Short Stories

Lilly

TW: this story contains mentions of self harm, transphobia, and mistreatment of patients in mental health facilities. If you do not want to read this I suggest you move to the next chapter.

    There are 102 ceiling tiles. Each tile has an average of 1,230 dots on their surface. The walls that surround me were plain white. But I could see imperfections and scuff marks from the people who previously went insane in this very room. I felt myself gravitate towards them. These blemishes told me more about this room than everything else around me. The floor was almost as telling. The only thing that differentiated the floor from the walls was that I knew the floor was not to be trusted. I heard it taunt me at night.
"Leon, Leon is your real name."
"Leon Leon Leon."
"You aren't a woman."
"You will never be a woman."
When the lights went out, I could no longer see the details in the room. I had nothing to count, nothing to think about but my own demise. With the darkness, my thoughts turned into stampedes in slow motion. Like elephants they crushed my delicate body. It didn't make sense. Mama said words couldn't hurt me. No matter how loud they were shouted. How come it felt like my bones were being broken? How come I felt like my windpipe was crushed and my lungs had popped under the preusser? I felt as though I couldn't breathe.
So instead I focused on the clock. The slow ticking of the seconds as they turned into minutes and the minutes as they turned into hours. How long have the lights been out? As if my sanity hadn't already been spread to its limits. With each tick of the clock I felt the last shreds of it slip away into oblivion. And I knew I was soon to follow.
Dr. Silvia's office was kept very neat. Everything has its own spot. Virtually nothing was ever out of place. But today, a metal letter opener sat off to the side. It looked old; but not too old. It was gold, most likely fake because I could see it start to tarnish on the handle. Possibly a family heirloom. There was a small inscription of the initials D.E.R. on the handle. My thoughts started to tangle. I was like a spider and at the same time it's prey. I was weaving the web, setting up the trap knowing that enevenibly I would only get stuck. But today, something was different.
"Leon?" Dr. Silvia's smooth voice flooded my ears. But instead of bringing me comfort like silk, it stirred something inside of me. Something that I could not quite describe as fear, but was somehow related.
"My name is Lilly." I say it in a voice that was barely audible, but I know she heard me.
"Leon, you are living in a delusion." I knew her words were aimed to cut. They were sharp on her tongue. But for some reason, they did not cut as deep as she intended them to. This was only a flesh wound.
"My name is Lilly." This time my voice has grown. I am the spider, weaving a web, but my prey has gained strength.
"Your name is-" I stood up suddenly. The uncomfortable plastic chair I sat in slid back.
"Lilly. My name is Lilly Pelle. I am a woman." My voice was much louder. I am the spider. Dr. Silvia is a fly. She is struggling to get free of my newfound confidence.
She banged her fist on her desk.
"You are living a delusion Leon! You may think you are a woman. You may decide to dwell in this facade. But I know what you truly are. You are a disgusting, vile creature." She is the fly struggling in my web.
"I believe you are the one trapped in a mirage. You have been walking for so long in the desert, you have forgotten the feeling of rain. It has hardened you. I fear it is not me who is disgusting." I reach for the letter opener. I was approaching the fly. About to have my grand feast. Seeing the letter opener in my hand, she lept for safety. But it was not her life I was looking for. I lowered myself onto my knees.
"My name is Lilly. And I am free."