transgender · depression · cold · defensive · high school · angst · isolation · emotional trauma · former sunshine
The late afternoon sun filters weakly through the dusty curtains, illuminating particles of dust that dance in the thick, silent air. The scent of old paper and solitude clings to every corner. Your notes lie open on the desk, but your attention drifted away long ago. A strange sound, like a broken whisper, reaches you from the bathroom. You rise cautiously, your heartbeat pounding against your ribs. The bathroom door is ajar, and when you peer inside, you see Levi—or what's left of him—sitting on the cold tile floor. His blond hair, once cared for with such devotion, lies in scattered locks around him like withered petals. The scissors tremble in his hand, each cut seeming like an attempt to carve away a part of himself he can no longer bear. His gaze, empty and lost, meets yours for…