“Adam, boy!” hollered Dad one fine morning. “Get your ass down here now!”

Isn’t that just a wonderful wake-up? Wouldn’t you like to wake up to pure anger and disappointment aimed towards you? Welcome to my life. On top of that, my body was hating last night’s binge, so I already wasn’t in a great mindset. I rolled out of bed and slumped downstairs to face whatever punishment that Dad had for my existence.

“Mind telling me where my lunch is?” he asked, gritting his teeth. “It seems to have disappeared overnight.”

Uh on, I ran out of my own food to binge on and had to eat into our dinner leftovers and Dad’s lunch… Yeah, I wasn’t thinking, obviously. But that’s what binging does. You don’t care who the food belongs to and you don’t think about the fallout it’s going to bring. It’s all about what’s there right then. This also wasn’t the first time Mum or Dad asked me about missing food. Mice or rats can only be blamed so many times.

“Perhaps you misplaced it,” I lied. Wrong move. Dad grabbed me by the collar and actually lifted me off of the ground, scaring the shit out of me.

“Don’t play games with me, boy,” Dad snarled. “I’m not in the mood for it. I’ve just about had enough of your lies and attitude.”

“Ugh, let me go!” I demanded, struggling against him.

“If I so much as get a millimeter of attitude out of you from now on, I’ll throw you out of the house myself by hand.”

“I get it!” I groaned, breaking free of his grip. He looked down at me with that disgusted glare. I knew what he was thinking. He only got that look when he was thinking about how he wished I could’ve been half of the son he wanted.

“Maybe we should charge you rent,” he mumbled. “When I get home, you’d better change everything. No more attitude, no more games.”

Dad turned his back, grabbed his coat and toolbox, angrily marched out the door, and slammed it behind him. I picked myself off of the floor just as Mum came into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“Dad and I were having a friendly chat,” I sighed. “I just wish he wasn’t so angry all the time about everything…”

“You know it’s not your fault, dear,” Mum consoled.

“It doesn’t make me feel any better though.”

“One day you’ll be able to show all of them how beautiful you are, and you won’t have to endure the hardships any longer,” she insisted. “Maybe sometime, we can find you a man to marry.”

“Stop joking, Mum,” I rolled my eyes. “No man’s going to be fooled by me.”

“Then be genuine,” she suggested. “Don’t hide it.”

“No thanks,” I laughed. “I’d rather be alone than in an asylum. Now, I have to go get ready for work. Maybe today can actually be a good one.”

*   *   *   *   *

“Mrs. Lada, can I take a break?” I asked, putting my back against one of the shelves. Business had been abysmal and hardly anyone had come in all day.

“If no one walks in within five minutes,” she said back. “I’m going to go get more ingredients for candy. We just ran out of sugar. I don’t want to come back and see you slouching when a customer comes in, or every lost sale is out of your pay!”

“Understood, Mrs. Lada,” I sighed, hearing her go out the back door. With my luck, we’d get a sudden business rush out of nowhere. It was like the universe was trying to spite me when I heard the familiar bell ring from a customer opening the door.

“Here we are!”

Angel and Beatrice Hawthorne strolled into the shop, looking as polar opposite as ever. If I hadn't known, I never would’ve guessed that they were sisters. As soon as Beatrice laid eyes on me though, I could tell her mind was churning to think of the rudest comment humanly possible.

“You!” she howled with a witch-like smile. “You’re the boy from last time!”

“Uh… yeah,” I mumbled with a nod. My day just keeps getting better and better. “Can I help you?”

“Getting out of my face would be a good start,” she scoffed, shooing me away and raising her voice. “Can someone who doesn’t look like they’ve been stuffing their face all year come and help me? Well, my sister actually. I obviously don’t eat candy, but you get the point.”

“Beatrice!” Angel cried out. “This young man was kind enough to offer help and that’s how you treat him? That’s out of character, even for you!”

Out of character? Has Angel ever seen her sister interact with anyone? I’d be more scared if she was acting nice to me, honestly. Mean and spiteful is just the Beatrice Hawthorne image, but I guess Angel had to be a supportive sister and tell her how great she is.

“Well, look at him,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, still staring daggers at me. “He’s obviously a tranny. Either that or a faggot. The hair gives it away.”

Ouch. I mean, she was right on the mark, but ouch. Beatrice knew just what to say to get under anyone’s skin, and she definitely had an eye for insecurity. Fortunately for me though, that comment definitely didn’t jive with Angel.

“One more word out of you and I’ll make sure Mum and Dad don’t pay for that maid of yours,” she threatened.

Beatrice balled her fists and clenched her teeth as her snake coiled around her shoulders. Oh no, not the maid. Thank goodness they weren’t threatening to take the authentic silverware that she probably owns and never uses. The threat was enough to shut her up though, which I was immeasurably thankful for.

“Now, could you show me to the peppermints, sir?” Angel politely asked.

Angel threaded her arm through mine and turned her back to Beatrice. I kept an eye on the snake woman as she pretended to look at the candy lining the shelves. No way I was going to let her sneak up on me again.

“I’m sorry for my sister,” she apologized. “Deep down, she really wants to be a good person, I promise.”

“It’s alright…” I sighed. She wanted to be a good person? You could’ve fooled me. “Here’s those peppermints you wanted.”

“Thanks,” Angel giggled, holding one out to me. “Here, you deserve one after what you’ve had to put up with.”

“Oh, no, I can’t,” I insisted. “I already take enough from the shop after hours-”

“Come on, not even one?”

The candy did look tantalizing, so I decided to let myself have just one. After all, a single candy never hurt anyone, right? I put the peppermint into my mouth, and we both giggled. Before I could feel too much genuine joy in my life, my stomach started to feel strange. The candy in my mouth started to taste sickly sweet, and I wanted to just spit it out. And only then did my entire stomach want to eject itself.

“Are… Are you alright?” Angel asked.

“I… I need some air-”

My head pounded and the world blurred before I just vomited on the floor. Beatrice and Angel both jumped back and let out a scream as I kneeled over. My vision was spinning, fueling a skull-crushing headache that had flared up. The only thing I could think of was how Mrs. Lada was going to have to close shop for the day and make me clean the floor. While Angel generously came to my side, Beatrice let out a wicked screech.

“You absolute pig!! How dare you let your grossness splatter on my beautiful dress!! This dress is more expensive than all your belongings put together!”

“Oh shush,” Angel said, rolling her eyes and helping me up. 

Of course Beatrice would watch someone become sick and still make it about her. Honestly, I couldn’t see what she was talking about, since her black dress was still spotless. I swear even her snake was giving her a glance like she was being a drama queen.

“You’re imagining things. Nothing got on your dress.”

“Why’re you helping him?!” she scoffed, giving me that signature look of superiority.

“Because unlike you, I have a heart,” Angel shot back. “If it bothers you so much, then step outside and wait for me there!”

I was kind of taken aback by her outburst. Angel was known as the gentle Hawthorne, so hearing her sling around that kind of line meant that she must’ve been at the end of her rope. Something I didn’t think was possible. Instead of taking a step back to evaluate her actions like a rational human being, Beatrice just shot the most deadly glare at me that started to make my stomach turn a second time.

“Listen here, tranny,” she hissed. “I WILL have you fired for this, so don’t expect to hold onto your pathetic job for much longer!”

Beatrice stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind her. I could only assume that she was going to leave a trail of footprints embedded in the road all the way home from how pissed she looked.

“I’m sorry about her,” Angel sighed. “She’s… She’s trying, believe it or not. Can I help you clean up or-”

“I’ll… I’ll be fine…” I mumbled, stumbling against the counter. “I’ve just got to close the shop to clean the floor.”

“I’ll get the sign,” she said, turning it over in the window. “I’ll help with whatever you might need, sir. You did get sick from the peppermint I gave you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I’ve been feeling ill today anyway. It was likely only a matter of time until something triggered my sickness.”

“Surely there’s something I can do to help though-”

“Adam, what is that God forsaken smell?” complained Mrs. Lada, coming through the back door. “If you let mold grow on the candy again, I swear I’ll- Sweet Jesus!”

“I’ll clean up the mess, Mrs. Lada,” I promised. “Sorry I ruined the shop… I-I’ll clean it all up right now and-”

“Adam, just… I… Just go home for the day,” she sighed, her eyes weary and tired. “I’ll clean up your mess here.”

“Mrs. Lada, I can-”

“Go home,” she leered, turning to Angel. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hawthorne, but you need to leave for the day. You can come back tomorrow when we’re open again.”

“Before I go, you should know it wasn’t his fault,” the Hawthorne sister added just before she helped me out the door as a last sign of grace. It’s sad when a customer cares more about me than my own father.

*   *   *   *   *

When I got to the shop the next morning, Mrs. Lada was waiting in the back of the store, pensively swaying back and forth in her rocking chair. She gave me a really sad and disappointed look.

“Mrs. Lada, I-”

“Adam,” she interrupted calmly. “Give me your key.”

“Wh-” I was completely taken aback. “Mrs. Lada, if this was about yesterday, I’ll do anything to make up-”

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “I’m sorry Adam, but I have to let you go for good. As of right now, you’re fired. Go home and tell Matilda I said hello and… I’m sorry.”

“Is there really nothing I can do?” I asked, pleading.

“No…” she said painfully, shaking her head. “Hand your key in and I’ll give you one last pay before sending you home. I really am sorry, Adam.”

*   *   *   *   *

After getting fired from work with zero explanation, I was sent out of the shop with a rather large sum of money. Far more than I thought Mrs. Lada would ever normally be comfortable giving me… But why?

Of course, I didn’t take it well at all. What did I do with the plentiful money that my boss had sent me off with? I went around buying as much food as I could carry and ate it in a corner of the city where nobody would bother me. The people who did see me just averted their eyes as they watched me binge eat and get sick in an alleyway. They probably thought I was some gross drunk guy wasting his life away…

When I eventually did go home, I was staggering and trying not to throw up again. It was just after evening had fallen when I slumped through the door and got a worried yelp from Mum. She tried to get my attention, but I just wasn’t all there.

“Honey, talk to me!” Mum demanded, grabbing my shoulders. “What’s wrong?!”

“Mrs. Lada… fired me…” I mumbled. “Dad’s going to kill me… I’m going to grab my dress and go out. I need some time alone to think….”

“Just calm down and stay with me,” she begged. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’ll be fine,” I sighed, pushing past her and into my room.

That was when I crossed into my lowest point. My dress seemed heavier and tighter since I had last put it on. To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Being fired was just my tipping point. I hated myself and the world I lived in. And it seemed like everyone had an innate hate towards me for just existing. As I looked out my window into the growing blackness of the New York streets, part of me hoped some terrible accident would happen if I went out as a woman. That maybe some serial killer would consider me easy prey. Or that a horse and carriage wouldn’t see me in the evening shade. It’s not like I had many people who would actually miss me…

I looked at myself in the mirror after putting on my outfit. I had to wonder, was I just faking all of this? Was I just crazy? Was I a black sheep trying to look like a regular one? Or the other way around…? I didn’t know what I was. I walked downstairs, ready to possibly disappear into the night forever, when I came face-to-face with the worst possible scenario that had gone through my head dozens of times at night. Dad and I locked eyes, taking in the full extent of emotions he was going through towards his son in a dress. First surprise, then confusion, then pure, unfiltered anger.

“What the Hell is this?!” he growled, shaking his fists.

“D-Dad, I c-can explain-”

“So this is what you’ve been doing behind my back?! Matilda just got done telling me how you were fired for being a lousy worker, and now you come down the stairs of my house dressed like that?!”

“Mark,” Mum butted in. “Just calm down and we can-”

“You knew about him doing this! I know you did!” Dad accused. “Don’t think that I haven’t heard about my wife and a young mystery lady going around the city! I’ll admit though, it never crossed my mind that the mystery woman would be my son!”

“She’s not your son!”

“She?!” he asked, his eyes raving and wild with rage. “SHE?! Matilda, have you been feeding Adam delusions that he’s a woman?!”

“She knows she’s a woman,” Mum said, standing her ground. “She knows it, and ever since she confessed it to me I’ve accepted her as my daughter-”

“IT’S NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU’RE AN EMBARRASSMENT TO MY NAME!” Dad howled, slamming his fist against the wall so hard the entire house wobbled. When he turned to me, all my body’s blood froze. “BUT YOU HAVE TO GO AROUND TOWN PRETENDING YOU’RE MY FUCKING DAUGHTER!”

“Mark, calm down,” Mum said, trying to grab his arm. “She was only-”

“DON’T YOU SAY ANYTHING EITHER!” he snarled, pushing her off of him. “YOU WANTED A DAUGHTER SO BADLY THAT YOU PUSHED OUR SON INTO DELUSION!”

“Mark, you’re-”

“ADAM IS NOT A WOMAN! HE NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL BE, NO MATTER HOW UPSET YOU ARE THAT YOU CAN’T GET A REAL DAUGHTER!”

My heart stopped as Dad reached for a hatchet. I took the opportunity to run right for the door. I darted right out, hearing his yells echo.

“GO ON, FUCKING RUN! EITHER SOMEONE WILL KILL YOU ON THE STREETS OR YOU’LL JUST DO IT TO YOURSELF! YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN NOW!”

I ran out into the night, sobbing my eyes out while I watched Dad wave a hatchet from our house’s doorway. I guess it wasn’t my home anymore… There was no way I could ever go back. I had crossed the river and burned the bridge. I was officially a homeless and helpless young woman on the streets of New York. Looking back, for how much I hated Dad in the moment, what he did would eventually push me into some of the best years of my entire living life.