Free As The Clouds

CW: Language, transphobia and phobia of polyamorous relationships, self harm, mentions of suicide, violence/bullying, runaway

*This is my first time doing second person, hope it works. Also, I'm not sure if this counts as a "coming of age" story, but I thought it fit.

You sat there in the small grassy field near a park, reading one of the last few books you would end up having left. You still had one hundred fifty seven dollars from the two hundred the man gave you, but it wasn't going to be enough. You couldn't live off of Dollar Tree goods forever. So, you decide you would sell the books you owned. Sure, it was illegal, but who cares? You thought. 

Soon, the words on the pages melted, and you closed the book. You tidied your stuff up a bit, before laying down. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you did. You took in the sounds of children laughing, parents scolding, and birds chirping. You took a breath of the fresh air before looking up at the sky. For the first time in three months, you smiled. You watched the clouds slowly inching across the blue sky. 

Despite the loud noises coming from the park, this was all so calm. Including your own thoughts, you would realize. You noticed that nothing mattered when you stared at these clouds. Your smile grew as you noticed this. I could do this forever. You thought with a happy sigh. You would laugh. I can do this forever.

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You were eleven years old when you searched "can your body make you want to throw up". When you looked at the answers, seeing that they were only illness either your usual illness or you forcing yourself to vomit.. You knew that wasn't it. So then, after some thought you searched "why would one hate their body" and once more… Not the response you wished. So I'm just a freak. You would think to yourself, turning off your phone. 

Later you would come across a YouTuber. Jamie Dodger. You would see one of the many videos of him reacting to bisexual memes. Not knowing much about the LGBTQ+ community(other than what they showed in crime shows), you clicked on it. And naturally, when that video finished you checked out his other videos. You saw one of his transgender memes videos. You clicked on it.

You watched a little of it, kind of relating to bits and pieces of it. Then, when you looked over to the "Next Up" you saw one of Jamie Dodger's reacting to nonbinary memes. You blink. Nonbinary? What's that? You click on it. After several minutes of watching that video, you searched "nonbinary", looking at the various things within that search. 

And then it hit you- like a train. That's what that was. The vomiting. It wasn't the usual dysmorphia everyone experienced but gender dysphoria. You decided you would spend your free time for the next few weeks watching Jamie's and other YouTubers videos about this. You even joined a new social media platform, where it was normal to hide your "true" self(in fact it was expected). So, you decided to try out these new descriptors that came with the they/them pronouns.

Two months past, and you knew it was time. You were talking with your mom, about the test you past(again, I know. Some things never change.) Soon it was seven and you had to go to bed. You bit your lip when she called you her "baby girl". It felt so wrong, you felt a little of yourself die. You look at her. "Hey momma, can we talk about something tomorrow?" She would give a look before nodding. 

As you went to your room, you would hear her mutter "I'm going to have a fucking heart attack." Despite knowing she probably didn't know what you were talking about, you panicked. Tears coming to your eyes. You climbed to your bed, the top bunk. You would lay there for an hour, maybe an hour and a half, and then your anxiety would swallow you whole. 

You would pull your phone out from underneath your pillow and go to your contacts. You would click on "Mom". You would start typing immediately.

I know I'm not suppose to be up still nor have my phone right now but I'm scared momma. I've been thinking about it for awhile now and I think I'm nonbinary. A friend at school has been referring to me by "they/them" pronouns. It feels so right- please don't be mad momma.

She would message you back, telling her that she loves you no matter what, and go to sleep. When you woke up for the next day, it went as normal. When you gave hints to your sister to call you "sibling" and not "sissy", they were ignored.

When you would comment on hating your breasts day in and day out your mom would simply say "It's normal." You would bite your tongue and nod. After all, you were eleven, and she was in her thirties. What do you know? Besides, perhaps it was. Your mother wasn't transphobic, like all those weird people online. She accepted you loving girls and boys, she didn't care. Maybe you really were too young to know if you were nonbinary.

In your first year of middle school, you knew quite a bit about gender dysphoria, however due to your mother's "It's normal." you waved it off. Mother knows best, after all. And when you told her of that one moment, in third/fourth period(it was a block period), she told you that's okay, and to not just kiss everyone. You knew she meant make out, you just wanted to give Vi a kiss on the nose, and hug her tight. But the point was still the same, she expected you, right? That's all that mattered.

Later on that year, you realized that you liked both Vi and another person in class. You were confused, so naturally, you searched it up. "Polyamorous". You read about it, watched videos covering memes about it, and it made sense. Too scared to confront Vi and Kazie, you went to a "friend"(you two were more than friends, but you weren't quite sure) online. He insulted you, calling you a whore, a slut, needy, etcetera etcetera. In tears, you blocked him. 

You made a post, asking if liking more than one person was normal, and you got so many private messages. All saying the same thing he did. And over time- you believed it. After all, you did do those kind of online roleplays, to make them happy. But what if it was true? You were just a needy whore, a slut. You ended up believing it during seventh grade. You ended up lying, whenever you liked someone- and they liked you back. If another person you liked asked you out, you would say yes, especially since they were usually on a different part of the platform. 

And since all of you were online- it was easy to keep it all apart. You felt shitty doing this, telling them they "were the only one", but you tried just having one partner, but you felt like dying. So, you kept this lie. They all made you happy, they accepted you. All of you. 

You decided to write a story, set place in eighth grade. Naturally you being you, it was going to become a Naruto fanfiction, with your main characters be crossed over into the Naruto universe by some freak accident.. But you decided to use it as a vent, of sorts. A happy one. You had the main three characters be poly, like you. But unlike you, they didn't hide it. 

Excited, and believing your family(mom, her boyfriend, and your sister) were accepting, you shared it to the two adults(your sister was in third grade, her voice didn't matter that much when it came to your stories). Your mother would comment the usual "It's nice." before continuing her own thing(she didn't like stories, you knew that and didn't mind, she tried at least.) Her boyfriend however, continued reading the story. We were alone in the living room as mom had left.

"It's a good thing she didn't finish this." He says. You blink, confused.

"Why?"

"You can't just high schoolers fucking around, Wendy." He says looking at you. You tense up, but nod nonetheless. You, and everyone else, continued the day as normal. His words, all of their words, in your mind.

When night came, you decided to ask both of them what they thought. You made your own section on the platform, and invited them both. You told them.

An almost thirteen year old can only keep so much in(even if you were an introvert). The same thing as before happened, but worse. You were crying, how could it be worse? They tried to make you choose one of them. Choose one of them, and not talk to the other. You asked why avoid the other, and they insulted you again.

You transferred ownership of the section to one of them, before blocking and leaving them both. Am I really a whore? You would wonder to yourself, ignoring your tears as you stared at the wall.

You feel your throat tighten you burst into tears. You keep your jaw clenched and bite your tongue to avoid your sobs to be hearable. Just one partner.. And I'll end up having to fuck them? You shift your body, so you looked out the window. What if I don't want to fuck them? What if I just want to be with them? Like a forever sleepover, but with so much more inside jokes. And they won't ignore me being nonbinary because they would care, truly. 

Your mouth would twitch and quiver. You would scrunch up, going into the fetal position and you would cry. Silently, but you would cry. It would seem like forever, but in reality it was only minutes before you sat up in your bed(avoiding to hit your head on the ceiling), and wiped off your tears. You got off your bed, wandering to the bathroom. 

You would close the door and your eyes. You turned on the light, and waited a few seconds before opening your eyes adjusting them to the light. You stared at the mirror in front of you. Your cheeks were chubby, baby like and feminine. Your hair was long, put into two braids. And even wearing two sports bras, your breasts were noticeable, more so when you turned to look at yourself side profile style.

You quickly changed that, deciding forward view was better. Until you saw your curves of course. You weren't fat, you weren't skinny. You were average, but all because your father's dick decided "Hey let's have a chick", with your mom, and the roll of the dice said so, you looked like those cliche anime girls. With those big fine curves- and you loved them- but not on you. On you, you wanted to throw up, you wanted to vomit.

You wanted the body of your average anime boy, with short curly messy hair. You wanted femininity, but not like this. You wanted it like the boys did. And the fact that you couldn't, destroyed you. 

Without thinking you looked at the cabinet next to you. It's sharp wooden edge. You gulp, feeling your throat tighten and more tears threatening to spill over. You clenched your jaw, before softly hitting your head on that corner. Oh come on, if you're gonna do this at least mean it whore. You thought to yourself with a rageful expression. You grabbed onto the cabinet and applied force to your feet, pushing your head into the corner.

You pulled back, and did it again, but harder. Why couldn't you just be that girl with the straight A's, Wendy? You felt a sob take ahold of your chest as you hit your head against the edge of the cabinet. How can they not hear me? You thought to yourself. You remembered your mother's comments, basically telling you to shut up, your father leaving you and your sister behind for a new woman, with new kids. You remembered Vi and Kazie and how Vi told you Kazie killed themself because of you.

You continued to hit your head, deciding to keep it quiet not to wake them. They wouldn't like you bothering their wonderful dreams, and you remembered your sister telling you to go to hell. You remembered your mother's boyfriend's comment on teenagers and them being poly. You pulled away from the cabinet, falling onto the ground in tears. 

You remembered all of your partners insulting you. You remembered that girl in fifth grade you choked you because you decided to kick her friend when they tried to do the same to your one and only friend. Your hands went to your head, fingers weaving through your thick long hair before tightly pulling. You kept that hold. You remembered when your first, and only, real life boyfriend hid under the bushes with you before hitting you in the stomach. You felt your breath get heavy, and short, you saw tears coming off of your cheek every second.

You started thinking of the smaller things, the ones where your mother giving you the obvious hints your grades must be perfect. That you must be the perfect older sister. A role model, and thus, must do nothing wrong. It hit you then, that they truly didn't care. They just want someone to vent to, to use to go outside to run errands, to control. You inhaled sharply, standing up. You turned on the faucet, putting your hands underneath the water.

With sudden calm, you splashed the water onto your face. Over and over- you turned the faucet off, and brushed your hair. You used the toilet, and then left the bathroom. You went into your room and grabbed your art bag. Glancing at your shelf with your books, you decided to empty out your school bag and fill it up with your personal favorites.

You put that on, and filled the rest of your art bag with five pairs of clothes. You set that down for a moment to put on shoes. With a deep breath you would leave your room, for the last time, and headed into the living room. No one was there, it was quiet and empty. You saw your phone and charger, and grabbed it, shoving it into your art bag.

Inhaling deeply you looked at the door, the entrance and exit to your house. You used it as an exit. You walked off your porch, off the sidewalk, and off your neighborhood road. 

Knowing you were safe, having this large headstart, you grabbed your phones heading to your contacts. You messaged the group chat of five people(including you), wishing them the best of luck, love and success in life. You left the group chat, and leaning against the trees, you deleted everything off of your phone, save for a few pictures. 

You headed the shady part of town, looking around. The people ruling this area looked at you, confused. A young girl in a t-shirt, night shorts and weird stuff in her hair? They walked away, weary. You ignored them, as people avoided your words.

"Hey." You say, catching the attention of one of them. "If I give you this phone," You held up your phone. "How much would you give me?" He scoffed at you. You kept that cool calm face even your friends found unsettling. 

"Er-" He paused, unsure. "Depends. How old is it?" You answered all of his questions, and when he asked if it was stolen, you gave him a look. Basically calling him an idiot- after all, couldn't he notice the anime phone case? You told him the password, and when he typed it in, he finally believed you. He gave you two hundred dollars, all in twenties. You didn't complain. You thanked him and left.