Realizations and Identity

An attempt

[creativitycantbefound]

Author's Note

I will begin with all of the pieces I included and why they are here. As the title states, the theme I am following is Realizations and Identity. All of my pieces will reflect that. While it won't be a giant factor in all of these pieces, there will be self-realization, finding identity, finding out interests and lessons learned from all of that. 

The first piece of Shining.

Only the first part of this story is done, but it will follow the story of a young trans girl who is part of a clan who have female werewolves. This girl is worried she won't become a wolf on her 13th year's full moon, making her seem like she's not really trans. 

The second story is Forgotten. 

This one is about a little boy trying to realize his goals. He wanted to go on an adventure and have a lot of fun while doing it. It does not work for him, but he was trying to realize who he and find out what he enjoyed, find his identity. 

Social Stigmas, is a simple rant I wrote exploring why people are ridiculed for their identity. 

The DPS comic story is about a girl who is trying to find out who she is while trying her best not to become a main character. 

The Acroamatic story was about a boy named Chris realizing all the mistakes he's made that lead to the scene he was in and he resolves to get much better. 

Prepared is a story of an accepting parents rather than a rant about unaccepting people. 

Exhaustion is the only one which deals with national identity and protecting it. 

Slurs is a story of an online gamer who was throwing a lot of slurs at me. 

The first new piece I wrote was a poem/rant style piece called My Story. I wrote it to keep to the identity theme of my portfolio, as well as wanting to point out the things in the poem.

The second piece is a story of how I found out I was queer. 

All of these pieces are ones I feel strongly about because they are personal projects or because they show who I am.

In my writing process, I have learned a lot of things. I have learned new conventions of writing, like script style writing. Although I did not show much of it, I know I have more to improve on. I think the things I improved on most was creating more realistic dialogue. In learning that, I also found a chance to style real actions people would adhere to when they are communicating with others in a regular conversations, as well as very specific  situations. I also think I improved on the quality of my writing, making it more enjoyable while keeping the detail I used to have in my plots. However, the content I type up is slimming down, so that may be a problem I can identify in my writing. As well as the rushed nature of my writing. I do not give myself enough time to sit down and write, due to the circumstances around me or weariness. The biggest problem I still have is that I do not always have the motivation to sit down and write even when I know I should. It is a habit I hope to fix once I am less busy with my work. 

From this online learning process, I have learned that you really do need to motivate yourself when you are writing. No motivation for writing will result in no writing. No writing means you got nothing done. As a writer, doing nothing is the worst. Writing one word is better than that. I had hoped to finish this course faster, but I could not finish on time. I will continue to learn more about my own style of writing and continue to improve my work. 

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Coming Out

As a queer youth myself, I feel like adding my own story onto all the others. In the interest of keeping my story short, I won’t go into too much detail of how I came out as Trans and polysexual. I believe I came out as Trans first. Before I even knew the concept of social expectations, I was forced into them. My mother constantly told me “boys have to do this!” or that I was acting too much like a girl. From early on, that always annoyed me. Once I had immigrated to Canada, I started to learn of the expectations that society puts on people of all genders. The least expectations are given to the males. This is followed by those who do not identify as a man or a woman. Then there are the females and finally, those who choose to identify outside of the gender binary and the Trans people who do identify within the binary. All of these things, I never knew, however. I didn’t become more aware of these until later. I started out as a homophobe and transphobe myself. I never really understood what those really meant. I simply made fun of gay people because others did. Eventually, I started to question why it was bad. I decided myself that it wasn’t. Everyone else around me thought otherwise, so I decided not to question it, to remain normal. When coming out as gay opens you up to so much ridicule, I don’t think people are too open to admit it. Around the 10th grade, I went to a social website called tumblr. It was a fun past-time and I enjoyed exploring the website. This is when I learned about transgender people. I was ignorant to that before. I thought Trans people getting surgery was gross and thought they were men just trying to experience female bodies. Tr*nny is a slur I am ashamed to have used. However, after discovering that being Trans isn’t just a sick fetish people have, I was more open to the idea. Eventually, I started to question myself. I felt more attached to the identity of femininity rather than masculinity. I questioned myself for a long time and eventually, I found out that I was in-fact not cisgender. I was transgender. It took a while to come out to people and tell them that I was trans. It took a lot of courage too. In the end, I did it. I told them all. I came out as polysexual after coming out as pansexual. I came out as pansexual because after realizing I was Trans, I immediately realized that my interests did not lie solely to females. I decided on polysexual later because I was never really attracted to any boys sexually. I found out these things about myself after finding out that they existed. I feel like people shelter their children too much from these things and don’t let them explore. Finding yourself is hard. Realizing your identity isn’t easy by any means. I think that if more people were aware of trans people, all the sexualities and genders that exist, more people would identify with those terms. 

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Slurs

                This one was a very personal story, I suppose. I felt like it needed to be told however. The problem is that it isn’t once incident. It is a collection of incidents that makes me absolute detest the online community, especially the online gaming community. However, I haven’t given up gaming. I will recount one story in particular that left an incredible impression on me.

                This incident occurred shortly after I had lost a few games to the aggressor. After those games, I had beaten this person once with a different character than the one I had been using. The following occurred:

                “Wow, you noob. You started running and lagging there,” This other person, while I forgot his name, let’s name him Eren.

                “I really wasn’t doing either, but whatever you say,” I responded calmly.

                “Hahaha, you’re just angry that I was beating you so much,” Eren mocked.

                “Hardly,” I was slightly annoyed as I prepared for another game with this person. Whenever people win so much against me, I get very competitive and my desire to win gets stronger. I knew I was better than this person.

                “Lmao, you’re so angry,” Eren said once again.

                “Okay,” My only response.

                “I can feel how much anger you much be feeling right now,” Eren tried to provoke me further. He started the game.

                It was the same as before. Since I was more determined now, I had won the game and proven that my win previously was not a fluke. However, this person would not quit with their demeanor.

                “You’re going hard now? I wasn’t really trying either. I guess it’s time to do that,” I was getting tired of seeing this kind of behavior everywhere, but I had to prove to him that I wasn’t just going to quit because of his cockiness.

                Another battle ensued. This time, I won with much more ease than the other games with the character I was best with. Following this was another battle with his best character, as he claimed, where the battle was drawn out longer, but the result remained the same.

                “It’s because you lag,” Eren accused me of that once again.

                “I’m certain you will believe that no matter how much I don’t,” I answered him.

                “Shut up, you f*g,” Eren started getting hostile.

                “Okay, that’s just rude,” I was getting angry at this player for their prejudice, rather than their mocking.

                “And you’re a r**ard,” Eren’s anger at me was clear.

                “First of all, I’m a girl. Second of all, that’s very offensive,” This was just ridiculous.

                “So you’re a tr*nny?” I was amazed at all the slurs he was throwing in such a short amount of time.

                “No, just a girl. Quite frankly, you’re just being an a**hole,” Politeness wasn’t going to work on someone who acted like that.

                “Shut up, b*tch. You’re just a f*cking noob who keeps lagging and winning these battles,” He was getting really competitive, “Ready so we can go again.”

                I complied with that request only to come out with 3 wins and one loss. He gloated a lot when I lost that one time.

                “You f*cking b*tch. I can’t believe I let a tr*nny beat me,” Eren was throwing around slurs like a ball during any sport.

                “Are you kidding, please shut up,” I was getting a head-ache from the behavior.

                “Well, that’s exactly what you are, you noob…” I was already out of the game. I had enough of being called slurs and treated like I was lesser because of my choices.

                This experience taught me that treating people like how you wanted to be treated would only result in you being crushed. It also taught me to just have fun while playing games. That’s what is most important. A few weeks following the incident, I stopped playing games as much. Likely due to increased pressure from school.  However, my hatred for gamers is ever strong. 

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Exhaustion

The war is going to end. A war? No, this wasn’t a war. It was an invasion. Countless times, they’d been attacked. What was all of this for? They just wanted one simple right, but they had to die for it? Rahul was just another face. A face that was not seen often, another soldier. He used to have a family. His family, they were killed. Pakistan did not want them to have this one simple right. It was the right to govern themselves as they saw fit even when they had become a country of their own. Bangladesh, a country recently made, originally the province of Bengal from India. It hadn’t even been a century since its creation.

But that didn’t matter. Pakistan did not want Bangladesh to have its own language. It wanted the population of Bangladesh to learn Urdu and forgot Bangali. Eventually, they would have gotten further, taken Bangladesh’s right to govern and exist as a separate country. It was going to too far. This was not going to be another take over. Even though Pakistan had a military and could take what it wanted, Bangladesh wouldn’t just give up that easily.

It wanted the rights it had rightfully claimed for itself. The right to govern, to speak Bangali as the population saw fit. They weren’t going to be stopped by Pakistan, but it was hard.

It was very, very hard. This was not a battle that was easy to win. Bangladesh was new, it had just started to grow, to learn how to run as a country. Pakistan had practice, it was at an advantage, it had weapons and the training to reach its goal. So how was Bangladesh going to fight back? It did not have weapon. It was poor and learning. So how had it lasted so long?

Bangladesh was fighting. From every household, anyone who wanted to help the resistance was taken. It was the beginning of this invasion. Pakistan was surprised that this was going to happen, they had not expected much resistance. I was not a part of that original movement. However, Pakistan stopped that resistance. Pakistan was suspicious now. It took action against this. Pakistan decided that it was going to put a stop to this. It started to go around to every house and check if there was a tool to fight back. If there were any guns, the men of the family would be shot on the stop, the woman raped and sometimes, the house burned. It was horrifying. It was inhumane, and yet, history repeated itself to play out these same events over and over all over the world. They continued to do this with every house. Eventually, it looked like it was going to be over for Bangladesh. Eventually, Bangladesh did not stand for it. The resistance did not stop.

I am proof. I resist and I am going to defend my rights to the very end. It was going to be a hard battle but I was still fighting and so were the people around me.

I was not giving up, and neither was my country. Everyone said that this battle was going to be over soon. Pakistan was confident that it was going to win. There was nothing we could do, even people from our own country said that. I did not believe that.

I had a friend who did. He went and helped the Pakistani people. He used to be part of the resistance, but he was taken away. He told them everything. All the hidden weapons were taken from us and our companions killed. It was a devastation defeat, but only for that time. A resistance has risen again. This time, we were ready and we were going to stop them.

We are going to do this. We are ready and we are going to strike. The final battle, that’s what I want. That’s what we all want. I am ready.

  Bangladesh liberated itself in 1971. Pakistan agreed to allow Bangladesh to speak its own language and stay as separate countries. While tensions still run high between the two countries, there has been no more aggression between the two. We did it.

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Prepared

Arrrgggh. Not now. Ideally, never. But ESPECIALLY not now! This is horrendous. It's... the worst possible thing that could've happened. I can't deal with this right. I can't really even think where I would begin to solve a solution so large. It would really take my best efforts to even scratch the surface of this problem, never mind, resolve it. No, I would have to try my best anyway. Taking a deep breath, I faltered. It just wasn't going to be as saying I should just do it. No, confidence didn't come quite that quickly. Or that often either, in my case. How was I going to do it? How could I show my face? I hate it. I hate myself. I hate being gay. I hate feeling scared like this. I can't just go in there and face my mother. She's always told me how normal I was. How she would hate it if that ever changed. I can't. I can't! No no no!!! It wasn't just going to be as easy as it is in the movies. Not every parent is that accepting. Not everyone thinks being gay is perfectly okay. It wasn't that simple to come out. It wasn't that simple at all, especially to tell your parents. That is probably hardest of all. My friends knew. My parents? Laughable. But someone my mother is close friends with saw me with my partner. That's all it takes really. One mistake. And your life is over. Another deep breath. Followed by a heavy sigh. I just couldn't do it. It was not as simple for me as people made it out to be. "Oh, hey Siana, welcome home," I hadn't even heard the door open, "I was just gonna throw out the trash, but would you please do it?" I was frozen on the spot. Already I was confused. Had she known I was here the whole time? Maybe she did? Maybe she was just waiting to lash out. I grabbed the bag without making eye contact and ran over to the garbage bin to throw it in. I walked back as slowly as I could, entering with my mother still beside the door herself. "Get washed up and come back when you're comfortable," She went to the kitchen herself. I did exactly as she said, still completely worried. She wasn't reacting at all. Did she not know yet? She should've heard as soon as her friend saw us. Was she busy then? The worries consumed me completely. Was I going to be told to break up? What would happen? I walked to the kitchen and went to get myself some water. "I set up some snacks on the table," It seemed like she really didn't know. I moved myself past her to the kitchen table, still quite high strung. "And bring over your girlfriend sometime. I'd like to meet her." My head turned, eyes wide and body spinning around, "What?!" Relief. Annoyance. Both at the same time. All I did was crunch on the baby carrot I had picked up.

[creativitycantbefound]

Acroamatic: Arc One (Ending)

                This is all my fault…

As history repeats itself, the seeker will once again find the keeper. As the keeper's patience wears thin, the apocalypse will be initiated. However, it is not until the keeper finally loses themselves that it shall truly begin. Once the keeper loses consciousness, the maintainer will lose all control. Then the seeker once again stirs up trouble. This time, they will finally learn. The victim will see their past. And the apocalypse will be at the brink of its destruction. Unless it is stopped again, the world will be at its final breath. 

                “Fatima!” Chris screamed. It was entirely his fault. Again. He tried. He wanted so much to save Fatima. He wanted to save the world. He wanted to make it better, “No!”

                It was time. The keeper was unconscious. She had lost herself. Chris had angered her before. Just a few months earlier. They were all unaware at that point. They never knew what they had started. The keeper of the apocalypse. Also known as the maiden of time. This was Fatima. They didn’t know.

                But Chris had found her. Chris took an interest in her. Fatima was much less willing to become his friend. This uneasy relationship quickly ended. But Fatima lost control of her emotions and the apocalypse began. The keeper was found. The keeper was taken. The maintain was with her. Amiir would never forgive him. Chris knew that. He had allowed Fatima to get hurt. That was all of his fault.

                The rumbling of the ground had become stronger. Fatima was still floating up in mid-air. It was beginning. Jacob was somewhere here. He knew this would happen. He wanted to control time. The maiden could rewrite time. Jacob was going to go all the way. He was going to initiate the apocalypse until the end so that he could rewrite time. He wanted that power. Chris didn’t know why. Chris was a simple person. He didn’t want all of this to happen. He was going to make friends. He was going to be happy. But he made all of his friends suffer.

                Chris had also dragged Damian along; his best friend. Damian always put up with Chris. She was the greatest friend. She was truly a victim in this situation. He had dragged her into this. Now she was somewhere else. He didn’t know where. He was worried.

                The rumbling was getting intense. Chris tried to hold onto the ground so it didn’t shake him. He was going to get thrown off the ground if he didn’t hold on. He saw all the gryphons flying towards the mountain. It was going to begin soon. Chris stayed there, right under the levitating Fatima. She was going to fall any time. He was there to catch her.

                Jacob was there now.

                “Do you know what you’ve done?” Chris shouted.

                “Oh, don’t give me all the credit, Chris. You helped. Like a true friend,” Jacob calmly retorted.

                “But I didn’t plan this!” Chris accused. Jacob was acting too calm. He knew what was going to happen. He wanted it.

                “Neither did I under a few weeks ago. I got lucky. I thought I was going to have to search for the keeper, but you brought her to me. You saved me a lot of travelling. I really thought I was the seeker. Turns out that it’s my old buddy, Chris,” Jacob stuck his fencing sword into the ground and leaned his body onto it, digging it deeper into the ground.

                “You hurt me! You hurt everyone I care about. You hurt Fatima.” Chris was getting angry.

                “I already hurt you, don’t do this again. I am the better fencer. You know that.” Jacob only looked at Chris and saw that it was unavoidable, “Alright, whatever you want.”

                “This isn’t a fight for me anymore,” Chris spoke roughly.

                Their battle never began. The first stage of the apocalypse had begun. Fatima stopped levitating. Chris jumped to catch her in his arms. Jacob and Chris both looked up at the mountain. The top had blown off completely. As soon as it had, the ground around them had started to glow. They made a pattern. Only someone looking down on it could see that it was a giant gryphon. They didn’t need to see that pattern, however. It rose out of the volcano slowly. This new gryphon, it was horrid. It was deformed beyond belief. The eyes were large and they looked different from gryphon eyes. One half of them were red, the other was black, cut exactly in the middle. It never closed its eyes. It never had a way to. The beak was a sharp black. The beak was much longer than an average beak, even as a giant gryphon. The wings were made of only bone. There were no feathers. No skin. The bone was accompanied with blood. The wings oozed blood. As the gryphon took off to fly, the blood would splatter behind it. It had three legs with too many claws. The claws were a shiny grey, made of metal. The tail was on fire. It slowly burned the forest as the gryphon flied away.

                Chris had started to run, getting on higher ground so the lava from the volcano would not harm either him or Fatima. The smaller gryphons all followed its larger, disgusting counterpart. This was only the first stage of the apocalypse.

                There was much worse to come.

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My Story

There are those who tell me I am too young Those who believe I can’t possibly know what I’m doing Who like to say that I am a freak And I am an abomination

Well here I am, the freak that we all love to ridicule The freak that can never fit in The one who figured themselves out before the others Who fought in a world continually abusive

But I have a few questions myself Why is no little boy ever questioned  for pulling a girl’s hair Why are they not reprimanded but encouraged Why are they taught to disregard a girl’s feelings

And furthermore If I am too young to decide my gender Why is everyone identifying with  their body not too young Why are they not ridiculed for doing exactly what I am

Why am I too young to like girls When boys can do it How dare I feel something that others feel But it’s not exactly how they feel it

I am queer and proud But others are straight and cis Somehow, somehow That’s always better

Somehow that’s “normal”

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Designated Protagonist Syndrome: Script Style

Scene: Home after pedant incident

-          (Name due to change)

Ria: I’m home!

Dad: Hello, sunshine, what happened today?

*Ria makes her way up the stairs to her room*

Ria: Pendant, new transfer student, the figure from this morning tried to approach me again.

Dad: Did you avoid them all?

Ria: No, dad. Actually, I decided to suddenly become a hero and destroyed monsters all day long and I’m hiding it from you because you wouldn’t believe me.

Dad: Well, darn. Looks like it was a pretty fun day.

Ria: Yeah, I’m gonna go wash up.

Dad: Make sure you’re ready to go out tonight.

Ria: Yeah, another way to be completely normal even though we have enough time to cook anything. Yes, father. When are we going out?

Dad: Just around eight.

Ria: Thanks!

--

Dad: I can’t believe that little cat seriously followed us just to try to make you a magical girl.

Mom:  Again…

Ria: Guys, this happens every time we go outside. Actually, it happens whether we go outside or not. It’s going to keep happening, stop being so surprised.

Mom: You’re always so calm about this munchkin.

Ria: I know you helped me get away from it when I was young… But I live this every single day of my life. Especially things like that transfer student. He keeps trying to talk to me… no matter how I act towards him! He won’t get the clue. I have tried so much just to tell him off but… It’s no use. He’s going to try to get me to like him no matter how much I try to avoid him.

Dad: Could you get him transferred to another class? Or transfer yourself?

Ria: No! That’s not possible because it’s the only history class that runs. And I need that history class to pass. I can’t be a dropout, remember?

Dad: Right… right…

Mom: You could try befriending the boy…

Ria: But mom, what if he tries hitting on me…

Mom: Boys are going to try hitting on you for your whole life. And they’re not going to leave you alone because they’re all horrible.

Dad: He-

Ria: Dad, all boys are horrible and you know it, don’t try to defend them.

Dad: Bu-

Mom: Thomas, are you going to be that guy?

Ria: Yeah dad, don’t try to defend the select few boys when so many of them are jerks.

Dad: I just don’t thin-

Mom: Thomas, seriously, it’s like only three or four boys in this entire city that you’re going to try to defend. The others are probably misogynists in some way.

Dad grumbles silent agreement.

Dad: Well, I see your point but I still think it’s kind of mean.

Ria: I’ll reconsider my words when they stop being such a horrible and threatening presence around me.

Mom: While simultaneously being the most whiny.

Dad: You guys are so rude.

Ria/Mom: Yeah, well at least we’re not like the boys.

Dad: Oh, whatever, let’s just go eat.

Short page of them have a family outing and enjoying their time together.

--

Next Day at school

Ria: I feel bad because of how I treated the transfer student. I should clear things up with him.

Regular sequence of Ria once again facing a lot of challenges trying to prevent herself becoming a main character until it is the period where Ria sees the transfer student.

Ria asks him is seen talking to him in class and he has a big grin and he agrees.

After school, Ria and the transfer student are walking to a mall.

Ria: And that’s the story. I don’t want my life to become a story for someone. I don’t want to become a main character.

TS: I see. Well, my sole programming was to become you lover, so I’m not sure what your desires are right now.

Ria: Your… programming?

TS: Yes, my programming. It tells me that my primary objective is to fall in love with you and have you fall in love with me.

Ria: Why do you have a programming?

TS: It was my understanding that everyone contained some programming telling them their objectives.

Ria: No… Humans have brains. We are capable of having conscious thoughts. We all have personalities that develop as we grow…

TS: My personality is to be developed with my romance-

Ria: With me?

TS: Yeah.

Ria: But, is there nothing you dream of doing? Nothing that you like or enjoy doing?

TS: It did not come in my programming. I would have developed it as I tried to win your affections.

Ria: You’re not going to win my affections. Ever.

TS: That sounds harsh… Why won’t I?

Ria: First of all, I refuse to become a main character.

TS: I understand that, bu-

Ria: I’m gay…

TS: What?

Ria: I like girls. I am a girl. I do not like men, I only like woman.

TS: This puts a dent in my plans. If you are not capable of being romantically or sexually attracted to me… I can’t ever win your affections.

Ria: Just love your life.

TS: Your love is my life.

Ria: Make a new life. You have so many options!

TS: I do not know how, my programming is not suited for such a task.

Ria: I will teach you how to do that.

--

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Social Stigmas

Every once in a while there comes a fork in the road. One may not know which one to take. They may decide to take the path that best suits them or a path that is most convenient. And then, once again, there is another path. This time, they have to choose between the path that was their original decision and the path that may be just a little better. These forks, choices, are not very rare. And this brings about an endless possibility of paths that you can take. There are so many choices and so many different outcomes that it’s infinite. There are an infinite number of decisions and choices that we can make. This means that there are a larger infinite number of futures that can occur. One of these futures will occur depending on the choices that you make. But, the choice isn’t always easy. For individuals without much worry, these choices still give them stress. Then, an average person who will live their average life expectancy will have enough stress that will allow them to live that long. Then there are the minority of people who were born with, or have developed, an anxiety disorder. These people are almost always uncertain about what they will do next. The thought of the future stresses them and they decide that they will put it off until later. And then, once again, when it arises, the thought will stress them out to the point that they will not be able to function, and they may panic. Many people tell these individuals that they do not need to worry so much. They are overreacting. They just need to calm down. These remarks, often by those who do not understand anxiety or have never heard of the disorder, are ableist. Ableism form of social discrimination against disabled people. An anxiety disorder is much like clinical depression. It isn’t taken seriously and there is not much help for those who suffer from it. But, it doesn’t mean that these people are worthless or useless. They are affected by an illness just like every other disabled person. The fact that it is ridiculed and they are told to simply get over it would be outrageous if the same thing was told to someone with a physical disability. But then, people seem to physically disabled individuals poorly as well. They are not treated as if they were people. There are disgusting comments made about disabled people that should be reprimanded but aren’t. Because abled people have what they need, they have advantages and they are happy with those. They have no problems ridiculing a disabled person for fun. Back to the point on anxiety and depression though, because people do not take these disorders seriously, it is hard to get diagnosed and treated. There is also a very serious problem with the healthcare system, especially the American one, but it also happens with Canadian healthcare. People are not given proper treatment. It is as simple as that. People are not given the treatment they need because others believe they do not need it. Doctors are usually abled people. They may understand and be able to diagnose people with illnesses, but they are not the best of the best. Sometimes they are not the best people. In many cases, black people are given less medicine because it is believed amongst us that they are tougher. Indigenous people are given more medicine, on which they can overdose, because they were going to do drugs anyway, right? This social stigma that is upheld and perpetuated amongst us ends up harming many people. And often, people who will have illnesses will not get a proper diagnosis. Doctors have a lot of power, if they say we don’t need it, we can’t get access to it. This isn’t saying that we should let everyone have access to depression and anxiety medication. That would open up a road that would hurt many people. The solution will never be clear. A better healthcare system needs to be created. No one will ever know how to create a perfect system, but the current system can give doctors, who can be racist, ableist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. a lot of power. It allows them to control what we can or cannot access. Transphobic doctors especially. They can act as gatekeepers to a transgender person who needs hormones or a referral to get surgery. It is impossible for a transgender person to transition into a different body otherwise. Too often, one may see stories of how some doctors, even gender therapists, may decide that someone who suffers a lot in their current body is not “trans enough”. There are many stories where people are pressured, misgendered and told they are not who they think they are. This evidently has to stop, but who is going to stop it? There are not many people who decide to become a gender therapist. There are not many people who want that job simply to help others. Therapy costs a lot of money and when doctors and therapists who are transphobic can control whether a trans person can get the support they need, there is a very large problem at hand. In the end, these social stigmas can only be pointed out and talked about until there is a movement. The movement we need isn’t always clear. If people spread the word, that’s how the movement begins. Obviously, there will still be flaws in the newer system someone tries to create. Of course there will never be a perfect system. But people think that they cannot change anything when they can. Rising up and becoming part of the crowd of people who agree is a challenge, but it helps. Everything helps. Every thought. Everything. The choices we make are our own. Making them positive is a choice we have to make.

[creativitycantbefound]

FORGOTTEN

There once was a boy who went into the woods

Looking for a typical adventure that all the others seem to get Determined to be a hero of the lands He left a note to show the world The bravery and will that he held

And into the woods he went Discovering the wonders and wandering to discover He was happy and he was elated A journey that would take him out into the world One that he would enjoy to the last bitter second

The woods were endless but our hero persevered It was destiny He was not going to let this defeat him His very soul shone to show That he wouldn’t lose

But time wears us all down Especially a little boy Whose only wish was to give it his all On a journey to save the world In the end it all fails

So the little boy was lost in the woods With nothing to help him survive And there was no way he could get out No one to help him And the world against him

This one little boy He had nothing left and so then He cried and he cried Until there were no more tears And there’s only one thing about him that everyone remembers

He never came out of the woods

  ‘Missing: A young boy around the age of nine. Silver hair, around 102 lengths tall, dark brown eyes and brown skin. He was last seen heading towards the Loreshire woods. He has been missing for a month. If anyone sees this boy, please contact the Lokmans.’

Every legend has a beginning And this one is no exception The story of a young boy Becomes a new story And unexplained phenomenon

No one understood Because they never thought of it And no one would make it out Of the cursed and forsaken Loreshire woods To ever explain the mystery

Mr. and Mrs. Lokman They never wanted to ender those woods Because it had taken away their son They never entered They never looked

But the legend lived on Brave adventurers always journeyed through More courageous than the last They were confident and they were strong But none ever made it through

Gather around children I’m going to tell you a tale Long ago, there was a boy And he was just like you or me He wanted to go on an adventure

But his fate was grim As he met the creature The creature that haunts the woods That will kill anyone who tries to go through them No one escapes

Do Not Enter

    Years continued to pass by Mr. and Mrs. Lokman persisted That they would never enter the woods The woods that stole their son away And the legend continued to grow

Oh what restless spirit Lies in these woods What will appease thou Rest, Rest Move on

Prayers unanswered As more disappear The souls of warriors Lost to the woods Forever

In the end the parents must travel As they choose to do They must go in and see The horror that will ensue It is fate, it is destiny

The entrance was calm A trail to lead the way The convenience startling and frightening The boy’s journey re-created Once more, but not the last

The parents walked and walked They felt minutes, but a week had passed Finally, finally, they were there They saw and they cried Just as the boy had cried

The boy was there Just sitting there Dead for years And yet still crying A shell, giving birth to something new

  Never forgotten But never remembered Rage and sorrow giving birth To a new life And so they saw…

The new creature

It had silver hair and it had brown eyes

The parents knew Because it was their child They felt the rage and sorrow And an overwhelming guilt But only too late

And now,

They too will be forgotten

[creativitycantbefound]

SHINING

                The howling woke her up; it mesmerized her, and terrified her. Her father was sleeping beside her, protecting her however unlikely it was that she would be in danger. Her mother was out there, there was no doubt in her mind. She looked up at the full moon. It light shone across the village, going as far as it could reach. A simple light, yet very important. However, it was dreadful for her. Whenever the full moon shone, it reminded her that one day, she may not be affected by its power. That she may not be accepted. That she was going to be left out forever from what she knew herself to be.

That she was in fact, what everyone saw her as, not what she felt.

-- Morning came within hours, and a small kiss on the cheek woke her up again, as she saw her mother, and returned to a slumber. Just sunrise.

--

She went about her day, doing the chores that were set out for her, so she could get another story from her mother. It was her favourite time of day, listening to her mother tell stories of her clan. The clan that had clawed through tough times; that had reached a land that they could call their own. The (werewolf) clan. This time, she was excited to hear about the clan’s worst kept secret. It was a story that every child was told, especially the females of the clan. The amount of joy she received, to be a part of this passage, to learn, and to be accepted as a part of the clan. There were many who were opposed to her. Too many to count. They did not see her as worthy of hearing the stories.

No, it would be a hard journey for her, but she was determined, of course. Determination, however, is met with resistance. And to have determination, means to have doubts. She had many doubts. She believed the words of those who did not wish for her to continue on the path she was taking. The words were sometimes kind, sometimes gentle. But too often, they were harsh; they left an imprint on her that she knew would not be erased.

They could not be erased, as long as she lived.

The swift turn of her mood slowed down the progress of her work. She looked at the list of tasks left to complete, and sighed deeply.

A quick break was what she needed. She headed to the bathroom to wash her face. A quick slash on the face and a deep soak of her head in cool water, and then she dried herself off.

A surge of energy shot through her immediately as the coolness calmed her nerves. Her short hair bounced as she went back to work quickly, her long legs taking strides towards her next chore.

--

“NAME,” Her mother called out as she entered the house, slowly moving towards the kitchen to grab a snack.

Quick steps turned into a sprint as NAME reached her mother and jumped, her mother catching her perfectly. “Yes, mother?”

“How did your chores go today? Did you father come check up on you?” Her mother was eating a yellowish fruit.

“I finished everything! Father didn’t have to come and check up on me, I was perfectly fine by myself,” NAME spoke quickly, eager to get to the story that she had been longing to hear ever since she had turned 11.

“You’re more responsible than any other child I’ve ever seen, even those older than you. I’m proud of you, NAME.”

“Yeah! I’ve been trying really hard!” NAME closer her hands around each other and beamed up at her mother.

“I’ll take you out with me in a few days again. This time you’ll be able to remember the trip, now that you’ve grown,” Her mother placed her on the bed beside her own, and went to change into more comfortable clothes.

“I look forward to it. All I’ve seen is father working at the marketplace. I want to go out hunting with you, I want to be a part of that one day,” NAME imagined these events as if they were happening at the moment.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to if you continue as you are doing. You’ll make the entire clan proud,” Her mother was always trying to be supportive, when others refused to give her the same.

“I’ll make you most proud of all!” NAME slowly let her head rest on her bed.

“Are you ready for the story I’m about to tell you?” Her mother was on the bed beside her now.

“Yes!” NAME threw her arms up, and then dropped them to both sides before picking herself and laying her head on her mother’s lap.

“Remember, this story is only to be told in the privacy of your own home. Don’t tell any of your friends what I say here,” NAME nodded in affirmation to the conditions set out for her, “I’ll begin with our warriors.”