Prodigal

~2.2~

Why did I have to be the one that’s transgender? I could be the one with the alcoholic mother, with the strange, not understood sexuality, but now I had to feel like I was a girl even though I was given a boy body?

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. Why do I have to go through this?

The mere thoughts alone terrified me. It was only very recently that I was able to even fully think about it in my mind. It still scared me to think about it. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. Not my closest cousin Sarah, not my best friend Gabbi, and especially not my father.

“Emmett, Emmett, over here!” A few 30 something sloppy looking guys with cameras were shouting at me. Sarah and I were literally just walking down the halls of the mall and there was paparazzi making a scene.

“Luke isn’t here.” I said to them, referring to Luke Hemmings, my father.

With that bit of information, the exerted energy of the three men suddenly died down a little, but they still followed us.

We ended up in another clothing store in the mall.

“Emmett.” Sarah said. “This would be perfect for you.”

It was a very masculine, yet I will admit, stylish outfit. It probably would look good on me, and I decided to get it. I hated wearing men’s clothes. It made me feel…ashamed. It made me feel dirty, inauthentic, fake.

This outfit looked really good. But it was for a boy. It would’ve looked really good on a boy. The problem is, I’m not one.

Even though literally everyone thinks I am.

“We reached 40,000 likes already.” Sarah said, pointing to her phone. There was a photo she posted on her Instagram of her and I at dinner, titled, “Girls Shopping Night.”

“We are so cute.” I said.

“We are goals.” She agreed.

We did a little more shopping, then decided it was time to leave and go home.

Notes

I hope all of y'all'ses days are going great! :)