Work Text:
I’m not suicidal. I know that’s what they’ve probably told you, but I’m not. I’m sure they also told you that the brain injury from the fall is the reason I can’t remember the last 10 years of my life, but I remember the ledge. I do. I swear it on my mama—and I know they’ve told you she’s dead now, but
I
don’t
remember
that.
Me and my little brother, we were playing with trains. The little toy ones, obviously. We had some tracks that we would set up. I would never let anyone else play with us—the ladies at the day care didn’t like that, but the other kids would always do it wrong. We liked it set up one way every single time; it was the correct way.
I was climbing up on the table to scare some child away, but when I turned back to my brother… well, he wasn’t there.
There wasn’t
Anything.
there.
It was open and blue, maybe white, maybe grey. Color doesn’t quite sum it up. It was thick, it was deep, it was eternal.
Except for me.
And the cold stone behind me…
It didn’t take me long to figure out I was on a ledge. It took me a little longer to figure out exactly how wrong that was. They’ve probably told you about my whole ass adult life and career before this, but the only shit they told me is that I had one. The only reason I believed them was because I don’t Feel like a kid anymore.
I also don’t Feel like myself.
The thing that tipped me off to the fact that something was desperately wrong was actually the body. I’ve tits now. I’m not supposed to. Now before you tell me, ‘Adelade, you and every other girl has them, that’s part of puberty,’ the way the last therapist they sent me to did, you should know my name is Nick, I don’t care what my driver’s license says. I’ve always been Nick. It’s written on my birth certificate.
Oh, except that they can’t find my birth certificate.
Not for Adelade Whinnock or for Nickilous Heckler.
They also can’t find my brother, if they cared to really look.
So that’s great.
I did jump off the ledge. I won’t deny that part. And maybe I am suicidal because the last few weeks, I’ve been wishing I didn’t survive it, but I didn’t jump because I wanted to die. I jumped because I was there for days. I swear on my dead mama, days. I decided I had better chances surviving a fall than eternal dehydration.
So, I jumped.
And now I’m here.