After about a week of bedrest, I could stand on my own two feet without wanting to throw up. The second week, I could even reach my arms above my head and stretch without a metaphorical Sword of Damocles over my head in the form of my stomach threatening to re-rupture at any moment. And the moment my diet could expand beyond soup, bread, and cheese, I felt like the world of delicacies was finally at my fingertips once again.

“Aven,” Max chastised, putting a hand on my arm. “I know you hold enthusiasm for being able to eat solid foods again, but have a bit of caution or concern for your body.”

“Max, I don’t think you could begin to know what it’s like dieting like I had to,” I said, taking a nice chomp out of a carrot. “And I’m the one who’s had their stomach split open and sewn back together, so for God’s sake, let me indulge.”

“Someone’s moody,” she mumbled.

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” I asked with a frown. “You’ve been acting like I’m made of glass ever since I got here.”

“Aven, hun, you came here with your stomach ripped open. Of course I’m going to be scared you might hurt yourself again!”

“Alright, but-”

“There’s nothing else to say ‘but’ about. Just because you’re up and able doesn’t mean you’re fine and dandy,” she said, folding her arms and looking away. “I mean… I can’t believe you actually died because of…”

“Before you start even thinking about blaming yourself, it’s not your fault,” I frowned, putting my food down. 

“I know, I know. I blame that slithering bitch too,” Max clarified. “Let’s talk about something else. Maybe when you’re well again, you can make candy for us!”

“That makes me think… Where did all the food come from?” I curiously asked. “There’s no farms here, right? So… what made all this?”

“Huh… You know… I have no idea,” she shrugged. “I’ve never asked how some of these things were made. Maybe I can strike up a chat with Lucas about it later.”

“I guess…” I sighed, looking out the window. The same baby blue sky that I remembered when I was alive. Was it the same sky? Or was it an imitation trying to convince us it’s the same? It was times like that where I wished I had thought a bit more about what would happen after I died. Maybe it would’ve prepared me to just accept when it happened.

“Something on your mind?”

“I just wonder why I’m the exception,” I confessed. “I just feel like I was sent here with no real purpose. I keep asking myself why I was sent here. There has to be a reason, right?”

“Er, yeah,” Max uncomfortably nodded. “Maybe your purpose is to just be here with us. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“You wouldn’t hide anything from me if you knew, right, Max?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. 

“N-No! Honest!”

“Alright…”

I knew better than to believe her though. Max was a lot of things, but normally a liar wasn’t one of them to me. But what was she so worked up about, and why wouldn’t she share it? I wouldn’t know. I’m not exactly a mind reader. Yet.

*   *   *   *   *

“What’s that?” I asked, coming downstairs one morning. Max was already awake and reading a huge volume on the table. It was so large that I assumed it had to be some kind of atlas or encyclopedia.

“A book that Lucas gave me,” she said, flipping through the pages. “It has a list of mental disorders that us reps and bosses deal with.”

“Oh, cool,” I shrugged. It wasn’t much of my business, and I wasn’t too into any of this ‘psychology’ science anyway. “Anything interesting?”

“Well… Here’s something,” Max said, pointing to a page in the book. I leaned over her shoulder to take a look at the handwritten notes. “Binge Eating Disorder.”

“Binge… eating?” I asked curiously.

“It looks like it’s associated with episodes of eating a large excess amount of food when under emotional distress or vulnerability,” she said, giving me a glance. “Sounds familiar.”

“So that’s what my problem is…” I mumbled. It felt good to be able to assign a name to my issue. Not that it gave me any clue on how to deal with it. One step at a time, I suppose. Chew the food you can fit in your mouth and all.

“Speaking of food, it’s time for breakfast!” Max cheered, slamming the book closed and making the table rock. “Eggs and toast sound good?”

“Yep,” I nodded, sitting in front of the massive book as Max got up. You honestly could have killed someone with how bulging the binding was.

“Good, because that’s all I’ve got for breakfast,” she chuckled.

“Can I look through this?” I asked, tracing my finger along the cover. I was so curious about what else might’ve been in there.

“Be my guest.”

While Max leaned over the stove, working away at breakfast, I flipped through the book. I saw such odd things littered throughout… Disorders about hurting oneself, seeing things that aren’t there, multiple people trapped in one body… I could hardly believe that there were real people with these ailments! Lucas had written detailed descriptions and symptoms of them all, and even some treatment options were listed under a few. Was this the culmination of all the research that Lucas did on me and the others?

While sifting through a sea of words, my eyes fell on one particular page, bookmarked by a bent corner. One that had Gender Identity Disorder in fancy cursive letters at the top. At first, I read it on a whim because I thought the title was one of those odd names that caught your eye, like schizophrenia or gastrointestinal. When I started to read further into it though… Things started to click together. I read on and on about this documented disorder that could be simplified to: a man or woman whose physical body didn’t line up with their internal gender identity. He wrote about the possibility of multiple disorders being able to be grouped under the umbrella term, but the only data he’s had to go off of is… one person. Me.

“Find anything interesting?” Max finally asked, sliding a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me.

“Something called dysphoria in here,” I said, pointing to the word in the middle of the page. “It’s one of the bookmarked ones.”

“Describes feelings of unease and discomfort about being in my own skin and identifying with how you are at birth. Can come with the belonging to be something or someone completely different.”

“Huh… Like you wanting to be, you know…”

“Yeah,” I nodded, suddenly looking back down. I thought maybe there could be some kind of cure, since there were so many listed with possible treatments, but… nothing. I was just met with a big no known treatment at this time instead. “It just doesn’t list any cure or treatment possability…”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” Max insisted, shutting the book and taking it away. “That’s just for now. Who knows if we’ll find some way in the future?”

“That’s… That’s true,” I admitted, dejectedly shrugging and picking up my fork. If Lucas didn’t know what to do with me, and I was one of a kind for all we knew, I didn’t see too much hope.

“Keep hopeful, c’mon,” she insisted, poking my arm.

“Fine, fine,” I begrudgingly smiled, rolling my eyes. “We’ll find a way some day.”

“That’s my girl!” she smirked, digging into her food. I politely did the same.

“Maybe science will find a way to make me fully female someday,” I shrugged. It sounded like a pipe dream, but you never know. “That would be the dream…”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t,” Max rolled her eyes. “Menstruating is absolute hell.”

“I wish my body could do that,” I yawned, staring out the window. “To be a woman…”

“What-” Max snorted as a piece of egg flew out her mouth, making me jump in my seat. “I’ve never heard anyone want a period before-”

“Sue me,” I sighed, munching on a piece of toast. 

For all that Max supported me, I didn’t expect her to understand. Why would she? She’s a woman who’s known nothing but being a woman all her life. She wouldn’t know what it feels like to look at half of the population and wishing you had what they’ve always been blissfully unappreciative of. Being asked why you would want to throw away your status or privilege just to be something they say you were never meant to be… No, why would she know? How could I ever make her understand?

“Slow down,” Max sternly said, stabbing her fork into an egg on my plate, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed that my mouth was bulging full, and I almost just tried to put more in there! “Your stomach’s still sensitive.”

“S-Sorry…” I stammered, sitting back in my chair and chewing. It reminded me of those Hawthorne family dinners I got invited to, which sparked me to admit the one thing that had been on my mind. “You know, I’m only scared of one thing now.”

“What’s that?”

“That we’re gonna live a good life here, then Beatrice is going to show up and ruin it all again just for fun,” I told her. After all, if everyone else who worked in Lucas’ lab and died has ended up here… Well, that doesn’t bode well.

“No way that snake bitch is showing up,” she promised, holding my hand. “Beatrice is definitely going straight to Hell. No questions asked.”

“There’s always the question of ‘what if’ though,” I pointed out.

“I barely consider it a possibility,” Max insisted. “The Devil’s got a place for her down there. I know that for sure.”

“I thought you said she was The Devil though. Remember all those times you told me she had to be the Antichrist? 

“And I still stand by that until proven otherwise,” she said, folding her arms. “As far as I’m concerned, going to Hell is just going home for her.”

“Maybe she could turn a new leaf,” I suggested. “If she dies a harrowing death, maybe it could scare or scar her into being a better person.”

“Leave the twisted suggestions to me,” she joked, earning a giggled out of me.

*   *   *   *   *

“Max…” I moaned from my bedroom, clutching my stomach. “Max… Why does my stomach ache so bad again…?”

“I’ve got Lucas here to help,” she said, guiding the stone-faced man into the room and gesturing to me. “Can you help her?”

“What do you want me to do about her?” he asked, confused. 

“What do you think? Help her! Make her pain stop!”

“If I don’t know what’s wrong, it’s pretty hard to help her, isn’t it?” he asked, bending on one knee and running his hand over my stomach. “I could open her up again and see if-”

“No!” I cried out, swatting his hand away. “No more surgeries!”

“You heard it from her,” he shrugged, holding out his hand, which glowed a silvery-white. “The only other alternative I can offer is using my magic to heal what I can.”

“I’m fine with that,” I decided in less than a second. “Just do what you have to.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Max frowned. “We don’t know what could happen! You could… accidentally heal something wrong, and then before you know it, Aven has three hearts or two livers!”

“Max… just let him do it,” I asked, almost begging. “Believe me, I know why you’re protective of me, but I’m in so much pain, I wish I could die again.”

“I…” Defeatedly, she looked between Lucas and I before holding her arms and begrudgingly giving way to my demands. “Fine, but I warned you.”

“It’ll be alright,” the man reassured, kneeling back down. “I’ve had a bit more practice, and I’ve had time to get a look at Aven inside and out now. I know what I’m doing.”

“When you say it like that… it sounds rather like a violation of my privacy,” I admitted.

“It comes with the job of doing surgery. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Lucas gently set his hand on my stomach, and for just a few moments, his hand glowed, and I felt another painfully red-hot burning sensation in my gut, making me wish I could just rip out my insides and be over with it all. When he lifted his hand though, the pain in my stomach had completely eased, though my surgery scar was still there.

“Wow… Can you use magic to replace parts of me?”

“Sorry, I don’t know any way to do that one,” he shook his head. “And I’m afraid it would be a much more complicated surgery than just switching out parts.”

“It was worth an ask,” I sighed, leaning my head back.

“If she has any more intense stomach pains, just tell me,” he said, lowering his voice. “And bring her in if you notice any… small or medium sized lumps or bulges in her midsection or back.”

“I heard that,” I frowned. “Why are we worried about lumps in my back and stomach?”

“Just a precaution. Nothing much to worry about,” Lucas said calmly. “Unless something does happen which demands surgical attention.”

“You’re not doing an especially stellar job of reassuring me.”

“Take care. I hope to see you on your feet soon,” he said with a small smirk before disappearing in a flash of light.

“He’s just trying to scare you,” Max said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…”

“Something wrong?” she asked, sitting at the foot of my bed.

“It’s just a bit of cabin fever,” I admitted. “Being kept confined to my bed and the house so much isn’t serving well to my state of mind.”

“I’ve got an offer for you then,” Max sweetly smiled. “If you’re feeling well this evening and tomorrow morning, I’ll take you to work. Then you can get out of the house and see everyone.”

“Really?!” I asked, my face lighting up. Max giggled and nodded her head. I leapt forward and enveloped her in a hug, making us both madly laugh as Max tried to push me off of her with no avail. “Thank you so much!”

“Calm down, calm down,” she chuckled, giving me one last close hug before prying my hands off from around her. “You’ve got to promise to be good and not poke around everywhere. The place I work at is still figuring out how to run, and Lucas doesn’t want anyone disrupting progress.”

“I promise I’ll be good. I’m just ready to get out of this stuffy house and see what my afterlife really has to offer!”