There she lay again on the hardwood floor of her room. The sick twisted, masterpiece of scars and other damages that she called legs was tucked beneath her. She looked at her body in the mirror, as old familiar voices and harsh words haunted her once again. Unable to cry, she sat there feeling numb, wishing to feel something. As the time slipped by ever so slowly, she was kept in place seemingly against her will, locked eye to eye with the man she didn't want to be.
The voice of her mother broke her glare from the mirror.
"Joseph! It's dinner time!" Her mother yelled sounding in sweet tone.
She looked back at the mirror for a moment before getting up from the floor. Halfway up, Jane reached over and grabbed a pair of tight jeans. This had made her cringed in pain from the way they rubbed on her legs, but now she had gotten use to it. This had sadden Jane, making her feel broken.
She took a deep breath in before making her way down the stairs letting a single breath escape through her nose as she reached the bottom. She was greeted by the smiling face of her mother. Jane nearly had a sincere smile but the voices in her head reminded her that she was flawed. The smile that was forming turned into what others would call a frown. The saddest part was that, in her time of sorrow, her mother moved from the bottom of the stairs to the the table. Jane's mother smiled up at her warmly being oblivious to what Jane was feeling . With a sigh, Jane followed in her mother's footsteps.
Greeted by a big red bowl of steaming beef and potato stew, she sat down. Playing with her potatoes. until the unholy sound of her intoxicated father had rang in her ears. The door swung open slamming into the wall loudly. Its, chipped white paint chronicled a history of such abuse.
The monstrous smell of oil and cheap alcohol filled the room, causing Jane to get sick to her stomach. She bit the inside of her cheek and spoke softly between her clenched teeth. "Mom, I'm not feeling so hungry." Her mother nodded and let her excuse herself from the table. Once again in her room, she sat on her bed. All around her were things her father had gotten her for her 15th birthday. Two posters of models in bikinis and a single poster of a girl in short shorts and a blouse that would have shown her bra if she was not pressing her chest on a car. She didn't take the posters down because, if anything, the posters had been her only reason not to kill herself. Once she told a friend she had met on tumblr, "I can not die, because I would be buried as a man, not a woman." The disembodied voices started to get louder, screaming at her. All the cruel names rang up from the depths of her past.
"Faggot, get off the damn floor and fight like a man!" an old voice scream at her.
A broken child's voice cried out, "I'm not a man.."
The cries of the child in her past faded as a soft buzz came from her vibrating phone. She looked around. She searched for her phone, for what seemed like an eternity. Thinking that she had checked every nook and cranny of her room she collapsed on her bed. She laid there unmoving for a few moments before finding the position uncomfortable. Jane props herself up with her elbows when a buzz came from her pillow.
Now sitting up Jane takes her pillow and pulls it close and with one hand she find her 'beloved' cell phone. She had smiled half heartedly at the cracked screen. She unlocked it and looked to see if she was sent a message in her email.
Danny: Yo Jane u up?
Her heart started to race. Danny had been her online crush, He was perfect for her. In every way, from the light blue text to his horrible spelling that drove her nuts. Her smile widened and she replied.
