shattered mirrors.— [cayden/sunrise]

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shattered mirrors.— [cayden/sunrise] Aug 1, 2021 16:23:33 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2021 16:23:33 GMT -5

We never truly see ourselves. We can see our reflections and photographs, but we will never be able to see ourselves without looking through some sort of lens. We see a reflection of ourselves, but the reflection can be tainted. Every time someone pushes a notion about what we are onto us, it creates a little crack in the mirror. And whenever we focus on what we wish we were instead of what we are, the mirror scratches. My mirror is shattered, and my reflection? Unrecognisable.

My father wants me to be like my brothers. Like him. Like all of the other careers in District Two. I want to be a scientist, a genius. Someone who has brilliant ideas. But, both of us are so far from the truth of who I am. I'm not entirely sure of who I am anymore. I know what I want to be. I know what my father wants me to be. I know what other people call me - a loser. But are those things what I really am? Or am I nothing but a shattered mirror, scratches and cracks permeating every part of myself?

My dad and I got into a fight today. We were home alone, which is never a good sign. My siblings don't know how bad things are between the two of us, and he wants to keep it that way. I thought someone was home, otherwise I would have just been hiding in my bedroom with some books, the door locked. But, I thought someone was there. And I felt brave. But, there's a thin line between bravery and stupidity.

I didn't want some dude to "tutor" me in being a career. I just wasn't built for it. I already spent most of my time training. I trained at the Academy. I trained with my siblings. I trained with my dad. All I did was train, yet I never gained much muscle. If anything, all of the training is probably what stopped me from gaining weight. And now he wanted some teenager who was only a few years older than me to train me? Teach me to be a career? It was a waste of everyone's time, really. And I told my dad that.

Speaking turned into shouting, shouting turned into screaming, and screaming turned into a black eye and bloody nose. I didn't want to be here right now. I slammed the door behind me as I went into my room, then out the window. I knew my dad wasn't going to let me out the front door, the neighbours might see. Luckily my window faces the backyard. He can keep his reputation.

I went to my usual place, holding tissues to my nose as I waited for the bleeding to stop. It was an old wooden bridge in town. There was enough room between the ground under the bridge and the river to be able to sit down, relax. A lot of teens liked to smoke weed under it. But, today as I approached it, I didn't smell the stench of weed in the air. Instead, I heard gentle crying. As I got closer to the bridge, the sound became louder. A peeked my head under and saw a person about my age. And, I decided for once I was going to choose the person I saw in the reflection was going to be a kind person.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Last Edit: Aug 1, 2021 16:24:29 GMT -5 by Deleted

Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]
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cozy, queer af

shattered mirrors.— [cayden/sunrise] Aug 2, 2021 19:32:25 GMT -5

Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Aug 2, 2021 19:32:25 GMT -5

I tried life underground but the only ones around
Were the ones who were dead and buried

I’ve gone and fucked up everything.

It was stupid. I was stupid. I’d been sitting in a chair all day, staring out the window, and I couldn’t get the feeling of my own hair out of my thoughts. It was so heavy and long, and it tangled, god, and I found one of the tangles when I was sitting in class. I could physically feel the tension building in my gut, the discomfort and the anger at that stupid, singular blonde tangle for everything it represented. I had to sit there for another hour before the teacher dismissed us. So I was itching in my skin when I got home, feeling like the whole world was grating against my very existence.

You know, like most days.

But today for some godforsaken reason I couldn’t get over it. I tried to settle into something else -- a book, my homework, something -- but none of it helped.

So I gave in. I dug through the bathroom drawer, found some rusty scissors, and chopped my hair off all the way to my ears. I would have gone shorter, but god, I’m not a hairdresser. I just wanted it gone, consequences be damned, and now it’s on the bathroom floor.

Needless to say, my parents weren’t happy.

So I took off. I grabbed my backpack, stuffed some warm clothes inside, and booked it. I didn’t know where I was going. I just wanted away.

This bridge is sort of comfortable. I figure it’s a better place than most to be a lone vagabond. I settle into a little nook next to a rock and lean up against my bag. I realize all of the things I’ve forgotten, like food, a water bottle, a toothbrush.

I curl into a ball, cling to my oversize sweater, and I sob.

And that’s when I hear it -- a voice.

”Hey, are you alright?”

I look up. There’s a boy standing there, peeking under the bridge at me with a curious expression and a bloody nose.

”Yeah,” I say instantaneously, the kind of response I’d give any passing stranger who’s bound to go on their way a second later.

But he doesn’t. And his nose is bleeding. And he’s still here, like this was where he was going in the first place.

Eventually, I add: ”Are you?”

Lyrics: Towards the Sun by Birdtalker

warehouse

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shattered mirrors.— [cayden/sunrise] Sept 15, 2021 2:31:05 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2021 2:31:05 GMT -5

For a moment I couldn't tell if the person was a boy or a girl. I know it's good to ask, but I felt like they weren't exactly in the mood for me to ask questions like that right now. After a second of thought, I decided they were probably a boy. Yeah they had softer features and not a very low voice, but he just seemed like a boy. He had short hair - that honestly looked like a wreck - and he looked like he had a masculine body type I didn't see certain traits women had.

While examining him, I took mental notes in my head to try to assess the situation. Messy hair. Oversized clothes. A backpack similar to mine. He might be a runaway like me or homeless. I can't figure out which is the right answer. He looks clean, hygienic, and I'd assume homeless people aren't. But his hair? His hair was disastrous. I decided not to bring that up, maybe I would later. And maybe later I'd ask about his gender too. But, it was a good idea not too.

And of course he asked me the question I didn't want. He asked if I was alright. Of course I wasn't alright. My dad hates me because I wasn't born with the talent of my siblings. My dad can't stand me because I don't want to be a career and I'd rather use my mind. Because of my dad, I don't know if I'll ever be alright. If it wasn't for him, I could come out. But as Cleo always reminds me when I try to come out, it would tear apart our family. More than she knows, more than anyone in the world knows.

I obviously wasn't okay. My nose was bleeding and I had a backpack on. I was trying to hide under a bridge on top of all of that. That's not what an okay person does. Max would never have to hide under a bridge. Max never has to hide. He doesn't have to hide from Dad. He doesn't have to hide a part of himself. He doesn't have to hide his books and pretend to be training. He's what Dad wants me to be. He's everything I'll never be. That's just not who I am.

But, they weren't okay either and they lied about it. If they were going to lie about it, so was I. And I wasn't going to just leave either. I knew I had to go back home eventually. And when I did? When I did I'd have to hide from Dad. Probably in Cleo's room. He never does anything if my other siblings are around. After all, he cares about them. Why would he? They aren't disappointments. They're real careers. And they're straight.

"I'm about as okay as you are... do you mind if I sit with you? I can be quiet. I just need to sit for a little bit until-"

-until my siblings get home so I can hide with them.

That's what I wanted to say. That's how that thought was supposed to finish. Until it's safe, until I can stand to look at myself in the mirror. Until I can remind myself to be what my family needs me to be. Until I can stop living in fantasies. Fantasies of being out. Those fantasies are dangerous, those fantasies coming true would be the worst thing that could happen. Those fantasies make me selfish. I feel selfish.

"until I calm down a little... I'm Cayden. But, just call me Cay. I don't like the name Cayden."

That felt so good to say out loud to someone other than Cleo. I'm Cay. Not Cayden. Cayden was who my dad wanted me to be. A warrior ready for combat. But that's not who I am. I'm smarter than that, I'm better than that. My dad is just far too dull to understand the importance of intellect. I suppose he can't know he's missing it if he never had it in the first place. Cay felt like it fit better, but Dad could never find out. After all, he's still convinced I can be like all of my other siblings. He doesn't know how wrong he is.