But I Swear You're Really Pretty, Part 5 (Patreon)

Eager to be seen

She used to be kind to me.

Mom and Dad never really cared for me. I was mostly alone, except for when my sister was nearby. She helped me with homework and always asked me if I had eaten and how I had slept. She helped me get the uniform right and combed my hair when I was a mess. She was only two years older but took much more responsibility for me than my parents.

Even though I was just a child, Mom and Dad would call me stupid and useless if I fell to the floor. They'd yell at me for being such a nuisance, but Rosalyn would ask me if I was okay, where it hurt, and helped me get on my feet again.

She had all my admiration, and I knew I wanted to be like her.

I stared at her door for the first time when I was around 8, but even then, I knew it was wrong. Perhaps there was something wrong with me. My soul would blame my body, but everything else seemed to point at my soul instead.

I wasn't supposed to feel that way; it was clear that I was alone.

I was swimming against the current, feeling as if I had to get somewhere up the river and that giving up would mean death for me.

Everyone would fight me when I didn't do what was expected of me. If I cried, I'd be yelled at. I'd be told I had to man up, that boys don't cry. Well, I didn't ask to be a boy. I had to hide my true colors, but Rosalyn would still let me be to an extent. Maybe I could tell her my truth if I was brave enough, but I felt so ashamed. After all, I've been told my whole life that this part of me shouldn't exist.

Things weren't better at school. I was called names, laughed at, and had to pretend just to survive. I started to wear a mask and to lose sight of who I was.

I just wanted to be like them. When I looked at girls, I dreamt of being like them. I envied their long hair, their cute shoes, their skirts, and the cute ribbons they wore on their hair.

Why do I have this feeling? Why does my heart ache when I look at the girls in my class? Others talk about butterflies in the stomach, but all I feel are knives to my chest.

Time passed, and one day, when I was 9, and no one was in the house, I stared at the door to my sister's room again. I turned the knob and went in.

Her room was cleaner and better organized than mine. I headed to her wardrobe and took a pink pleated skirt and a T-shirt with a glitter print. When I returned to my room, I hid the clothes beneath my mattress. That night, I wore them for the first time. I didn't have a mirror, but looking down and seeing a skirt on me made me so inexplicably happy. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to live a life where that'd be normal for me.

I kept the clothes under the mattress until my parents noticed a bump on my bed when looking for my sister's clothes. I took one of her favorite skirts, and she wanted to wear it. When I returned from school, they questioned me, but I had no answer for them. I knew it was wrong. I was ashamed. They called me names. I just stared at the floor with tears in my eyes, wondering how I could ask them to buy me my own skirts. Rosalyn intervened, telling them I was just playing games and that it was okay. She just asked me not to do it again, but I had already tasted a bit of freedom.

I tried to forget. I tried to live the life given to me, as much as I didn't want it. I told myself I would grow up and stop feeling that way. Someday, I would stop feeling envious of my sister. 

I would stop dreaming of a life I could never have anyway.

But I never did.

The pain didn't go away; it only grew bigger and bigger as I watched my female classmates starting to change in some ways while I was going in the opposite direction. At 11 years old, I began to feel like a monster. I didn't want to be seen nor heard. I wanted to disappear. I became desperate.

I stared at that door again. I crossed it again and looked for something Rosalyn didn't wear anymore, something she wouldn't mind if it was missing. I searched for a better place to hide the clothes, somewhere they wouldn't notice, but it only lasted a few weeks. They found her clothes in my room again, by pure accident.

Again, they yelled. "What is wrong with you?" I often asked myself the same question.

Rosalyn hesitated to intervene this time. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, looking disappointed.

The cycle repeated more times. I tried to stop, but I couldn't keep away for long. The desire to be seen as a girl, to see myself as a girl, burned me, and eventually, I went back to that room several times. It never ended well.

At 14, I wanted to wear the girl's school uniform. I took my older sister's and hid it, waiting for the night. 

It was 1:00 a.m., and I was alone in my room, trying not to make a sound so I wouldn't wake my family. I was barefoot, with hair barely long enough to cover a part of my forehead and ears. Nervous but excited. I finally got a medium-sized mirror in my wardrobe and tried to imagine myself as a girl when looking at it. Just a regular girl. As I laid in bed, I dreamt of being at school, living a normal life. I had friends. I could speak. I was free. I smiled, something I hadn't done in years in real life.

The following day, my parent's reaction reminded me that such a dream would never happen. My sister started to distance herself from me. She didn't look at me with love anymore. She tolerated me, but even she began to see me as a monster.

I tried, and tried, but this pain would always beat me. I saved as much as possible from my allowance until I got enough to buy my first set of women's clothes when I was 15. I gathered all the courage I could and pretended they were a gift for someone else. I don't know if the salesperson believed me; it must have been weird to see a teenage boy buy women's underwear, among other things, but I got them, nonetheless.

They lasted two days at home. My parents found them and started searching my room daily. They watched my every move. I had no privacy anymore; they removed the doorknob from my room.

I started going to Rosalyn's room when nobody was home. She had a full-body mirror, which was better than the one in my room. I got away with it for some time until one day when she returned earlier than I expected.

The way she yelled at me. The awful things she said to me. I hated myself. Why was I doing that? What is wrong with me? The only person who ever showed a bit of love for me thought I was some sort of pervert, and I could not explain that all I wanted was to be myself without burdening anyone.

She misunderstood my intentions, or perhaps I misunderstood myself. I tried to tell her the truth, but I could not speak. I was voiceless. All I could do was cry as I tried to hide myself. I didn't want her to see me, for I knew what her eyes perceived. I ran to my room and stood against the door, trying not to let her in, begging her to forgive me and to give me a moment to take her dress off. This wouldn't happen if I was just a girl. I wouldn't be judged, I wouldn't have to hide, I wouldn't hate myself, I could be free if only I could be a girl.

She didn't tell my parents but didn't speak or look at me for days.

She locked her room daily, so I couldn't come in anymore. I didn't want to, and I never wanted to. It's that I could never have the chances she had because of my body. I hated it. Please, Rose, please, don't take it personally; I was just trying to survive. I stood in front of the door again, and I just—"

Avelyn was standing in front of Lizzy's room, holding the knob. She opened the door. It looked like Elizabeth had cleaned it, and even the bed was made. The wig Avelyn wore the day before was on a stand over the drawer. The sun was setting over the horizon, and its warm light illuminated the room through the window.

Avelyn looked at the wardrobe.

"Lizzy said I could," Avelyn thought. She got closer to the wardrobe, and one of its doors was slightly open, allowing her to see some of Elizabeth's dresses. "But it still doesn't feel right."

She turned to the bed and sat there. "I don't want to keep doing this. If I'm going to live as myself, I want to have my own belongings."

Avelyn looked at the blankets underneath her. "She said I could sleep here, but I wonder if it's okay. I don't want to taint this place." Avelyn thought as she looked at her hands and legs. "Also, I don't have pajamas. I'm not going to wear my street clothes to sleep here. But I can't deny that sleeping 3 nights on the sofa has not been any good for my neck. I'll just sleep over her blankets, cover myself with the ones she gave me for the sofa, and use my hoodie as a pillow."

Avelyn slept that way for the following nights. She would lie perpendicular on the bed near the footboard. As long as she slept in the fetal position, the width of the bed was enough for her. It definitely was an improvement over the sofa.

She spent the following days cleaning the apartment, as she didn't want to feel useless and ungrateful. She also read on her phone and wrote in her journal.

Four days later, her phone's alarm went off to indicate it was 10:00 a.m., waking her.

Once she got up, she peeked out of Lizzy's room. There was no one there. "When will she return?" Avelyn asked herself.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she changed into the clothes she had in her backpack: skinny jeans and a black polo shirt. She then took the outfit she had been wearing since the day she met Lizzy to the washing machine in the bathroom. "I hope she doesn't mind that I'm using her washing machine, but I can't keep wearing this. Thankfully, I had enough underwear for a week." Then she folded all the blankets and ensured Lizzy's bed was well made. Finally, she went to the kitchen to have breakfast.

Avelyn served herself a bowl of cereal and milk. She sat at the table and took a spoonful.

"How long will she allow me to stay? I need to find a job. I'll need more blockers next month, and if I can start hormones, that will mean I'll need even more money... Also, I want to get my own clothes. And I need to help Lizzy with the rent, at the very least. Oh, there are so many things I need to think about. Maybe I could learn to cook. I've always wanted to, and I can also help Lizzy by cooking and keeping her apartment clean."

Avelyn finished the bowl of cereal. After washing the dishes, she put on her earphones and lied on the sofa with her journal. She was drawing something; it was a female human figure but lacked facial features. Just as she started adding details, she saw the door open out of the corner of her eye. She closed her journal and jumped, hiding her body behind her backpack.

Elizabeth came in.

"Lynn! Oh, I'm so glad you're still here. I'm so sorry I left you alone all this time. I tried to come back earlier, but my boss..." Elizabeth paused as she approached Avelyn. "Are you alright?"

"Y—Yes! Sorry," Avelyn blushed as intensely as always. "I had my earphones on and... I didn't hear you coming..."

"Oh, sorry, I scared you. I didn't mean to. But, tell me, how have you been? I hope you didn't feel too lonely, and... Why are you wearing that again? Didn't I tell you to take anything you wanted from my wardrobe?"

"Y—You did, and I'm thankful for that," Avelyn replied. "But I... I didn't want to go through your things. I... I don't feel comfortable doing that; if you give me something yourself, it's a lot different from me just taking it. Also... T—Thank you so much for everything, really, but... I hope it's not too much to ask, but I'd like to get my own things, so... I've been thinking about it, and I really want to get a job as soon as possible. I want to be able to buy things for me, and also, I can't just stay here doing nothing."

Elizabeth looked around. "To me, it seems like you did a lot. You didn't have to clean up my mess, Lynn, but thanks."

"It's the very least I could do."

"Well," Elizabeth smiled at Lynn. "You look a lot more calm now. Maybe we can find something for you. You can put your backpack down now, by the way."

"S—sorry," Avelyn said as she put the backpack and journal on the sofa.

Elizabeth giggled. "You know? It's nice to get home and have someone to talk to. We need to get you a new phone number so we can speak when I'm not here. That reminds me: I'm not sure if this is good or bad news for you, but it looks like your parents aren't searching for you. I have seen no missing person report matching your description, so you can rest assured you'll be safe from them as long as you don't cross paths with them on the streets."

"I don't think that will happen. I'm not even from this city; they live 2 hours away and have no idea where I went."

"Oh. Great. Then I… guess you have nothing to worry about."

Avelyn nodded and kept quiet.

“Did you want them to look for you?”

“I don’t know,” Avelyn replied. “If they had changed their minds and wanted to talk, maybe It’d be okay, but I guess it’s better this way. I don’t think they’ll change. Even Rosalyn, my sister, hated me. She was the only one I could trust back then, but now…”

“I’m really sorry, Lynn. You didn’t deserve to go through this. Life is truly unfair.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ve wanted to leave for some time now, so… I don’t feel so bad about it. It was for the best.”

"You’re right,” Elizabeth smiled. “By the way, my friend will bring the bed today. You haven't been sleeping on the sofa, have you?"

"No. Thank you for allowing me to use your bed."

"Good. Listen, my friend has a resting bitch face and doesn't know how to express her feelings, so she may look distant and aloof, but she's actually very caring, and you can trust her. Her name is Valerie. If, for some reason, I don't come back one of these days, I'll tell her to come for you and take you to her home. It's a lot bigger tha—"

"Wha—What do you mean 'if you don't come back?'" Avelyn interrupted.

"Oh, don’t worry. Some days, I may think I'm ready to go home, but something unexpected happens, and I must stay longer. I don't want you to be alone for too long. It's not nice, for that reason, Valerie can take you to her home. She has a younger relative living with her, and she's much more fun than Val. I think you'd get along well with her."

"I see. I hope your job is not too dangerous or exhausting."

"Nah, don't worry. It's more about socializing, meeting people, making agreements, and signing contracts."

"Oh, that's good," Avelyn replied.

"What do you think if we go shopping after we get the furniture? This time, you can show me what you like."

"I—I'm not sure I should spend the money I have in—"

"Yes, you should. You want to search for a job, and you can't keep wearing the same two outfits every—wait... If I give you some of my clothes as a gift, would they count as yours? I mean, you wore my dress and had no issues with that."

"Well... Y—yes. I could call them mine, but they must come from you. I want to avoid searching in your wardrobe; I just don't like to invade your privacy. I don't want you to get a wrong idea of me."

"Oh, Avelyn, I would never. You're too pure. There are many things I don't wear anymore, so I'll see what I can give you. Still, I want us to go shopping. Wouldn't you like that? I can do your makeup, and you'll wear the wig. This will be your first time going out as yourself, right?"

"I—I'd love to, b—but..."

"Then it's decided. Oh, I'm so excited! I haven't gone shopping with a friend—or alone—in years."

Avelyn smiled, feeling more calm.

“Perhaps it is true that we don’t really exist until there is someone there to see us existing. I want Lizzy to see me, the real me. Maybe that will ease the pain.”

Previous chapter

---

Special thanks to Lexi and Marmar for helping me correct the translation <3