this moment sink in, I mumbled on his shoulder, "I promise."
When we finally pulled away, we walked to the front door, as dad was now late for work. I leaned against the frame on the porch as he walked into the driveway at our navy BMW. Entering the driver seat door and fastening himself in his belt, he rolled down the window and waved to me. In my heart, I wanted to call out at him that he should skip work. 'Forget about John, spend tonight with me at home doing whatever, talking, laughing, eating dinner and take me to school tomorrow as we promised.' However, instead, I just forced a smile and returned his wave with a weak effort.
Dad backed out of the driveway as he shouted to me. "Remember, leave for the bus at 7! You got that" I didn't get a chance to reply to his answer as he started reversing from the driveway and onto the road. He took off down the street, and I watched his car go farther in the distance. Its taillights reflected off the sun before they vanished from vision as it drove towards the city. The smile I held slowly disappeared, and I looked around at our neighbouring houses before turning to the sky. The sun slowly crept down to the horizon, its orange hue shining on my face as I felt its warmth and the crisp evening wind tickle my face. On most evenings, I would enjoy the sunsets and often imagined them to be the calming end to the raging war coming to an end as the night settled down.
As the evening grew darker, I went back inside but was reminded of the gift still wrapped in my hand. I looked down at it excitedly, the ecstatic impulse of it being in my possession returning. I sprinted up the stairs, holding onto the railing as I turned the corner into the hallway and passed clumps of boxes before entering my room. I closed the door behind me, then made sure to close my window and pull down my curtain blinds. I tore off the rest of the wrapping before taking the binder out to look at it all in view. The design was a crop that would cover most of my chest but not my stomach. My hands shook, and I quivered with excitement like I was holding an expensive piece of jewellery. I took off the black tank top I wore and started changing into the binder over my head. I wriggled my arms through the sleeve before struggling to fit my head through the head. Though the binder was easy to squeeze through, my skin felt like I was going through a thick rubber tube.
When I finally got it on, I adjusted the front from the tightened collar. From my eyes looking down, it felt alright, but not uncomfortable that I couldn't move my arms around. I wasn't sure if it looked okay and wondered if my chest was not as concealed as I had hoped. I decided to open the closet, where I hung a long mirror attached behind the door. I walked over, but as my hands grasped the knob to open it, I felt the pit of uneasiness crowding my stomach again. Slowly, I started to wonder if I would hate it but shook my head, trying to brush away the thought. I lost to the box, but I'm not going to the closet.
I inhaled, readjusted my grip on the doorknob before, and in one second, I turned the handle and swung open the door. A gust of wind pushed through me as I looked at the mirror, but I gasped when I saw my reflection, almost wanting to cry instantly. The uneasiness in my stomach melted away with a heavenly feeling of contempt as I felt tears well in my eyes. The binder was perfect. All the uncomfortable urges I had felt before vanished as I admired myself in the mirror and was breathless at how flat my chest looked. It was as if I had transformed. I looked around my room for something I could wear over it and spotted one of my worn t-shirts at the edge of my bed. I grabbed it from the post and put it on, slipping it over my binder and looked at myself in the mirror again. Another gasp escaped my lips. I covered both hands over my mouth as I hovered on the spot, not taking my eyes away. I started posing in the mirror like I were a supermodel. Watching and I changed every few seconds before I froze in a position that angled to the side of the mirror and gloried my flat chest and how no bumps were seen. I heard myself subconsciously mumble aloud, "Awesome, right, grandma?"
I turned my head to the nightstand, my eyes landing on a dark wooden photo frame as my expression wavered from its smile. I left the mirror, walked over to hold it in my hands and stared at the photo inside wishfully. Memories flooded my thoughts, knowing her as not the typical grandma I knew. I admired her at a young age when she had a love and passion for travelling to places new, exotic, unique, and differently cultured. Grandma had dreams and desires to see the world and open her mind to new things that still seemed strange to me now. Like on one of her last trips to China, she showed me photos of her eating live scorpions on a stick! It was disgusting and spontaneous, but I didn't expect anything less or her. She was as fearless and kind. I wanted to be when I was older. She was also the only other person who supported me after I came out.
One of the most amazing things she did was the day after I fought with my mom. She heard the rumours going around my school and was furious with how I had embarrassed her by dressing like a boy. We screamed at each other for hours until dad broke us apart, and I went to my room, crying myself to sleep. The next day, grandma took me out early in the morning after mom and dad had disappeared. She told me they went into town to talk during lunch. We took a long drive to the fairground downtown and spent the entire day laughing, going on rides, and filling up on fairy floss and hotdogs. Although it distracted me from the previous night, I secretly worried that mom would abandon me, unaware that it would only be a week from now when my dad would tell me they were getting divorced.
When evening came, we went onto the Ferris wheel. As we lifted off the ground in our gondola, we sat beside each other as we looked out at the sunset as the light glistened against the ocean's face. The sky turned dark violet and blue, and the lights on the Ferris wheels turned on and illuminated the sky, making the ride feel like a dream. Reaching the top, I felt grandma's hand drift to mine before entangling her fingers through and squeezing tightly, and my attention was on her. I was surprised as she softly muttered to me sleepily. "Life won't get better. If your mom can't see how happy you've become, it's her mistake, not yours. You can't change the past nor predict the future, and remember that whatever comes, you need to be ready to face it. If may not be now, but soon."
I knew what she was talking about and didn't know how to respond as they were not the exact words I wanted to hear. Yet, I understood what she intended to teach me from them. For the rest of the ride, we stayed silent, with her silently leaning into my shoulder like a pillow while watching the sky set down and turned from lilac to midnight blue. The ride ended, and as we got off, a photographer approached and asked if we wanted a picture taken. We agreed, wanted it right where we were, as the Ferris wheel behind was lit with fairy lights while we both smiled at the camera with subtle faces, and the cold evening air reddened our cheeks. This photo was the last taken together.
My eyes moved away from the photo, staring down at my left wrist. The two identical leather-braided bracelets tied around me. One with a small charm of a crown and the other with a silver cross. The first was mine. The second was hers, the last thing she gave me when I saw her in a hospital bed a week before she died. I let out a hefty sigh, my eyes glassy as I couldn't help but recall the memories of that day, wanting someone to comfort me as she did. Wiping the little tears from my eyes as I stared back at the photo. "What am I gonna do now?" I whispered to myself with a small sigh. 'When will I be ready?' I think quietly in thought, almost as though I was praying for an answer.
I suddenly heard my open laptop ping with a familiar Discord ping on the computer from my desk. I read the notification that appeared on the screen; Calling... NighWalker02483.
I smiled in relief. 'Perfect timing.' I placed the frame on the nightstand and walked to my desk. Sitting on my chair and pulling towards my PC, I logged in and opened my Discord. I saw the profile of a red cat and the name, NightWalker024883, waiting in a chat box. I opened the chat, and my profile of a green and black 'x' appeared on the screen. It appeared beneath his along with my username, GamerBlake2022. I grabbed my headset, plugging it into the side of my laptop before speaking into the connected microphone. "Kole? Can you hear me?"
"Hey, Blake," the deep voice I had almost forgotten replied through the speaker. "Hearing you loud and clear. It's been a while, did you finally finish with the move?"
"I'll tell ya in a sec, I need to put you on camera," I told him eagerly, wanting to show him my binder as I readied my camera probe on top of my monitor. "You gotta see what I finally have." I clicked the camera button next to the mute, and two boxes appeared. My face appeared on the screen, and I waited until his camera turned on.
Kole's face appeared on the screen. He had the same light dark skin and short raven black hair as I remembered he had hidden underneath a Stranger Things cap. His brown eyes shone through the specks of his dark blue framed glasses, and he also wore a plain white and black striped T-shirt underneath a light denim jacket with patches on the sleeves. The background behind him was his man cave, which similarly resembled the state of my room but looked way messier than mine, but I could see even more clothes scattered around that I could practically smell what odour they emitted. Scratching the back of his cap, Kole chuckled nervously through the computer. "So, what is the big thing you needed to show me?" he asked.
"This," I got up from my chair, backing away near my bed as I made sure my whole body was seen in the video chat box. I started to angle my body to the side as I did before while smoothing out my broad flat surface. I looked at my screen to see Kole's expression widen in surprise. I then confidently asked him, "What do you think? I can barely see that lump, right?"
"None that I can see." he commented lightly, looking me up and down with approval before he added, "You also changed your hair too. Green suits you." I felt flustered as I moved my hand to my head, touching a lock that was by a green dye. I was almost embarrassed that I had forgotten to mention my hair since our last vid chat had been for months after we moved. Kole then asked me, "How is everything been?"
"Exhausting," I walked back in my seat, pushing into my desk and slouching while leaning an elbow against the table and letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I have a few boxes to still unpack, and dad just left for another night at work. It's been like this all month, and we still haven't taken out the boxes upstairs."
"It sounds like you guys have been busy," Kole gave a sympathetic look teasing look. "It's only been a few months, and things will get better, eventually. Things like this will take time."
Hearing the mention of the word 'time' made me sigh again as I leaned both elbows on the desk and sank my palms in my cheeks. "Time is the one thing on my mind," I grumbled poutingly. "tomorrow will be my first day of school."
"How are you feeling about it?" He asked, seeing as he looked at me with a hint of concern in his voice.
I confessed to him, "Dad is breaking his promise to drop me off, hence the binder compensating as a sorry present." I pointed to my chest, indicating the binder. "I'm anxious about starting this whole school thing again after all this time. Having to meet people who could be like all the other pricks I had put up with most of my life." In the back of my mind, I am flashed by painful memories as a spark of misery in my chest kindled painfully.
"I'm sure everything will go well," Kole assured me, even though his expression seemed uncertain. I heard a faint thud from his room that was almost inaudible. Kole glanced offscreen to see what it was but turned back to the camera with a newfound smile. "Anyway, tell me about what's been happening. This little guy says he missed you a lot." As he says this, bending downwards to the floor, he returns with a white Pomeranian, Archie, his dag, appearing on the screen. The ball of fur yipped loudly at the camera and panted with his pink tongue sticking out as Kole laid him down on his lap. I smiled warmly, though passively thinking how he was trying to drop the topic of school, as I returned a wave at the small dog.
Breaking the ice, we began talking and catching up on the last few months since we heard from each other. We laughed as Archie tried to get attention on the camera by barking and chatting as though we were old friends who hadn't spoken in years, though it had only been a few years since I could recall how we first met. I was considered one of the most well-popular kids in school back then. I had a lot of friends and was living an okay life with how I got to be on the track team. Everything was, as one would think, "perfect". However, though it had only lingered in the back of my mind, whenever I am profiled or talked down on by my mom about how I should act more "lady-like", I felt an emptiness inside of me. It's hard to put into words even now. The closest description I have to it would be feeling like I had a massive hole punched through my body and out the back or pinned to a tight corner without room to breathe and nearly suffocating. The empty feeling would occur at the worst times as I continued hanging out with them, and it only got harder to bear as I started wanting to avoid them altogether.
I wanted to vent out, but I didn't know who I could talk to or how someone would understand my feelings. Knowing the kind of people my friends were, I didn't know if they would until I had the idea of opening an anonymous account on Instagram. I would post random pictures of anything, from a sunset to a rotten apple on the ground, and filter them to black and white. I would then write captions or paragraphs like notes about how I would feel in the moment or when I felt the emptiness. It was only half the year after making those posts with only a few likes and comments that I started noticing a few from an account, NightWalker024883.
If they don't see you, show yourself, That Was one of the first comments he made to me. No one should hide what they feel if it makes them feel forgotten, and even later on, If you are curious, why not try discovering what's missing? Each comment had brackets of colourful emojis that made them impossible to be unseen. They made me feel like I was finally being heard and not judged for having these thoughts. I thought this person understood what position I was drowning in. He "gets me". I soon gathered the courage to access his chat and message him, Hey, can we talk?
I sent it, though honestly, I was almost adamant that he would leave me without an answer, surprised a minute later when my phone buzzed with his reply. Gladly :)
Months after we talked regularly, I found out his name was Kole. From then on, he became a trusted friend. I told him more about my life little by little, and he always listened sincerely and gave me feedback on my problems. He was very considerate, never asking me to explain more than I needed or telling him my real name when I told him Blake wasn't. There were many things I learned about Kole as the year flew by. He was never afraid to be open with others or speak about whatever was on his mind.
Like me, he also had to struggle with feeling alone because of how he was treated differently for who he was. He told me he came out gay a year ago after confessing to his best friend. Afterwards, people avoided Kole, and other guys in his school were mean to him and started rumours about him. It was similar to what I went through, but his family were the only ones who stuck with him through thick and thin. Despite how his family was prideful of their religious culture, they accepted Kole as he was, and even the friend he confessed to soon started dating him.
I admired Kole's courage and secretly was envious that his family still stuck together and supported him for who he is. He always shared with me his struggles and how he's understanding of others who felt like they were outcasts. It was only then, that I started opening up to him more about my relationship with my mom.
Our friendship grew by the end of 9th Grade. Questioning my identity as a gender, I finally felt whole as I discovered myself more and knew who I wanted to be, and Kole was the first person I came out to that I was non-binary. He told me he was proud of me, how he was seeing a happier person, and encouraged me not to hold myself back from expressing that part of me that I was holding back. Although Kole and I had never met IRL, from living 3900 miles away in England, he had been the only person in my life, besides dad, who still stayed with me through the bad times till now. It only occurred to me now that I had not contacted him on any of my social media apps after the first month of moving. Although he messaged me from time to time, I somehow never had the energy or motivation to reach out. Though it wasn't an excuse, I was trying to forget about everything that happened and passed. I felt guilty for that. "I'm an idiot."
"Why?" I gasped hearing Kole's voice, returning me to the present and realising I'd spoken out loud while he was talking about a date with Sam, the friend-turn-boyfriend. I stared at the screen, surprised at my reflection that showed my absent mind expression that Kole finally took notice. He looked at me with a knowing smile, not angry that I wasn't paying attention. "What's on your mind, Blake?" he asked.
I wanted to deny that there was, but being late to redirect what I said, I sighed, admittedly telling him, "I feel bad about leaving you on reading every time you tried messaging me. I always meant to call or text back, but I was... or I just..." I tried thinking of a reason quickly, but I held my voice in the sentence before it slowly ended in awkward mute.
"Blake, I know it hasn't been easy with the move with your dad and all. Lots of stuff has been thrown at you, so I understand you wanted some space. I get it, so you don't haft to feel bad because you went A-F-K for a while." Kole assured me with a wide toothy smile, but his eyes stoned intensively, and I could tell he had thought the same. I often wondered if Kole blamed himself for what happened to me. Another thing I've grown to know about him is that he always puts others' feelings before his own.
I never blamed him indefinitely for everything that happened. It was my choice, and all he did was give me an opening to breathe through. That was all. I either made him feel more guilty or worried him somehow. As the moment between us grew too quiet, Kole started us up again as he looked tensed to change the subject. "Anyway, did ya find anything interesting while you were unpacking?"
"I did," I told him, going along with it as I remembered a box under my desk I had meant to show him. "Before leaving, I went to explore our old attic. I bought a few boxes filled with some of my old stuff."
"Let me guess, they're all your old diaries about embarrassing middle-school crushes?" I heard Kole teasingly ask through my headphones as I bent under my table to grab something inside the box. Sitting back up, I could see him raising an eyebrow at me, the side of his mouth twitching in a charismatic smirk.
I chuckled at his sly remark, "Close, but no." I pulled up a black art book, placed it on my lap, and opened it with both my hands facing the camera on the screen. "They are sketchbooks of all my favourite characters and TV shows from 7th grade." The pages shown to him on my Discord chat were of the shows Kim Possible and Danny Phantom, both drawn in dodgy figures of the characters and coloured in marker and colour pencils graphite while the pages faded in age.
"Woah, those are some cringy drawings," Kole's eyes widened with amusement as he leaned toward his camera. His eyes squinted to his screen while trying to see the drawings betters. I slowly flipped through page after page, giving him a few seconds to look so to speed by it. I didn't want to discuss it too long, though Kole knew very much that I'd improved on my art in years than what I was showing him. However, I figured that he would be amused as I hoped since most of our topics of conversation would include what TV shows and movies we could remember in the old days compared to the new re-animations and re-enactments.
Only after skimming past a few pages toward the end, I was interrupted by Kole sounding suddenly urgent. "Wait, hold on. Flip a few pages back…" I was a little perplexed but picked up the pages I had just turned over before letting him see. Kole's face scrunched his brows as his eyes searched the drawing through the screen. Before I could ask what he was looking for, his face relaxed, and it looked like a lightbulb had turned on above his head. "Is that... Detentionaire?"
"You know it?" I asked, shocked as I looked down at the pages Kole looked on. Drawn on both pages were textures and strokes of bright green surrounding the main character with red and black dyed hair, Lee Ping, riding on his skateboard and the red (tazlewurm) creature next to him. The title of the series, Detentionaire, is written in bold black marker with a red dot covering the centre of the 'o' on the binding between the book. The date is on the corner of the book beside my hand: July 2013. "Yeah, I loved that show." He replied with a wide smirk. "For real?" I gasped, my jawed feeling like it was hanging out of my mouth. "No one in my school had ever even heard of it when I brought it up. Like at all!"
"Dude— yes, I know," Kole looking to the sky in awe, stretched his arms to the air with his head held back before placing them behind his cap. He then called out, his voice vaguely heard away from his mic. "The show had everything. Like the mystery, the conspiracy, the drama, the epic plot and twists. It was cinematic gold in those days." Hearing him talk about 'those days' made me chuckle as if we were talking like old seniors like our grandparents. "Any characters you liked in the show?"
"Uuuuhg, I barely remember all their names," I loudly groaned, trying to recall as I impatiently swayed in my chair. "Hmmm…I liked… top hat guy from the band, the main character, Lee Ping, and the quirky love interest who worked as the news reporter. Oh-and the robot principal!"
"Okay, so…" Kole held on to say something but paused as his eyes looked upwards and searched his brain. "Cyrus... Lee, Tina, and Barrage? Interesting selection, I must say." he then commented lightly. Kole to a moment to think about his character list. "Hmmm… I think my favourites would be Biffy, Cam, the tazlewurm, Jenny, Lee, and the Serpent." My eyes widen at the last name mentioned. "The Serpent? HIM?" I loudly questioned the name accusingly, shocked that he was listed as a favourite. "The guy's a total lunatic!"
Kole raised his eyebrow confusingly by my sudden allegation. "What's wrong with him?" He asked, equally sounding as confused. "Everything," I rolled my eyes in disgust as I could recall the memories I watching this character during the series I had so long not seen. "Firstly, he gives off the same vibe as a psychopath. The guy has no morals, is a selfish adult chasing after teenagers that had little to nothing about him, and he doesn't consider that maybe Lee didn't mean to replace him because he wasn't aware he even had a brother!"
"Okay, okay," Kole, wide-eyed, looked at me astonished by my taunting of the Serpent. His hand was raised in defence as he almost started backing away from the screen in his chair. "But didn't he, you know, turn into a good guy later on when he helped Lee and his friends escape? That's character development, right?"
I scoffed at his defence, "He only did it because he was trying to get payback on that 'blond lady' for stealing him from his family in the first place. I'm only stating that the guy is two-faced and a manipulative jerk! If I had the chance to meet him I'd give him a beating or two about some basic human decency. It's not like he's an animal that he can't learn at least a few." I suddenly heard a snicker. I looked to the screen seeing Kole holding back a laugh, covering his hand over a clenched fist but failing to hold it in. "What?" I asked him in a grumble, a little offended.
"Blake, you realise you're talking about a fictional character, right?" Kole asked this sarcastically through his laugh. His smile spread from ear to ear as he reached outside the side of the camera screen for a smoothie. I snapped back to him, "Saids you swooning over him in his defence. Sam would be jealous, you know." Archie in his lap yipped as if in agreement. In response, Kole merely rolled his eyes and muttered a "whatever" before taking a slurp loudly through the straw of his cup. As he finished his drink, Kole set his cup back down on the side of the camera and turned his attention back to me. "Aside from him, any other characters hate?" he asked. "Tons," I answered. "From him, being my number one, those that follow are Kimmie, her mom, Holgar, and Chaz- or was it Chad?"
"Honestly, I don't blame you with Kimmie. And I feel you with either one, Chaz or Chad." Kole sighed aloud, emphasising the last names rolling his eyes. "but what's wrong with Holgar, though?" I answered bluntly, "The guy's clingy. He's gullible, acts like a child, and people can agree, he's also oblivious." I made it sound as if it was obvious.
"True. Yet, because of him, he has helped Lee get through more pickles than one," Kole said this strongly as though it were matter-of-fact. "He's kind, loyal, plus, I think his purpose in the serious is mostly to give off comic relief and play the support character role. Even though people might not agree to enjoy his company, like you, Blake, I think the guy's pretty chill in my books."
"Alright, alright," Starting to sound more aggressive towards my earlier response, I raise my hands, laughing nervously at his passionate defence for the character. I then slowly leaned back more on my chair, looking to the ceiling and resting both hands behind my head to lay against the brace letting out a small sigh. "Geez, it has been so long since I last watched the show. I'm surprised you nearly remember everything about it since it stopped airing."
"How long was that?" I heard Kole ask curiously, and I think for a few moments before replying, "Not since it cut." I lifted my head back up as I promptly sat against my chair, my shoulders relaxed and shrugging. "It was way back in 2014, so like 5— no, 6 years now?"
I see Kole's face look at me, warped into one of astonishment and shock. His eyes widened, mouth gaped before narrowing into a grin. "You don't know that they have the whole series on YouTube from a couple of years back?" My eyes shot up in surprise, and my mouth gawked in disbelief, equally as shocked to hear his news. "Really? Can you send me a link?"
Kole had already started typing on his computer, and a second later, I received a message from him. I opened the link he sent, and it took me to a YouTube playlist with all 53 of the Detentionaire series! My eyes efficiently scanned through the screen page as I scrolled down to pass each thumbnail, all looking genuinely unique and almost new. "No. Frick'n. Way," I said each word slowly, trying to control the surge of trembling excitement in my voice. "Why was I never told about this?" I heard Kole laugh in the background. I swipe back to the Discord vid-chat to see him looking amused at my finding and bewildered expression. "I could've if I knew you liked it," He then paused for a moment, his eyes glancing someway before he encouragingly added, "Wanna share the screen and watch it til you feel better about tomorrow?"
I could see through the grin on his face trying to see this would be the perfect distraction for me to not worry about my first day of school tomorrow. I knew he was trying to help, and I allowed it. "Honestly, dude, I rather not even think about tomorrow," I told him with a sigh of relief and gratitude in my voice. "So, uh, yes!" I swiped my screen to the linked site and moved my mouse to click the playlist button. All at once, memories flooded back by the melody of the nostalgic theme song.
The first thing I register when I wake up is the massive heaviness and pressure on my head. I turn in my sheets, wanting to get warmer. I didn't want to get up, but I could suddenly the headache emitting from my temple building, which made me tiredly awake. I sit up from my bed, my arms stretched wide as I groaned.
"Uh… my head." I moaned aloud as the pain started to feel like a tennis ball bouncing inside my skull. I reckoned that it was probably because of me hitting the table in dad's office as I could recall the events from yesterday, but it might even be from last night. Remembering, I let out a cry of victory, "Fifty-two episodes of Detentionaire, K.O ed!"
The night before that I can remember was a haze. I stayed up with Kole all afternoon and evening watching the whole Detentionaire series glued to my computer screen. I had to stay in my room watching my dinner, and I disregarded my shower up to the second season. Around halfway through the third, after the eclipse and they found the underground submarine base, Kole suddenly had to log out saying he was getting tired. It was around 2 AM, but grudgingly I didn't want to stop.
I continued through the night and up to the final 10 episodes. However, my phone suddenly died and ran out of battery as the team was about to be shipped off to Coral Grove to save their friends! I eagerly pulled for my phone charging cord to plug it in. It was only in the first few minutes of waiting for it to recharge that I passed out. I don't recall any dreams that night but were replaced by the recap of episodes I watched replaying in a loop.
I reached for my phone by my nightstand and turned it on, slowly restarting from its black screen before it glowed bright white in the dim morning light through a crack in my blinds. My mind felt mashed as my lock screen appeared. The light from the phone made my vision fuzzy for a moment as I tried to peer closely at the time. It read 6:50 AM.
Perfect, I think to myself. My online class for English doesn't start til 8. I'll set a timer for 7:30 and get some more sleep. However, as I decided this, my mind suddenly had a momentary pause, and I slowly played back a lapse of yesterday's events.
Binder…Dad not coming…I'm going to school…Today…
The bus…arrives at…7 o'clock…Wait…
"OH SHIT!" My eyes widened in flabbergasted surprise. My body launched out of bed and was ready to break into a run. However, my legs tangled in my blankets and sheets making me stop short, and I slipped off the edge of my mattress. I fell flat onto the floor, and the rest of my body followed. Luckily I landed on some of the moving boxes underneath, and I thrashed out of the heap, untangling my legs before I started searching for my binder. Luckily, it was lying on the side of my chair where I had left it last and swiped it off before starting to wriggle it on through my head. The material seemed tighter than it was the day before, and in a rush, I started jumping around through my room while trying to force it down my shoulder and head.
When I finally managed to get it on, I ran straight to my dresser, pulling open the drawers and picking out the first clean clothes I saw. I slipped into a long black sleeve, which covered over my binder, and then covered that over a black and thin white striped shirt with ease. However, when it came to my blue denim straight jeans, I hobbled on one leg and struggled to fit my foot through the bottom opening. When I fastened the pants over my waist, I reached back to my bed to snatch my phone off the mattress to read the time. 6:55 AM! FIVE MINUTES LEFT!
"Crapcrapcrapcrap—SHIT!" I dropped to the floor of my bed, pulling out and recovering my old student bag, now worn off its leather and sewn with patches of cloth. I didn't know what to bring, but I started stuffing my bag down to the bim, making sure I had my wallet, phone, some blank textbooks, and of course, the backup bra while going back and forth around my room as panic grew in me. I knew that it was nearly an hour long to get to school on the other side of the city, and if I missed this bus now, I would have missed the first day!
"Seriously, Blake, the one time spent the night watching YouTube, you're gonna be late for the first day of school!" I grumbled this to myself, wanting to kick myself in the butt as I tried stuffing a hoodie into my bag. When I finally fitted it in, grabbing both the zippers of my backpack, pulled them to the top and closed it in tight. I had a moment of relief and was about to sigh, but heard the approaching sound of an engine stopping outside my house! I jumped to my feet and looked outside my window, seeing a white van parked across the street away and already boarding passengers on!
"I'm coming! Hold on!" I cried, dashing away from the window as I took my bag in hand with a swoop of my arm as I ran out the door, almost crashing into the wall. I sped down the hallway, trying not to hit any boxes as I scurried to the stairs. I felt something hitting me against the back of my leg. When I looked back, I saw that waving out of the bottom of an opening in my zip was half of my bra! I started to twist my body to reach for it, still running to the end of the hall as I tried opening the zip to squish it back inside. I didn't want people to see it flying behind me, but I was running out of time! "Oh, shi—AHHH!"
I was able to open my bag and stuffed the remnants of the bra inside, but as I turned back, my foot caught onto a missive box that blocked the top of the stairs. Before my mind could think to tell my body to save itself, and in the panic state I was in, my body had started to trip and fall. I tumbled down the stairs, hitting each step hard before landing face down on the floor. Sharp pain from my head riveted, and as it grew, I began to feel weak and unable to move while my body ached. My vision was blurred, and I felt dizzy as the hallway around me faded into darkness. The last thing felt was the pain subsiding, but my mind had submerged back into sleep.
Sorry if this chapter was a bit long. Tell me what you think of it in the comments.