Lucins

Hey ya'll. This is just a short prologue to introduce the MC the chapters will usually be longer than this one.

CW Transphobic parents and death

I lay on what I knew was going to end up being my deathbed wondering where it all went wrong. Throughout most of my life I had been bullied for being the ‘different kid’ and then when I tried to go through Uni I didn’t even make it past the second year, instead ending up dropping out. I spent the next three years of my life trying to search for a job, miserable and thinking that I was useless and that no one would ever want me.

Until 2 years ago when everything started to get better for me, first I realised I was trans and started to transition, then I found people who got me, started dating again and got my dream job. Then, as I was starting to be happy with my life I caught a disease that had a name so long that I couldn’t remember what it was, all I knew was that it had a low survival rate.

Now here I am, in a nondescript hospital, breathing my last breath while cursing the world for torturing me for so long, then ending it just as I was starting to think that life was worth living. I wish I could just restart everything and do it properly, there was so much stuff I would change about my life now that I had experienced it, but that wasn't how anything worked.

There was no point in me having these thoughts so I tried to get out of this depressive spiral by looking around the room for the thousandth time since I was moved here. The room I am in is a typical hospital room filled with the quiet cacophony of the many machines naively trying to prolong my life as much as they can and an incessant rhythmic beeping of the vitals monitor that shows the other machines failing to help me.

The walls, ceiling and floor are the usual boring sterile white, the dividers, which gave me little privacy from the other patients in the room, and the beds were a pale blue that barely added any colour to the room. Outside the window is a forest which has the last light of the autumn sun shining above it, I can already see a few of the brighter stars shining in the sky.

The room was pretty barren so I quickly ran out of things to look at, luckily before I could fall down another depressive spiral a knock softly hit my door. Before I could answer the door opened to my parents walking in to say their final goodbyes, the doctors had told us yesterday that I wouldn't make it to the morning so my parents had decided to say goodbye now before it was too late.

They both have deep bags under their eyes which were bloodshot from crying, but they tried to not show how they were feeling in front of me in a naïve attempt to try and ease my mind. ‘Justin’ my mother said sombrely, calling me by my deadname even though I had been on HRT for about a year now. I had hoped that today, of all days, they would just call me Elizabeth since that was my chosen name.

But even now they still didn't believe that I was trans. She grabbed hold of my hand while continuing ‘I had never thought that this would happen and it is difficult saying goodbye to my own son. But if God has decided to take you from us now then I will trust in his judgement, we love you and will miss you, but one day we will see each other again in heaven.’ 

With her religious speech, that somehow made it sound like me dying was worse for my mother than me, done my mother let go of my hand and stood up, barely holding back tears. Letting my dad say his goodbyes. ‘Son’ My father said, almost crying but barely holding it in, even though he was a traditional man he could be really emotional sometimes, which I would be fine with if the emotion he expressed most of the time hadn't been anger.

Instead of taking my hand he placed a hand on my shoulder and looked over me as I laid in the bed, not having enough energy left to even sit up. ‘I can’t really say much that your mother hasn’t already said except that I also love you. I am going to miss you deeply for the rest of my life and I am sorry that I haven't been a better father to you.’ not one for long speeches that was all my dad said.

‘Thanks, I love you two too and wish I could have had more time to be with you’ I said in a raspy, quiet voice, the disease had destroyed my lungs so it was hard to get any sound out. Seeing that I had finished talking they then started to turn around to leave but I could feel my body giving out and I probably had minutes left.

I could have let them leave with things as they were but I was a dramatic bitch so instead I said the final words that I had spent the last week coming up with after I was moved to the ICU, ‘But my name… is Liz…’ I didn't know if I had even said it loud enough for them to hear it but the world turned black before I could see a reaction either way, I knew I was dead.