The footsteps recede.
And then, I am alone. At last.
I open an eye, and then the other. I am lying stiff on the tiled floor. I push myself up into a sitting position. Look around. They have made this place a total mess: taps overflowing; tiles wet and dirty; mirror cracked. They all left hastily, I remember, when they heard the familiar creaking of Master’s footsteps. Despite myself and the situation, I laugh. Saved by Master himself... the irony was so thick!
I try to get up, but a wave of dizziness floods me. I slump back onto the floor.
And then the memories of my near-past roll in. Like flash cards; in my vision the first second, and gone the next.
Voices.
Loud, shouting, but at the same time, muted and far-away.
Taunting. Haunting.
“Who’s the girl?”
The shoving began.
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
I am pushed against the mirror. It cracks- well, something does.
“Oh, wait... I forgot... There’s no girl- ’coz it’s a GUY!”
And then the footsteps. Unmistakable creaking footsteps.
And then.... silence.
Alone. All alone.
I put my hand to my head. It comes away red. But I don’t care. I get onto my feet. Dizziness. The world blacks out. I am blinded. Then I see again.
I grip onto the side of the sink hard. The marble is cold under my hand, but I hold on tight.
They had got it wrong, all wrong!
I grip onto the sink, and look at the cracked mirror.
They just don’t understand. It isn’t gayness....
I look at my reflection...
But, how can I blame them? Even I don’t properly understand myself...
A wave of dizziness. The world goes out of focus. Then it clears again.
I look into the image of my eyes.
They got it wrong, because there is no ‘other’ guy. There’s just...
...you.
