On Strength

It's when those invisible hands start poking at you that your eyes slowly open, when a soul's string of fate begins to fray. Standing up from the park bench, you run under the afternoon sun and across the park. You pay no attention to any mortals staring at you as you rush over to a building and wall run up it, making your way to where those hands beckon your mind.

You land and roll off a shop's roof, pausing to gather yourself dust off your skeleton hoodie. You're not sensing any other Devilish or Demonic presences… Some negative human energies… A real negative one just a couple of streets away, most likely your target. You dash off and jump over to the next building, then flip down into the alleyway Assassin Creed style and walk across the next couple of streets.

The house looks normal enough: White, two-story house, cross-patterned white door, dark shingles on top, a garage in the back, and a clean-cut mowed lawn with a blooming garden to complete the set. In short, a real nice place. You got to say, though, there're too many flowers. Either these folks don't mind over-stuffing their yard, they absolutely detest mowing the lawn, or they're overcompensating for something.

You walk down the empty driveway. Empty, meaning this here's a family house. At least one adult is gone, maybe both, if they are not divorced, giving an angsty teen the perfect opportunity to end their equally angsty life.

Just one thing: how're you going to get in? Side glancing around and seeing no nosey-ass neighbours, you jog to the back of the house. No back door, but the window is open. The only problem is that meshy frame thingy that keeps the bugs from getting in the house on late summer days like today.

Ha! Hahhahhahhah! A problem, yeah right!

You take out your handy-dandy and oh-so-trusty pocket knife and, as quietly as you can, cut out a meshy hole, and climb up and in! One of the few times your usually irritably shorter body works to your advantage. Having thick clothes, gloves, and skin are another bonus. Sure, you could have just taken the front door, but that could have been locked, squeaky, and just not as fun. This way will do until you're strong enough to just poof yourself in like older Devils.

…You've also neglected watching that lock-picking video again, but that's not really important right now.

What's important is that the target isn't dead yet! They've probably been taking their sweet ol' time doing the deed. Or maybe just getting cold feet. You've seen some bloodshed over the last couple of years like this, but you've never once witnessed a suicide.

This is a… Special case…

Creeping around the place like a cat is effortless to you. You enter the kitchen from the living room, not bothering to take off your shoes. It's when you start ascending the stairs that… Other things start ascending from your mind.

How will their soul appear? What will it look like? Would it be powerful enough for you? Besides that, how're they planning to end it? Will they cut their wrists, jump in front of a car, tie a noose, rig up a death trap, steal some pills..?

The pills you almost took were the orange ones Mother used f-

Shut up, shut up! No, forget that! Forget!

Oh. You're… You're at the top already, the soft peach carpet helping to smother away your footstep sounds. Right, back to reality.

You pick up on the sounds of crying and the smell of blood flares up into your nose. You walk over and turn the handle as sloooooooowly as you can and open the door juuuuuust a bit...

Crap, she's looking right at you from where she's sitting in the tub. Starting with her wide, red, shocked-ridden eyes, you look her down, going from her short, blond haircut, to her tear and mascara -stained jaw, to her flat chest… To her slit wrists.

"W-who are you?" She sniffs in a low voice. You open the door fully and let yourself in, keeping your face as apathetic as possible.

"I'm a Devil. I've come to see who's decided to off themselves…" You let a faint smile grace your lips. "And maybe offer them a deal in exchange for things, their soul usually."

"Are you for real, girl?"

"I prefer male pronouns, dude." You let your smile grow a little more upon seeing her reaction to your horns growing from your head and tail from your back. Damn, that feels good! Feels like you got something poking you all around there when they're hidden.

"…My name's Alice."

"Well then, Alice, tell me: What is your story, hmm?" You lean on the cabinet as her gaze falls to her blue skirt and red tub.

"…I-isn't it obvious? I've spent years confused on who I was. When I was twelve, I found out more about sexuality and gender. When I told my family I wanted to be called Alice, they reacted…" A stuttering sigh escapes her mouth. "… Badly. They wouldn't listen to me, called me b-by my old name and pronouns, tell me I'm w-wr-wrong… Have other p-people tell me I'm wrong… F-friends left me, I get bullied…"

"Shhhh, now." You kneel down to her and put a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me, there's nothing wrong with you. Hell, I'll probably be seeing those assholes in a few years!" She looks over to you and you just can't help the smile you're giving her. "In exchange for your soul, I'll do anything! I know where you've been, alright? Just say the word, before you die, and we'll make 'em pay!"

The sad smile she returns surprises you.

"No. I just wanted to live as-as an equal human being. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to hu-hurt anymore. I want to be free." She leans back and you hear her heart stop beating. You step back, watching as her soul – a blue, ghost-like orb of energy – forms right above her.

When the reaper comes, you just turn around and leave. As you walk down the stairs, you look down to your arms, where scars from your cutting days can still be seen.

Alice wasn't strong enough, but she was definitely stronger than you.

This story, especially the ending, was going to be a lot different. After hearing about Leelah Alcorn, this is what I came up with, because for people like us, there isn't always a happy ending. Sure, my parents have mostly accepted me coming out, but I know that this is just the beginning to what I'll have to face in the future.

~

Yes, I could have made Alice choose to be a Devil, run away, and live happily ever after with an accepting new friend, but that's hardly possible, especially for minors. The suicides can't be wished away, they need to be faced and prevented with love and acceptance.

Fitting songs would be I'm Not Alright by Shinedown and Panic Prone by Chevelle.

Any critiques are appreciated - Monos DOA