Sometimes water is more important than blood

I can finally be myself. The thought crossed my mind as I was packing up the last of my boxes. It gave me pause enough to think about that sentence a little more, as I crammed the heavy containers into the hand-me-down car I was given. Being the oldest sibling in my family, you’d have expected me to get all of the first things, first phone, first car, first job. My younger brother got all those things, my car being his old one, and my parents don’t know I have a phone. Hopefully they won’t find out until long after I’m gone from here. My small group of friends pooled together to get me a cheap phone so I could talk to them without getting in trouble, and so far I’ve been able to keep it hidden from my parents.

I looked up at the sky, it was nearing evening, meaning I needed to get started on dinner soon if I didn’t want to get yelled at. I stretched a little, feeling my bones and muscles creaking. Less than 24 hours, that’s all I had left, I could do that. I headed back inside the deceivingly peaceful suburban house, white picket fence and all. I dodged the empty can of beer thrown at my head the second I opened the door and ignored the roaring laughter of my parents and brother for ‘flinching’. I went through the motions numbly, everything about my home life feeling so much more surreal now that I was leaving. I served dinner, put away the leftovers, made myself a sandwich, cleaned the dishes and the kitchen, finished up my family’s laundry, and got ready for bed. This was it. The last night I would be sleeping in this room. The last night I would see these people again. Exhaustion dragged me into unconsciousness, and I smiled.

My alarm blared at three forty-five am. I shut it off quickly, no need to let anyone know I was awake a whole hour before I was ‘supposed to’ wake up. I grabbed my backpack, the only thing left of mine in the house, and I stopped in the kitchen to scribble a note. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. This felt unreal, my breathing quickened as I unlocked the front door, got in my car, and began to drive away. I kept driving. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that I was crying. My throat tightened up, and a sob escaped my throat, then a giggle, then another, and soon I was laughing like a madman all the way into the next city over.

I pulled into the driveway of one of my closest friends at around six thirty, wiping my eyes with my sleeve and giggling. She answered the door, looking tired, and then looking concerned. “Oh my god, Al, are you okay?”

I sniffled, and grinned “I’ve never felt better.” She stepped aside to let me in, and I stepped over the threshold “Bea, do you have the letter I had mailed to you?”

She paused as she closed the door, thinking. “Oh! Yes I do, hold on let me go grab it. I didn’t look at it, so I still have no idea what name you picked.” she jumped up and headed into her bedroom, and I sat down on her living room couch, clearing the rest of my tears away and steadying my breathing. My heart was still pounding, but for an entirely different reason now.

I fidgeted with my hands. I hope Beatrice liked the name I picked out. This was it. This was the real beginning of a new life for me, they wouldn’t even be able to find me. I was no longer Alice, the Baker familys’ personal punching bag. Bea came back out with a bundle of papers in her hands. She looked as excited as I felt. “Okay, so,” she began “I wanted you to have the easiest possible time in your new life, so I made a copy of the court order- don’t worry, I didn’t look!” she interjected when she saw my face becoming more nervous.

“So I copied the court order, right? And then I managed to get your documents all changed, and I’ve got the copies of them here, all bundled together. Drivers license, birth certificate, state ID, social security card, you name it. My wonderful, amazing, beautiful friend handed me a stack of papers, wrapped up in a clear binder sleeve. I set them aside, knowing I would start crying again if I looked at them.

“And the thing you’ve been waiting for.” she handed me an opened letter, and I pulled it out, my hands shaking a little as I read it out loud.

“To all interested persons, this document shall signify that Alice Marie Baker has filed a petition with this court for a decree changing his or her name as follows: Present name, Alice Marie Baker. Proposed name” I took a breath “E-edward Alastor O’Kelly.” I smiled, the very first genuine smile in a long time. I also started crying again. Bea moved close to me on the couch, holding me as I cried happy tears into her shoulder, clutching the court order to my chest like it would disappear at any moment. I don’t know how long passed like that, but it was quite some time before my sobs dies down enough for me to speak again properly. “Do- do you like it, Bea?”

She smiled, “I love it, Edward.” She paused. “I do have one question though.”

“Mhmm?”

“O’Kelly?”

I laughed a bit, “Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know where I got that, would you. It was my Great-grandpa’s last name, and he told me he was always so sad that my dad changed it.” I thought of my great-grandfather, and how he treated me before he passed. “and, he was always nice to me, he knew that I was a bit different from his other grandkids and great-grandkids, and he taught me how to work on tractors and stuff, and let me play with his old toys when I was little.”

“aww!” Bea gushed, “So you wanted to honor him and his memory.”

I nodded, looking fondly down at my new surname. Even while recreating myself, I was still keeping a tie to the good parts of my family.

My stomach decided this was a good time to voice it’s opinions. Namely, that I hadn’t eaten very much in the past 72 hours, and I had overexerted myself for most of those hours. Bea gave me a look.

“Edward.”

“Yes Beatrice?” I asked innocently.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“About 9 yesterday.”

we sat in silence for a few seconds, which felt much longer than they were. Bea stood up and rubbed her hands together. “Well! That means I get to make breakfast!” I tried to protest, but she was insistent.

“Nope! Nuh uh! You grab your boxes out of your car and move them into mine, and I will make us a good, filling breakfast before we get on the road. I put up a halfhearted protest, before we went to complete our respective tasks. Moving the boxes into Bea’s van was a lot easier since I didn’t have to worry about space, and the boxes felt lighter. Not in a physical sense, they were still heavy as balls, but… they felt easier to move for me. I locked Bea’s van and headed back inside, whereupon a most glorious cacophony of smells hit me. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash browns. Bea sat down at the dining room table, pouring two glasses of iced tea for us. I smiled. Alice may not have had a very good life up to this point, but it looked like Edward could take the reins, and make a better life for himself from the cracked foundation that Alice had.

After breakfast, and a short nap, Bea took me to a junkyard, where we sold my brothers old car, and then began our three-day road trip to our new college a few states away. We took turns driving and calling in to different places for appointments we needed to make. Bea had a counseling appointment, and needed to check in with the RA at the dorms we would be staying at, I needed to make sure I had a doctor ready to meet me when I made it over there. We both made appointments to get some much-needed TLC. I was in charge of music for most of the trip, she was in charge of directions. On the third day, just before we made it into the state, while parked at a rest stop, I turned to Bea. “Hey, do you know where your scissors are?”

My best friend turned to me, mildly confused. “Yeah? I have a basic items kit in the glovebox, that should have scissors in it. Why?”

“I’m going to cut my hair.”

“Okay- Wait, what?”

I grinned as I headed for the van. “I’m gonna cut my hair!” I repeated.

Locating the scissors, I grabbed my long brown hair in my hand, and put it up in a ponytail. Bea was watching slack jawed as I chopped off the thick tresses, until I was holding the clump in my hands. I put the scissors back and threw the hair in the trash. Bea started cheering.

“Oh my god! You look so cool! Dude why didn’t we think to do this before? Let’s get a picture!” She pulled up the camera on her phone, and took a selfie. The two of us, faces almost squished together and grinning, with my incredibly short choppy hair, the sky behind us filled with puffy white clouds in front of an incredible blue. I loved it. I can finally be myself. No, I can finally learn who ‘myself’ actually is. Where I am safe and comfortable, both inside and out. Where I’m surrounded by people who love me, and actually show me that I’m important to them. Where I can let myself be whoever I am. Wherever that might happen to be.