...for the Better?

 

The nice and crispy crunch under my sneakers was enough to tell me how chilly the morning was today. Luckily I had on a couple layers to keep what little of me all wrapped up in a warm set of clothes. A pair of blue jeans I thought might have been sweatpants at one point. To keep those jeans from falling down, I had to clip off a part of my shoelace and tie two of my belt loops together. The extra-large plain steel-blue long-sleeve shirt I wore was okay to wear. I just had to tuck the shirt in so I wouldn’t be mistaken for wearing a mini-skirt over the jeans. On top of the blue shirt, I had a cozy white sweatshirt with a lion’s shadow on the front. Not really sure what that was supposed to represent, but I had guessed the lion might have been a mascot for a university or minor sports team. To keep my head from getting a brain freeze, I had on a warm knitted red, white, and blue cap on my head. Short hair, smaller resistance against the cold temperature outside.

And I wasn’t in the best living conditions to be getting sick, so I had to bundle up, keep in shape, and monitor what I ate and drank if I didn’t want to see a doctor. I never knew who my doctor would be if I did become ill. There was also the chance that my prescription would change on me for something over the counter or simply off the shelf. I’d rather keep my nose clean and away from the wrong kind of folks who didn’t know which direction to breathe when under the weather.

I would’ve worn gloves, but the pair I once had had become a pair of socks. I did wear those… just to clarify, on my feet where they belonged, not my hands.

My face and hands would be the only parts of me exposed to the still-freezing morning. From time to time, I would rub my hands together and cup my palms to blow some labored hot breath into them. Otherwise my attention was on the surroundings and being diligently alert for anything that could resemble a joint to dine in at.

The tall buildings of the city were a bit of a Godsend for me. I had those red-bricked silhouettes keeping the breeze from freezing me half to death. That and the close structures managed to insulate the heat coming off of the idle vehicles warming up their engines.

A couple blocks from my home, I discovered that the Waffle Hood had a slight difference from how I last remembered it. Now it was Waffle House, highlighted in a glowing yellow light rather than the alarming orange the diner had once displayed. Looking at the place from across the street, I had to admit, yellow was better suited for a twenty-four hour dine and rest…

“...Oh, it doesn’t offer rooms anymore,” I noted to myself as I waited for the crosswalk to turn green. I could’ve approached the diner’s parking lot without waiting, like everybody else ever did, but I tried to keep some kind of order in my life if reality could not.

Once the symbol changed from the glowing red man, I saw a white WALK instead of the green. Another change, but one I didn’t mind so much as I had with others. For example, I noticed there were no longer any waist high medians between the opposing lanes. That made me wonder how traffic knew if they were starting to stray onto the oncoming lane without the barrier telling them to back off or get scrapped. In fact, I just now noticed there were no more road bumps outlining the intersections, but plain paint to indicate where vehicles were required to brake before entering the four-way square. I rolled my eyes as I imagined the number of drivers behind the wheel aiming to beat the traffic lights without caution.

Right when I walked halfway across the street, I brought my hands up to warm them again. As I blew into my hands, I first thought I saw a wave of heat come up from the street. That wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary if I had walked over a closed manhole, but I hadn’t.

Pulling my hands away, I saw the all-too-familiar warping atmosphere wrapped around my hands. “No. Nononononono…” Just standing there in the middle of the crosswalk, I only watched in horror until I mentally denied what was happening by shoving these hands of mine deep into my jean pockets. I was about to resume walking across --

-- but I instantly lost my sight.

I stood deathly still while straining to open my eyes wider to see, but I was blind. “Maybe it’s temporary?” It could’ve been. No one ever could tell me the experiences they’d undergone during the change. They never knew it had happened. I did and now I was experiencing it.

And I waited…

I couldn’t see.

It didn’t matter if I couldn’t see right now. This was a crosswalk and I had waited long enough for something to change. If I didn’t start walking, while I knew I was facing the right direction to reach the other side, somebody was going to start honking at me, and I didn’t need to be stressed out anymore than I already was.

I took one step and fell down hard on my knee. Without a choice, I took my hands out of my pocket and regained my balance as I stood back up. Once more, I tried to take a step --

-- and practically fell flat on my face. I was shaking now in fear of what had happened to me. Something had gone wrong. No one had ever been impaired by the changes. These things had never done harm before.

Just as I was pushing myself up onto my hands and knees, ready to crawl to safety, I heard someone yell out. No honking yet, but there was somebody who didn’t like what they saw on the street.

A single second later, a horn blared right next to my ear. I raised my hand up to wave at the driver, and instead felt the bumper mere inches from where I was crawling. Whoever was driving had nearly run me over.

Every muscle in my body seized up. I couldn’t move even when I silently told myself to do so. There was a new kind of terror in me that I had never come across before. I knew what fear was, and I had been scared stiff before, but I had not once encountered a feeling that froze me in place like I was now. The only movements I made were trembling and shaking. 

I kept my hand on the car’s bumper and my other on the street. When I tried again to move, I felt how cold and damp my legs were. Either I had fallen into a freezing puddle on the road or I’d had an accident. I was leaning to falling into something because my guy downstairs didn’t feel like he was shriveling up in the cold. Just my legs.

One more second had gone, and I felt and heard the car I was palming open and shut their door. Then someone boomed down, “What the fuck is your problem!?”

Flinching away from the voice, I responded with the biggest issue I had right now. “I can’t move.”

“Then move!” I blinked for the first time since this change in reaction to what he’d just demanded from me.

I wasn’t in the right mind or mood for bullshit, so I mutually responded to him. “Did you hear me!? I said I can’t move!”

“The fuck you can’t! I saw you walking just fine a minute ago.” Whoever this was, he was one belligerent asshole that had the sadistic nerve to yell in my ear. “MOVE YOUR ASS OR I WILL!”

Without thinking, just knowing where his face must have been, I moved, but only to headbutt the asswipe. That actually left me feeling like the one time I was stupid enough to skip down the stairs and smack my head off of the doorframe. It didn’t hurt until after I’d done it.

As for the road-raging driver, I heard him muffle a curse. A scrabbling noise later, I was lifted up off the ground and onto my feet --

-- and a dull, solid, and hard sensation instantly jerked my head back. Then came the sore ache spreading across my face. “Duh -- did yeh -- y-you punched me?”

Like the ring of a bell, my ears were assailed by a chaos surrounding me from cars honking and a few people shouting at either us or across to somebody in their cars. An instant after getting my face smashed, I was forced backwards, I guessed pushed, and fell straight down on my back.

While I was down, I heard the rapid and immediate clicks and claps of one or more people coming to make us two a crowd. There were hands on me and I tensed up by instinct.

Over top of me, I heard: “Relax -- hey, back up, back up!”

“The fucker wouldn’t move and attacked me!” That was certainly the asshole, but I could hear a lisp in his speech. Not sure, but I might’ve caused him to bite his tongue when I headbutted him.

“What the fuck man!” -- “I saw you throw one and lay that boy flat.” Not sure where that came from, because the voices sounded the same, but came from two different directions. Either those were two similar-sounding people or somebody was excitedly running across the street.

Traffic of different kinds was resuming either right by me or around us somehow. I supposed there was a good side to not having the oncoming lanes separated by a tall, walled-off median after all.

“Are you -- hey, hey, can you see me?” The person right above me propped my head up for a moment, but laid my head back down when someone told him not to move me.

“Let me see.” Someone else spoke and came down close by me, but there was a click noise. After a couple more seconds, “Fuck, are you blind?”

I frankly said, “I can’t see.” The moment I spoke, I had a coppery taste in my mouth. With the tip of my tongue, I began searching and testing each tooth before being relieved that all were accounted for and none loose. I swallowed, tasted the blood again, reached up to touch my lips, and felt the red trail ran up to my nose. “Did he break my nose?”

“WOULD YOU FUCKING MOVE OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” The lispy asshole was definitely not making any friends here.

Someone else from far off, I would’ve guessed either the Waffle House’s parking lot or the spot I had walked from, yelled back at the asshole. “No, I think you should stay put until the police arrive!”

“FUCK YOU!” And this guy was only becoming more pissed off. I was starting to wonder if he was doing anger management and forgot to take a chill pill this morning. “You all better get the fuck off the street before I run your asses over!”

“Put that lighter out and watch her.” I heard the guy above me shuffle around, or the other guy was swapping places with him, or somebody was moving around by my head. Then I heard him speak again. “Sir, you don’t pull your car off to the side and sit tight, I’m going to report you myself for assault, battery, hit and run, threatening us with violence and the use of a deadly weapon. You run now, you’re going to be dealing with more wasted time sitting around behind bars than you would sitting down in your car, over there, and staying there until the police get here.”

“Wait, what the fuck, you guys actually called the police for this little shit?! ...Fuck you all, I’m outta here.” That last note didn’t sound so much as angry but rather edgy, excited, like he was in a royal rage and jumpy as fuck at the same time.

The guy confronting him made one last statement. “Your choice. Look around. I see plenty of cells taking your early mugshot.” After that was said, I heard the slam of a car door and the instant grind of gears shifting and the engine stalling.

And a very faint, but audible, lisped line of cursing from inside the vehicle.

“Hey,” the person with the clicker spoke to me, “close your eyes. You can’t see, no point in letting the weather freeze your eyeballs off.”

I laughed only a little as I said, “Don’t you mean, ‘freeze your eyeballs out,’ rather than off?”

“You knew what I meant, that’s what matters, so shut it.” At his comical tone, I couldn’t keep from smirking blindly up at the sky or him. “Might be a minute or two until cops come. So what’s your name? I’m Josh, the big guy there is badass, and the one in the parking lot is losing his shit.” Now that did break me into a little fit of laughter.

Through my laugh, I said, “Daniel.”

“She okay?” I heard Mr. Badass, but I wasn’t sure who he was referring to.

So I asked: “Did the driver hurt someone else?”

“Ahhh…” Josh sounded confused for some unknown reason until he said, “I think he’s hurting himself? What the fuck is he doing?”

“Wait, what?” I had an idea who he was talking about, the driver, but I was now just as confused as Josh.

“I’ll be back, keep you -- Josh, right? Eliot, and thanks.” Mr. ‘Badass’ Eliot sounded like he was off to investigate the supposed self-mutilation of the driver.

“O-okay, so, that guy in the car, he’s apparently on some serious shit or needs to be.” I couldn’t have agreed more with Josh. “Hey, remember me telling you about closing your eyes?”

“I didn’t? Sorry.” I closed my eyes and waited for whatever was going to happen next, well, to happen.

Nothing else I could really do. Not until I heard a burst of sirens closeby, just to alert everyone to the authorities being here, and then silence until I heard the clicks of hard heels on the street draw closer, then approach rapidly, and finally pass us to start fading in the direction Eliot had gone to investigate the driver.

I asked: “What’s going on?”

“You don’t want to know.” By the sound of disgust in his voice, Josh was probably right.

But I suggestively asked: “How bad did he hurt himself? And any idea why he would?”

“Ah,” he paused for a moment, then he said, “He’s bleeding and I think he lost a few teeth when he tried taking a chunk out of his steering wheel. Uh-oh, he’s gone loco.” The way he said that last bit sounded catchy.

I said, “That’s beyond road rage --”

“Heh, you should see the YouTube collection on road rage.” He chuckled for an instant, then hissed, said “Ouch,” and finally mentioned: “The best videos are from Russia.”

With a smile on my face, I vaguely tried playing along as if I knew what YouTube meant. “Haven’t had time to surf the web, but I think I heard about that.” That wasn’t a lie; I had just heard about YouTube from Josh. “I only started listening to the radio this morning.”

“You haven’t seen… oh, I’m sorry.” He gave my shoulder a quick pat and said, “That was stupid of me. I didn’t mean to --”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” On the subject of getting beaten, I asked: “Are you sure he’s hurting himself? He didn’t end up in an accident while parking?” I didn’t hear a response, so I elaborated. “You know, he slammed on the brakes too hard and bit his tongue, or in this situation, the wheel?”

“Ah, no.” I felt Josh give my shoulder a pat before he assured me that what he had seen was no accident. “He’s still in his car and trying to punch through the window. Not the windshield, but like, literally, smacking his fists -- Jesus, I think he’s trying to threaten the cops. Yeah, he’s on something.”

“Speaking of which,” I had to ask this, “any chance you can help me up?”

He gave me another pat on the shoulder and said, “Probably best you stay down, girl.”

“Yeah, but my ass is freezing…” Did he just call me, “Girl?”

“Daniel, sorry, didn’t mean to be like that. But, no, you hit your head, he hit your head, and the street hit your head. Those are three strikes, stay out.”

By instinct, I felt compelled to correct him. “Don’t you mean ‘stay down,’ not out?”

“All that matters is you got what I was saying.” I had to smirk again at his bad comedy act. His tone changed when there were the sounds of more clicked heels approaching us. “Okay, Daniel, I think this is where we part ways.” Just as I was about to ask him what was going on, I heard a clatter, something being scrapped along the street, and I believe there were a pair of new people by me. Josh immediately said, “She hit her head like twice, ah, by accident… wait, no. That guy punched her after she fell and hit her head, and, uh, the second time she hit her head was when he pushed her back on the ground. Her name’s -- ah, wait, do you wanna...” His voice faded in an oblivious trail somewhere in my blown-away mind.

I tried working my jaw open to say something, I felt the question on my tongue, but the more he kept referring to me as a “she” and “her,” the more I comprehended what had changed about me. To be on the side of understanding the situation, I slid my hand over my thigh until I touched my crotch. On contact, I winced when I felt the cold dampness between my legs and would’ve cursed if I wasn’t going into shock upon further investigation.

Either I was too cold and numb to feel my stem and dingleberries or I had a new compartment for guys to park and unload their stuff. I really wished I hadn’t thought of it that way, but that was what crossed my mind. So not only was I blind, but I’d become a woman. I tried hard to recall if I had seen that happen to anyone before.

...Not really. Everybody I’d seen changed had either become different or better than they were before. Then again, I didn’t really socialize with many to know who they might’ve been before this thing happened to them. So there might have been cases like mine that flew under my radar. But no one, and I knew no one, had ever experienced a crippling difference before.

I began to realize I was breathing hard and fast, hyperventilating and becoming lightheaded from the ordeal. There was a buzz in my ear that I thought was people speaking directly to me, but I was too overwhelmed once I had started digesting what had happened to me. I was thankful for Josh keeping me distracted. But now my mind was going places that I’d tried not to think about for years.

It had happened to me. And now I had to live like this…

What I found funniest was my voice. The whole time I’d heard myself speak, I’d sounded no different from I used to sound. I had to wonder why no one else thought I sounded funny for being a girl.

After one little laugh from me, I felt myself float up, then settle back down, and float again until I drifted off into la-la Land…

---

“Daniel. Daniel.” Someone woke me and I tried to see who it was, but for some reason, I couldn’t. Then I remembered my blindness.

Since I couldn’t display I was awake, I announced it. “I’m awake… where -- am I in the hospital?”

I could hear the sounds of distant carts being pushed, conversations between a varied number of accented or just different voices, some clicking noises, people walking, electronics, rustling sheets, squeaks from the nearest doors, a clatter and something whooshing further down in a room or around some hall somewhere. There were so many noises, but I couldn’t tell what or who made any of them.

The voice responded. “You’re in the hospital, but you shouldn’t have been in one.”

In confusion, I asked: “Why? Being clocked out by some psychopath isn’t good enough a reason? I wasn’t hit by a car, but damn close. I fell a couple of times, not too sure if I did hit my head, but I do have one Hell of a headache.” To add onto all of that, I said, “Oh, yeah, nearly forgot, I went blind while crossing the street. Any explanation for that one?”

“Bitter much?” Whoever this was, I had to laugh at their response.

So I apologized and tried to vaguely explain my position. “I’m sorry, but if you had seen the things I have, you’d understand.”

“We now know and are sorry you have lived in fear for so many years.” I didn’t just start to wonder who this was, but jumped to suspicion of this being somebody involved with the changes. “We are doing everything we can to make everything better --”

“Better?” I didn’t know where this person was, I heard them, but couldn’t tell from which direction. Their voice sounded like they were all over the place. But I still spoke up about how much better I felt. “Blind. A woman. I couldn’t walk. Nearly ran over. Beaten. And now I’m in the hospital with no insurance to save my sore ass. Yeah, everything is just peachy here… oh, nearly forgot, I hate peaches, so lay off my toothpaste!”

There was a concerned tone in the voice when speaking. “We couldn’t read you. Everything that has been done was guesswork --”

“Guesswork?” I shouldn’t have interrupted the voice, but I was confused again. “What are you talking about?”

“We made corrections, improved lives, and worked the world up around you to become better… but you did not, or would not, or could not be a part of the life we tried offering you.” I tried to look back at all the different things I’d seen done over the years and couldn’t believe any of those were brought up as a selection for me. “We laid out many options for you to choose and your choice continued to be that of a transient life.”

I said, “What choice did I have? You were going to change everything I would’ve worked hard for.” This thing had to be told and made to understand how rocky my life had been up until this point. “Because every day there would be something different, for example if I had a job, you would turn it into something else, maybe better, but I wouldn’t know how to do my job anymore. And if I did, I couldn’t gain the experience fast enough to upgrade someplace higher because of these changes. If I tried to learn who I worked with, or what my new position was, or showing my dedication off to the boss -- oh, look, I don’t work there anymore… what would be the point?”

“Was that why you chose that life?” I lifted my head up to get a general direction where this voice was coming from. “You feared all your efforts would have been for nothing?”

“They obviously were. Look at me. How the Hell am I going to be capable -- on top of owing for the ambulance ride I likely took, I’ll have to pay for the hospital services, and I’ll likely have to start some kind of therapy to learn how to live as a blind… a blind woman.” I shook my head at that one. “How is turning me into a girl supposed to make my life any better?”

“Two interested options.” I tried figuring out what the voice meant by that.

But I had to correct the voice. “Don’t you mean ‘two interesting options?’ Jeeze, now you are sounding like him. Interested implies something entirely different than interesting.”

“Good choice. The other one stood up for you, but that one you chose made you smile and laugh.” Lifting myself up onto my elbows, I tried once more to both hear where this voice was located and what they meant by what they said. “We will enjoy seeing you two together.”

“Wait… you mean Josh?” After a second, I also said, “What do you mean ‘Good choice?’ I didn’t choose -- you still there?” I waited for a moment to hear the voice speak again, but there was nothing. “Hello?” Still nothing. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t leave like that. I still -- what about making things better… you blinded me…”

I shut myself up before I would let the tingling emotion in me build any further. Without knowing who was around, I didn’t want to appear pathetic. I wasn’t weak. I hadn’t tried so hard to live in this chaotic reality for me to suddenly fall on my knees and weep over my losses. If I’d never find solid ground to stand on, then I had to be hard enough to withstand these constant waves of changes.

“Fine,” I said and laid back down in the bed I was in.

I felt around for a moment, feeling for where the blanket and sheets were lined up before straightening them back over my shoulders. For a few breathtaking moments, my straining features tensed as I thought harder about what I should do from now on. The more I thought, the deeper and louder I breathed until I knew I was close to losing my composure again. Holding my breath for one moment, I turned and buried my face into the pillow, winced when my sore nose was pressed in too hard, sniffled once and pushed my face down more carefully in the cushion. If I was going to cry, I would do it into something that could muffle me. If not, at least I’d prepared for this pitiful incident.

After a couple of silent moments, I realized that this wasn’t just an incident. This was my entire life. Instead of pressing my face into the pillow, I grabbed and pulled it down to my chest and simply hugged the comfortable fluff tightly. Laying my jaw down on the corner, I quietly said to myself, “It could be worse.”

“Yeah, especially if you keep leaving your eyes open like that.” I lifted my head up off the pillow and leaned toward the general direction of what sounded like Josh speaking.

After a moment, I said, “Huh?”

Something poked me on the forehead, and with the voice of a far eastern accented wiseman, Josh said, “You need shut eye or you get pink eye.”

In reaction to what he told me, I placed my hand on my face and let my fingers roam around until I could confirm my eyes were shut. The only way I could tell if my eyes shut or not was by my lashes, and that was barely registering to me when I had a lot more stressful matters on my mind.

But I smiled and said, “Hi, Josh. How did Mr. Badass and the cops handle the psycho?”

“Ah, you really don’t want to know that one.” I probably didn’t, so this time I didn’t push for more details and simply listened. “Anyways, how are you doing?”

After I laid my head back down, I told him the truth. “I could be better.”

“Yeah, some more than others.” I only gave him a tiny smirk at that honesty. “How come -- you have anyone coming in to see you?”

“No idea.” I wouldn’t know what else about myself had changed. I could have a whole different history than what I’d been trying to live through. “As far as I’m aware, you, and maybe Eliot -- if you told him -- are the only ones who would know I’m here.”

“Wouldn’t the hospital notify whoever was on your list?” I had laughed at that one.

I had told the voice about not having insurance, but now that I thought about it, I might have some now. “Who knows.”

“Wow… you make it sound like nobody cares about you.” I kept silent on that one because I truly didn’t know if there was anyone out there that cared about me. Or even knew if I existed. “Hey, Daniel -- okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up if… hey, I’m here. I at least cared to come check up on you.”

I silently wondered why he had spoken like that for another moment. Then I didn’t wonder anymore when I felt the line of tears running down my face and across my lips. This was exactly what I didn’t want to be seen, let alone happen. Immediate after I found out I was crying, I brought the pillow up and buried my face in it. 

“Daniel…” As he said my name, I heard something squeak across the floor nearby until it clattered upon settling. I supposed a chair, but I could’ve been wrong. “Ah, hey, I don’t have anything going on today. I can stay here with you until… I don’t know, until someone you know shows up or, ah, maybe you tell me to go.” I was keeping quiet until I could relocate where my resolve had gone. But he spoke again. “Maybe, ahm… maybe I should give you some time --”

“Please stay…” The moment I spoke, I lost. The silent crying had gone up a notch for the two of us to hear. “Please, don’t go… I… I’m tired of being alone.” Taking the pillow off of my face, I told him something I’d never told anyone. “I’m scared of living like this with no one. Every day, I don’t know who anyone is or what they would look like without telling me… everyone, everything, everywhere is different every time I wake up and go out. I have to spend hours just searching for someplace to eat… if I can find it.”

“Daniel...” For a silent moment, I didn’t know what would happen next other than me bawling my eyes out.

I felt his hand by my cheek, brushing away the tears running down my face, but I didn’t give him a chance to do the same with my other cheek. I took a hold of his hand in both of mine, so I would know where he was, and held on. I felt him pat me on my shoulder, and in response to that touch, I bolted upright instantly and collided into his arms.

We held each other for who knew how long, I couldn’t tell time anymore without looking, but I made a guess that we’d held on for much longer than either of us expected. Then he had to go and say, “So, uh, you have a boyfriend?”

I croaked a, “No.”

“Ah, gotcha, gotcha… want one?” I couldn’t help it, I laughed at the suggestion of being offered a boyfriend when I had no clue what either of us looked like.

...And laughed a little harder when that happened to be my first issue over considering that I used to be a guy being asked by another guy on going steady with him. Without realizing it, I asked: “Do I want one?”

He quietly whispered: “Nah, you don’t want him, he’ll bore you to death.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” came out of my mouth.

“Is that a yes?” There was a kinda hope in that voice.

And I didn’t want him to leave me alone. Especially after my episode… I just held him tighter in a silent response.

“...Wait, is that a yes?” A hiccuped laugh escaped me at his concerned question.

So I told him, “I’ll give you a shot.”

I felt him wiggle in my arms and hiss a, “Yesssss.”

I had to admit, he knew how to cheer me up…

---

There were a lot of changes made in my life. Some of them I was and would forever be clueless about, not without investigating the matter myself, but that wasn’t an option when I didn’t know the questions to ask or the direction to look. And at least half of that wasn’t possible anymore.

After so many years of living my life in fear, I did realize what that voice, that thing, had told me. I was afraid to commit to anything because I might lose. I’d never given my life a real chance to gain anything. Just like I had thought all these years, I was adrift out at sea and waiting to find a landing for myself, but I never once tried working towards any direction to find it.

And I had to be pushed off and fall hard, right out of what little I already had in my worthless life, struggling to find a way across my hopeless situation, braving against a violent storm of emotions, and from my sea of despair, I was rescued. I wasn’t the same after that, but I was much happier than I’d ever been before the life I have now.

All I had to do was adjust, just like anybody else going through their new lives...