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winnie.

Australia

helllo my name is winnie and i'm a sixteen year old loser who's very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very gay

Message to Readers

please try and be kind with the feedback. constructive criticism is always appreciated but as this is still very work-in-progress and is extremely precious to me i need positive critique.

Boys Don't Cry - Extract

March 10, 2016

FREE WRITING

1
Sweat.
 

Sweating was the only feeling Cole had quite grown accustomed to. Not the unbearable pressure that bound his chest, or the tickling sensation that came from strands of hair pricking the back of his neck. No, in this absolutely disgusting heat, the feel of sweat clinging to his skin was the only familiar feeling left that was somewhat "comforting". It dripped from Cole’s forehead down to his cheek and stung on its slow descent down his face, and almost unconsciously he felt his fingertips dust across the wound. It felt raw. It felt like a strange metaphor for the harrowing trauma that acted like a broken record in his mind. It felt like death.
 
"You want to be a boy, huh?! Boys don't cry, so stop crying!"
 
Cole shook his head; it couldn't have happened. He was bad on occasion, but never like this.
-         
Cole wasn’t always a boy. As a matter of fact, he still wasn’t. He was brought into the world on the 26th of June, 1998, as a perfectly healthy and ordinary baby girl. “Josie” his mother had sighed dreamily when asked for the child’s name. Josie Victoria Everett: the apple of his mother’s eye. Josie Victoria Everett: his father’s adored little girl. Josie this, Josie that. Josie, Josie, Josie. But the more Cole grew, the more his understanding on what was expected of him as a “young lady” expanded; and Cole wouldn’t have any of it.
 
As a young child, he frequently stole scissors from the study with the intention of cutting up any clothing that made him seem too “girly”, sometimes scaling tall shelves just to reach them. He succeeded many times, much to the disdain of his parents.
“We just want you to look nice,” they’d tell him time and time again. “Don’t you want to be our pretty girl?”
 ‘Why didn’t they get it?’ Cole would ponder to himself. He didn’t want to be a pretty girl; he didn’t want to be a girl at all! But regardless of Cole’s obvious discomfort in his forced femininity, he never once complained.
 
For almost the entirety of his primary school years, Cole made frequent visits to the lovely guidance counsellors. He was prone to being a nervous wreck over everything, which was later diagnosed as an anxiety disorder when he was 10. Kids can be mean, and it proved no differently in his case. He was picked on by the boys: too big of a cry-baby. He was shunned by the girls: too boyish to be seen within 5 feet of them. Cole was stuck dead in the middle, and it stayed that way for far too long. High school, along with moving to a different area, brought the promise of new people, new opportunities, and a fresh start. And the winds of change proved to be faithful to him, as this was where he met Elliot, an extremely confident, sassy, and educated ace agender, whom if it weren’t for their extensive knowledge of sexuality and gender, Cole may have never finally understood what his years of confusion meant.
 
Cole was transgender.
an extract from my novel project. publishing it bc it was my first thing that i read out at writers and it would feel out of place to not have it on here. still standing by my statement of not publishing for a while though. happy writing and such.

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  • March 10, 2016 - 11:54pm (Now Viewing)

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2 Comments
  • Kaitlyn ❄

    Ooooo super awesome, I hope that you continue this.


    10 months ago
  • Aiden.is.Justice

    This piece is really emotional and lovely. It connects to me in a personal way and it's really descriptive. It's so good that it could be a biography.


    over 2 years ago