I’m flying again. Racing across the rooftops of a foreign metropolis that still feel so familiar that I could place my feet perfectly even with my eyes closed. I feel weightless with speed. I vault across railings, run up walls with practised ease. I never run out of breath, never run out of strength.
I’m not just flying, I realise. This is more. It’s even better, somehow. There’s this energy soaring through my veins, this sunny feeling in my stomach, this lightness on my face and in my head. Like I don’t have to worry about anything for the first time in years, like I’ve finally returned home in spring, to the smell of freshly fallen rain and flowers and the song of birds and the feeling of sunshine on my skin after an eternity trapped in winter.
It’s like I just have to tap my foot against the ground the right way and I’ll lift off and never hit the ground again.
In the distance, I see a ledge racing closer. There’s a few nice jumps in between and a perfect run-up. The gap is huge, larger than anybody should ever be able to jump. But I know I can do it. I am made for this. I am made to fly.
I increase my efforts even further. I get faster and faster and faster and faster and then my foot slams into the ground and I soar through the air and it’s like I’m weightless. I lift further and further away from the ground as I move in slow motion toward the other ledge. I spread my arms and tilt my head back a little to enjoy the flight. I don’t even have to make sure I keep my balance.
This is so easy.
And then there’s the familiar feeling of fabric against my bare legs. And I look down.
I’m wearing a dress. It’s a pretty simple red one, plainly cut. The fabric is a little thicker, stiffer than usual, so it doesn’t just billow out in the wind.
The wind is cold suddenly. My stomach twists in a way that radiates all the way to the tips of my fingers.
I shouldn’t be able to fly. Not the way I am. This isn’t right. This is so, so wrong. I CAN’T fly.
My body obeys promptly and when I fall, it no longer feels like flying. There is no control to falling. There is no ‘tense your legs and brace for the impact’. The wind screams in my ears like an angry beast, tears at me, at my dress like it wants to take away even that.
This isn’t flying. This isn’t jumping. It’s not even falling. It’s the violent path straight down to certain death.
I close my eyes with a final breath and resign myself to my fate.
My eyes snap open.
Thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump.
Darkness.
Thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump.
My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I can feel it pulsing in the back of my skull.
There’s a void where my stomach should be. A black hole sucking me slowly in, carving me out until there’s nothing left but the skin.
The veins in my limbs twist painfully. My chest hurts. It’s hard to breathe at the thought of….
What?
I felt so happy just now. Happy, until I wasn’t anymore.
Because… why? Because I found out that I was wearing a dress?
It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense it doesn’t make sense it-
I hit the inside of my closed fists against my forehead, press my eyes shut, scream a silent scream that comes out a strained, gargled sob.
Get out of my head! Get out of my head! Get out of my-
I throw myself around, my wildly groping hand finds my phone, almost drops it in the hurry to grab it. I sit up. My palms are sweaty but I don’t wipe them.
Shivering thumbs unlock the screen and navigate to the contact list.
I can’t be alone. I can’t fucking be alone in my head right now.
I don’t even know what’s going on-
Another strained sob.
I scroll down to find Sadie’s name, but then, just as my thumb comes down for the last swipe that will get me to ‘S’, Kim’s name flashes.
Kim Elizabeth Schneider
She could understand.
Before I can think better of it, my thumb has come down and pressed ‘call’.
The nail of my thumb painfully presses against the tip of my index finger as I wait for the call to connect. My body rocks back and forth nervously. I want to press my eyes shut again but I don’t dare to take them off the screen for fear of missing the second the call is accepted.
The beeping sound fills the silence that is otherwise only disturbed by my ragged breathing. It beeps again, again, again, and again. And suddenly, I realise that it’s four in the morning and that no person in their right mind is going to be awake right now and that I could be waking her up. I’m being stupid, I realise. Stupid and selfish.
And then the beeping stops, even before I can make up my mind to stop the call, and her drowsy voice says, “Hi, Wells, what’s up?”
“Sorry,” I stammer and suppress the urge to sniffle. “I didn’t realise the time. I wasn’t thinking-”
“What happened?” she sounds a little worried now.
Finally, the reflex takes over and I pull up the snot in my nose noisily. “Nothing, really. I’m just being-”
She doesn’t let me finish. “Wells Richter, you tell me right this second what happened,” she says in a calm yet firm voice, all sleepiness gone. “You just woke me up, there’s got to be a reason for that and I’m not going back to sleep until I at least know it.”
I feel my shoulders sag. “I had a bad dream.”
Silence.
Then her voice. Uncertain. “Okay…. And how are you feeling now?”
Shouldn’t the answer be obvious? But I’m too spent for a snappy reply.
“Like shit. Like nothing makes sense. Like there’s a void in my chest and I’m slowly drowning in it.” Pause. Sniffle. “I’m scared. I’m scared and I don’t even know of what, I-” My voice breaks and I don’t have the strength to gather up the pieces.
There’s a noise at her end of the line. “Okay,” she says in a hushed voice. “I’m coming over. Can you text me where you live? But stay in the line, okay? It’ll take some time before I’m there and you really shouldn’t be alone, even if I have to concentrate on driving.”
Fuck, I realise. She lives way too far away to come by foot or bike.
“But you’re not even allowed to drive yet,” I say a little helplessly.
I don’t even know myself what I’m getting at, why I’m making the point.
She doesn’t sound swayed. “I’m almost eighteen. I’m already allowed to drive under supervision. And who’s going to check me at this time anyway?”
I don’t say anything more, then. My shivery thumbs open her WhatsApp chat and send my address. I mistype several times before I get it right.
By the time I’ve finally managed it, she’s already out the front door and I hear the car unlock.
“I’ll be there in twenty, okay?” she says a few seconds later. “I’d drive faster, but I really can’t risk that in the dark.”
There’s the sound of a motor turning on.
I breathe in as deep as I can. Feels like I’m barely breathing at all. Like there’s no air in here. I throw back the covers and get up.
Hastily, I put on my clothes from yesterday, jeans, T-shirt, socks, hoody. I leave out the sports bra, it’s too hard to breathe already.
Then I pick up the scarf and wrap it around my neck.
“I’m going outside,” I tell Kim in a choked voice, already standing by the door to my room. “I can’t stay here.”
“To the beach?” she asks, clearly busy focusing on the road. The motor is loud even through the speaker. “Please put on something warm, okay? It’s windy out there.”
Like I wouldn’t know. “Yeah, of course,” I mumble and turn down the volume of the call before I make my way down the stairs.
The air outside is icy and it bites my lungs as I heave it in deep gulps, but it is air.
For several minutes I stand there, barely three steps from the doorstep, breathing in deep, fast breaths, like a panicked animal, like I almost drowned.
And then my heartbeat slows a little and it gets easier to breathe normally.
Just having her there at the other end of the line, just knowing makes it so much easier.
With a huff, I bury my hands in the pockets of my jacket, hide my mouth and nose in the folds of my scarf and start walking toward the beach.
The night is eerily quiet, here by the houses. No seagulls, no humans, no cars. Just the whisper of the wind against the roof tiles and occasional trees.
I walk slowly but even so it doesn’t take long to get to the beach. Soon enough, I’m on the wooden walkway that leads through the dunes and I can hear the soft, regular rolling of the waves against the sand.
The wind is stronger out here and I briefly retrieve my hands from my pockets to raise the scarf a little, so it shields more of my face. I should’ve brought a hat. The wind bites my skin but this time it does nothing to mute the overwhelming emptiness in my chest.
It doesn’t take long and Kim is there. She must’ve found the way out here herself because she didn’t ask me for further directions.
There are just steps and then I look up and she’s there, a thick, woollen scarf around her neck and shoulders, a soft-looking hat with a pommel of fake fur at the top.
She looks different, I think for a moment, and then I realise that she’s just not wearing any make up. She’s still very pretty, though.
She pulls out her phone and I hear the line disconnect from my pocket.
“So,” she says then. “You took me up on the offer.”
I nod slightly. “Sorry about the time. I was so panicked I didn’t think.”
She gives a short shake of her head and smiles. “I’m here to help. Didn’t I say I’d be happy to?” Her grin grows just a little devious. “Because I’m just so good at it.”
I blush. “Sorry.”
“I’m trying to make a joke, dummy,” she says and nudges me playfully with her elbow. Then she pauses. “Right. Maybe a little inappropriate.”
“I appreciate the effort.”
She shrugs. “And anyway. I haven’t ever helped with something like this….” I feel her eyes on me as I look out at the water. The sky is mostly overhung with clouds. It’s darker than usual. The moon is only occasionally visible and even then it’s still hidden by a veil.
“So… would you like to tell me about your dream?”
“I was running along a roof,” I tell her. “Doing parkour. And I felt so good and light and fast. Then I did a really big jump and it was like I was flying and then I looked down and saw that I was wearing a dress. Then I realised that I shouldn’t feel that nice and I fell right down. And when I woke up I felt absolutely horrible.”
It sounds stupid, saying it out loud.
She’s watching me carefully, I realise when I look up briefly.
“Was that the first time you had a dream like that?”
I shake my head slowly. My face is hot and I move the scarf down with my chin. It feels so wrong to talk about this.
“I’ve dreamed of wearing a dress before. And then it felt nice, too, but it didn’t turn bad because of me. Other people told me it was wrong.” I pause with hesitation, then force the words out. “And a few days ago I dreamed I was a professional MMA fighter. And then I realised that I was a woman and only wearing a sports bra as a top but it felt right and I absolutely smashed my opponent.” I shrug, trying to rid myself of this gnawing feeling inside my chest. “And I don’t get it. It just doesn’t make any sense after everything that happened. You know what they used to call me, don’t you?”
She gives a jerky nod.
“I hated it so, so much. I hated myself for being that way, for allowing something like that to happen. So I changed. I fought so hard to be somebody I could be proud of, who could fit in and now this.”
I shrug helplessly.
“At this point I think I might even be able to live with this changing body for some time. Because what is there to it? I won’t be bullied because of it. I won’t have to change. I’ll lose a year, sure, but this… this feels like betrayal. Like it’s not just my body betraying me but my brain, too.”
The wind slows a little and I don’t feel any better.
“Do I understand correctly that you’re scared you’ll end up liking your changed body more?”
For a moment, I want to say no. I want to tell her that I know I’m going to hate it so there’s nothing to fear. But then I realise that she’s spot on.
So, reluctantly, I mumble, “Yes…”
I don’t dare to look at her. My gaze is firmly fixed upon the line where the black of the sea meets the dark grey of the clouds.
“But why, if you’re so certain about everything?” she asks and I can hear the frown in her voice. “You don’t seem to me like somebody who likes what’s happening to them.”
That twisting feeling again, all the way in my fingers.
Isn’t that the whole problem? I don’t like what’s happening to me. And still…
“And what if it’s a mask?” I press out. “What if it’s a defence mechanism because of what happened?” I take a deep breath. Some of the rigidity leaves my shoulders. “I don’t know what to feel anymore.” It used to be so easy. They used to tell me. Back when the world was black and white.
“How do you feel about wearing dresses in real life?” she asks suddenly, curiously.
I shrug vaguely. “I don’t think about it much.”
I hear Henry’s voice echo in my head. Do you remember when we were seven and you asked me whether I thought wearing dresses would feel nice?
I’m back in the centre of town, staring through the shop window. I’m in my dreams again and briefly, I feel light and warm.
Then I crash back into reality.
Half the chance. Half the chance.
Double the chance?
I want to break something.
I try to swallow the knot in my throat but it doesn’t help, of course.
And what if it were that way? What would be the problem with that?
WELLSIE!
My veins twist again.
“I know this is gonna sound stupid,” Kim says into the silence I’ve left her in, “but you might want to see this not as some form of divine punishment but rather as an opportunity? Because there’s only one way to find out whether those feelings you have are real, right?”
“I’m not gonna wear a fucking dress to school!”
“And nobody’s asking you to,” she says immediately before I can even start to spiral. “But maybe… you could try to stop looking at your changes with so much determination to hate them. Because what if you don’t? There’s no need to rush any of it. You’ve got so much time and the changes are happening whether you want them to or not. So maybe just… try to keep an open mind.”
I frown. That sounds stupidly sensible. “How do I do that?”
She shrugs. “You could just try to imagine your future as a man or a woman. Think about it and try to determine what feels better to you. You could grow your hair out. I mean, it grows so quickly anyway, just to try. But the most important part is that you take your time with it. Let happen what’s supposed to happen. You don’t owe an explanation to anybody.”
I don’t owe an explanation to anybody.
It takes a few seconds for the meaning of that to hit home. Then, somehow, the tension falls away.
Maybe because it’s a new angle. Maybe because she went through something similar and just told me that it’s okay.
The view is suddenly calming. This view that I used to hate is suddenly beautiful. The lazy crashing of the waves, the wind in my hair, the smell in my nose. My nose that’s slowly going numb in the wind.
“I was so scared that the virus was changing me, earlier. Even though there’ve been studies saying that it doesn’t. But even if it did. If it made me happier, what reason would I have to complain?”
Kim shakes her head. “I don’t think the virus changes you. If you change in this time, it’s not because the virus changes you. Honestly, it’s probably not even because you change. It’s probably just that you’ve always been this way and learn only now.”
“Pretty late, huh?”
She shakes her head with a wistful smile. “Nobody truly knows who they’re supposed to be at sixteen.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Not even you?”
She gives a short, dry laugh. “Definitely not me.”
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<3 Kim, Wells has so so so many friends who actually care about her, she's going to be okay, she's safe and she doesn't owe anyone anything, she's on the best place to grow and change, she gets to decide how things go <3
Wholesome fluff :)
Thank you Kim, that was a beautiful way to put things <3
Hopefully it helps Wellsie out
I wish I had friends like Kim lol
Aww poor Wells