Chrysalis Days & Butterfly Nights [Wattys 2023 Shortlist]

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[TW: Foul language from the outset and throughout. Depictions of assault (sexual and physical). Use of homophobic, transphobic and misogynist slurs.]

Part 1 - Pupa

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In the night air, the kiss of the smooth metal of the car bonnet felt cold against Luke's skin. Droplets of water from the recent rain spotted the metal, the colour indistinct in the light given off by the overhead street lamp. Blood trailed from his nose, collecting with the rain droplets and creating a little stream that flowed away.

Two pairs of hands gripped his wrists, holding him down. Forcing him down as the third pair of hands pushed his body and head against the car. One hand gripped his wig, ripping it from his head, and then slammed him back against the bonnet. He wasn't weak, wasn't feeble, but he couldn't find the strength to fight.

They laughed. Cruel, pitiless laughter as the one behind kicked his feet apart, a hand reaching up, under his skirt, and tearing at the new pair of tights he had bought only that morning. A morning that had felt filled with a promise of something new. Something right. Nothing felt right in this moment. Luke heard a sad whimper, to the side, and tried to lift his head to see if Toby was alright, only for that hand upon his head to slam him, once again, onto the car bonnet.

"Please." Lights flashed in front of his eyes as he tried to push away the pain. Tried to struggle free. "Please don't do this."

"You want to be a woman." Fetid breath touched his ear as the one behind leaned down. Smoker's breath. "I'll treat you like a woman. Relax. You'll probably enjoy it."

No. No! The new underwear, bought alongside the tights, ripped, tearing, exposing his buttocks to the cold of the night. Then he heard a belt unfastening. A zip becoming pulled down and Luke felt the edges of each one of the zip's teeth scrape against his skin. Then he felt something else. Something both soft and hard and Luke wished he had never listened to those thoughts that had whispered to him for years.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Another voice, now, coming from elsewhere. "I suggest you walk the fuck away, right now!"

"You wait your turn, bitch." More laughter, but at least the horror of what was about to happen subsided. If only for a second. "You walk away, before you get some, too."

"I don't fucking think so." The voice was nearer, now, and the hands holding Luke's wrists fell away. "Which one of you cunts wants it first?"

All the hands left Luke, now, but he stayed spread against the bonnet of the car. He couldn't let anyone else see him. Not like this. Not like any of it. As the sounds of scuffling reached his ears, the crack of fists upon faces, howls of pain and more cursing reached Luke's ears, all he could think about were the swirls of scratches he could see in the paintwork of the car. Unnoticeable from a distance, but so clear here. Circles upon circles from far too vigorous washing and waxing.

His legs trembled and, without thinking, he reached back to pull up his underwear. The sounds of fighting came to an end followed by the sound of feet running along rain-soaked gravel. As another pair of hands touched him, Luke's legs finally gave way, folding him toward the ground, but someone held him upright. Someone with far more gentle hands than those who attacked him. They turned him around, allowing him to sit against the car.

"Look at you. You're a mess, darling." A finger traced the edge of Luke's eye, a feather-like touch against the bruise already swelling. "Let's get you back in your drab and get you to a hospital."