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Prodigal

3.21

~3.21~

It was the end of the week at school, and it was time for me to give my presentation on something people probably wouldn’t know a lot about. I had visual aids, note cards, and I was ready to slay all the basic bitches who did their presentations on Mustangs or how to contour.

After plugging my USB drive into the computer to project my presentation onto the board, I got in front of the class to see thirty bored faces looking back at me. I saw Jeffery’s comforting face, but also Ethan’s disgusting one.

“I want to start off with a story.” I said. “This story is about a fourteen-year-old girl that was walking in a park, not far from here. She was standing by a tree to have a rest. Minding her own business, a middle aged man, twice her size, came up to her, and, for no apparent reason, grabbed her, hit her, and threw her to the ground.”

I clicked the clicker to show a picture of me on the board right after the bitch had beat me up in the park. It showed me all bruised up.

“That girl was me.” I continued. “I live in a world that hates me. Unconditionally hates me. I don’t understand why, and I probably never will. But what I do understand is that there are people all over the place that have so much unconditional hate for me, that they consider me with such insignificance, it’s like I’m not even a person to them. The man that beat me up received no legal prosecution. He spent one hour in jail, paid a fine, and he was on his way."

I clicked the clicker again to show the magazine cover of me that I had ripped up in the gas station.

“This is a magazine cover that I was on the cover on earlier this week.” I explained. “It’s called Enquire Australia. And my whole life they have taken unflattering photos of me, blown them up on magazine covers, and sold the lies they wrote about me for $3.99 to every piece of trash in this country that would support this company.”

I stopped for a dramatic pause. “This is the world that I live in. This is my life. My name is Emelia Hemmings. When I was born, I was assigned a male body. I was given a masculine name. And even though I’ve always been a girl, and always will be, everyone insists that I’m a man. I have to face angry bigots beating me up in public. I have to deal with national tabloids writing slanderous things about me. But that’s not the worst part of my life as a transgender girl.”

I took another dramatic pause. “The worst part is that I have no safe place. This building, this place, school, it’s supposed to be a safe place. But it’s not a safe place, because there are people in this school that have the same unconditional hate for me that my assailant does, and that Enquire Australia does.”

I looked at Ethan. “There are people in this classroom who have made it their mission to make my life a living hell because, I am transgender. I’m not going to say who. You know who you are. My question for those of you in this classroom, you know who you are, is why? Did I hurt you? Did my transition somehow affect your life in a way that I am oblivious to? If you have the guts, say it now, because I truly do not understand. If you have the guts to stand up right now and say to me all the things you’ve said to me ever since I started transitioning, do it now.”

Dead silence.