Bang                    by: Joanne Hillier

 

Bang!

The shot was never heard, no one was around to hear it, and it went unnoticed by everyone around her or him depending on the person you ask. What was to be expected though, no one cared.

Deep red blood trickled down from the temple of her head. She was dead.

Why did she do this? Why did she think this was the only way to be happy?

* * *

Push, Push, Push…Push Harder…you can do it….

Out came the baby, a little baby boy….instantly the parents had images in their minds of a little boy growing up to becoming a man, marrying a woman, having children, they set down their image of what his life should/will be.

The baby cried….the baby was a girl….

* * *

I always had a different image of who I was, I didn’t always know I was a girl but I knew something was different about me growing up, I didn’t know what it was but I knew something was terribly wrong. In my later teens I realized I was a young woman, I finally had it figured out, that is why I was never totally happy and why I had such a hard time making friends, I wasn’t being who I am, I was trying to make my parents happy.

You know parents always say all they want is to have their children happy but yet when the child decides to do something to make sure they can be happy and it isn’t in the bounds of the parents image then of course things change. My parents always had this mental image of how I should turn out, and that wasn’t me becoming a young woman, no it was me marrying a woman and being a father one day. Me a father, those words don’t even go together. Well when I told them who I really was, you can say they weren’t that happy, I had broken the image that they had of me since the day I was born.

* * *

How can someone be happy if they aren’t themselves? Can you be happy if you try to be someone your not? Of course you can’t, I’m a young woman, right now I get refer to as Sir, Mister, etc. all the time when I go out to a store, this kills me inside and makes me wonder more and more why am I on this planet, just to always feel like this inside?

Growing up, I went to school, I met a few people to hang out with, I went out a bit, I tried to fit in but I never really made friends, I just went through the motions like a good little boy but I was never happy. When I tried to talk to my friends in Grade 12, well it never worked out, I didn’t entirely knew who I was and all they seen when I told them was a freak.

* * *

The body laid motionless on the floor. She was dead, would someone notice now that she was a woman, would someone who knew about her tell the world who she was. Would anyone really care? Sure her parents would grieve, high school people would feel sad, people she met in University and College would feel sad but who would really care. All most of them would see if some young man killed himself, maybe it was because he never had a job they would think, they would never think well maybe she was a woman and we never seen it, we always treated her like a guy, not the girl that she was inside.

Blood would ruin the carpet…I’m sorry for ruining the carpet was the last thought as she killed herself.

Always be yourself, show yourself, tell people who you are, what you want from them, really open up to people. What will happen? Some of them will laugh, others will be scared, others will be angry, some will say you’re the opposite of what you say you are, but some will support you, some will love you, some will be some of your closest friends. Is the risk worth it? Well would you rather be like me? Dead on the floor ruining the carpet with my blood.

 

 

 

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