Crabapples

Content Warning: 

Spoiler

lost loved ones, depression, dysphoria, mention of death.

[collapse]

The sky was so pink. Pinker than it ever got down south, juxtaposed against the barren trees.

So many memories clouded her thoughts that it was hard to bear. She remembered all the friends she ever had over the years. A gang of misfits, they called themselves. It rang true to all of them.

Boyle, the lad who never spoke up, even when asked something directly. Haley wasn't sure he could even speak, not properly, until he confessed his sexuality to her on a warm winter's eve, warmed and loosened by the alcohol they imbibed.

Sadie, the oldest of them all. She worked a diner better than anyone ever. A full house could depend on her to keep their coffee's full and stomachs fuller; provided the kitchen could keep up, that is. Sadie had never taken a husband, or a wife for that matter. It was much later on in life when Haley finally found a word to describe her oldest friend, asexual. Haley was so elated to hear it that she called Sadie immediately from the closest payphone she could find. They shared such a good laugh, delighted that children one-third their own ages could come up with such a perfect word.

And Dylan. Poor sweet Dylan. She had meant the most to Haley. A victim of time and place. When she couldn't bear the world anymore, the world refused her, and she died alone. Much earlier than all of us.

No matter. Only Haley remained now. The memories of her friends were the only things keeping them alive.

So, what was she waiting for?

“I could see the smoke coming from your ears from the kitchen, dear. Isn't it cold?” Came the sweet voice of her lover.

Haley bathed in the melodic voice of the woman who managed to capture her heart. Soothing and sweet, much like the tea now in her hands. Sipping at it gave her the courage to continue her thoughts, but not before reassuring her girlfriend. “I'm fine, just the past. I'll be back in a sec.”

Dylan shared with Haley her own secret as well, when she finally couldn't stand to hide it anymore. She was transgender, just like her, and she wasn't going to hide anymore. She was going to live her life to the fullest from now on, or it'd be the biggest regret she'd ever have. Dylan, now Sophia, didn't live that much longer; but for the short time she was alive, wow, was she ever. She held all of our respects for her bravery, for her courage, and for her hope.

All gone the moment she died at the hands of some degenerate.

It hurt to think about.

Goddess alive, was she gorgeous. Nothing could touch her happiness, not even the scorn of the neighbors. She managed to gain laugh lines in a single week!

“It hurts...”

“What does, Haley?”

Oh, how she did love to hear that name; especially from her lips. “I hold in my hands something Sophia would have killed for. She was so sweet, you would have loved her.”

A comforting hand found hers, warmer than even the tea. Another sip.

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She was.” Tears flowed freely now, unable to keep them back from the waves of feeling. Burying her friend had hurt so much, especially since she could have prevented it, had she only gone home with the girl that night. Not her fault, though. It was that scum's fault. Five years was too easy for him, and remembering his name would be too good for him.

She decided to focus on the hand in front of her, so warm and smooth and small, and so much unlike her own that it made her want to gag, and it held a pill given to her by an impossible person.

Still, Haley hesitated. She knew what it was, too. There were acquaintances; people who went to fight in the war, who came back changed and with an illness not yet well known.

Survivor's guilt, it couldn't be anything else, Haley reasoned, and that didn't help at all.

“She'd want you to have that, you know.”

“I know. I just wish I could have given it to her. She was so alive. You should have seen her.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Do it for Sophia. Do it for your sister.”

Her sister. So alive in her own way. Calm, confident, and ready to tease and play better than anyone her age. She was Haley's only confidant. The only one who shared her secret until her lover, who was a hero to herself and to her older brother. Her sister also died too young. So she took it.

Downing the pill and, swallowing it with a sip of tea, she marveled at the grotesque hand she wore for the whole of her life. It slowly shrank, and so did her height. She could tell because of the way she had to scoot back onto her seat again.

Haley was downright giddy; because Haley was finally Haley.

“Your sister would be proud of you, you know.”

“I know, Cathy—.”

A pause, to drink in her new voice, just as melodic as Catherine's. It reminded her of her late sister. One final gift to help carry her memory into the new unknown.

“—I know.”