Make an Effort

Chapter 7: Strength

Hazel sat in her room, running through different scenarios in which she apologised it August for kissing him. Most of them ended in them hugging, although now that Hazel thought about it, she had never hugged August before. Yet others ended with him yelling loudly at her, drawing the attention from all the students around them. Her stomach twisted violently, she had already thrown up her dinner as her anxiety reached its peak.

It had been a few weeks now and was nearing the end of the first term. Her window to make up with August was closing and she was pulling her own hair out because of it.

Her parents had noticed something was up. They had been getting used to their son dressing up in dresses and smiling and talking about this August boy that they never got to meet. And now Hazel was back in her room, in the dark, listening to music and throwing up the contents of her stomach.

There were dark circles under her eyes from her brain not letting her sleep, punishment; for being a terrible person.

Her hair was wild and unkempt, the strands of brown even darker with oil, the only consolation prize was that it was now long enough to tie back in a small ponytail.

She hadn’t thrown up for so long, after all, it hadn’t help. Her throat ached with the burn of bile and her mouth tasted disgusting but she hadn’t washed her mouth out. It was just another way to punish herself.

A song on her playlist summed up her situation perfectly; ‘Well I know you lay in bed, Contemplating your own death.’ And maybe she was. It was, after all, a dangerous thing to be lying on your bed with a knife in your hand. She would know.

Bitter thoughts pulsed through her head, just like that night. But unlike that night, there was no knife and she had no intention of ending her life. She had promised them after all. Her parents, her teachers; they all trusted her to live. Even if she saw no reason to.

The pills helped her hormones. The name helped her feel like herself. But there was nothing the could fix what she had done.

Her brain offered up unhelpful reasons why August had reacted the way he did. He doesn’t love you. You disgust him. You’re a terrible person.

She could always forget about her promise; a promise wasn’t worth the freedom of escaping her grey and dreary world. But it was something that kept her holding on, something that forced her to stay. And ultimately, that’s all she needed.

She hated the feeling of inadequacy which surrounded her; in her body, in her school work, in her ambitions. She hated all of it.

Start hormones? What next? You have no money to finance your transition. You should get a job. Which university do you want to go to? What course do you want to do? What do you want to do with your life?

Her mind berated her with questions she didn’t know the answer to. She couldn’t even transition yet. Her voice was too deep, and her hair was too short. She wasn’t good enough she was-

There was a chance that she felt this way because August wasn’t with her, telling her that she was being stupid, that she was adequate to him. But that just wasn’t true, the voice in her head was still there, niggling away at her thoughts and turning them toxic, the voice was just quieter when August was around.

She had explained this to Dr. Daniels, and of course, she had offered her some ways to help with it. But listing the things you liked about yourself could only go so far, sometimes there were things Hazel had to do on her own.

Hazel needed to leave, she needed to turn off the music and go for a walk. It was dark outside but she knew that if she wore a pair of baggy pants and a jumper she would look like a guy, so it didn’t matter that much. She would be safe if she wore a disguise.

She passed by Taylor’s room, the fairy lights which hung around the door frame weren’t on and the hallway was dark.

“Taylor, I’m going for a walk.” She called through the door, tucking her hair into a beanie.

She was greeted with silence; Taylor hadn’t talked to her that much since she found her lying in a pool of her own blood. Yet something about the situation that was… odd.

She knocked, hoping that his sister just hadn’t heard her over her own music.

“Taylor? Taylor, I’m going for a walk, can you let the parents know where I’ve gone?”

Hazel waited for a response, her ear all but pressed against the door to listen for movement or even a grunt of recognition. But there was none. Only the fainted sound of strangled retching came from within. Her stomach dropped, a million horrible thoughts flying through her head too fast for her brain to comprehend them.

The door banged loudly as it was flung open with force, leaving a faint dint in the wall.

Taylor sat curled in on herself, her face buried into her knees, trying to make as little noise as possible. Hazel stopped herself from breathing a sigh of relief, despite the troubling scene in front of her it was better than what she had expected by a mile.

“Get out! Get out of my room!” Taylor screamed, tears running down her red face as she turned to glare at her.

“Taylor? What’s wrong?” Hazel ignored her, moving further into the room, stepping with caution, as if she were trying to approach a scared animal.

“Nothing’s wrong! f**k off!” Taylor flung a pillow at her, hitting her square in the face. Fortunately, it was only a pillow, Hazel thought.

“No! you wouldn’t leave me if you found me like this, so why should I?”

“Because you’re selfish, you always think of your f*****g self! Why does anyone else matter to you when you’re so f****d up?” She screamed back, her voice roar from crying.

Her face was flushed and hot, her eyes were vibrant as tears trickled down her face relentlessly. Hazel could see the cuts on her arms and how the blood smeared across the bedsheets like some macabre painting. She could see that they were only small cuts, not meant kill like her scars had only meant to cause pain; punishment.

Hazel had no idea how long she had been lying there, but she was already too late. Taylor always prided herself on her composure, her ability to being completely calm even when faced with a looming deadline or scary event like public speaking. It wasn’t often that Hazel had seen her this distort, not even while she was in the hospital. Hazel had just thought that Taylor didn’t care all that much, she didn’t show it after all, so how was she supposed to tell.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hazel asked, trying to be the one that stayed calm to help her calm down.

Hazel admitted that what her sister had said had hurt. She never meant to take up all of their parents’ attention, she had never meant to be the needy one even when her sister could have been going through something herself.

“No. I don’t want to talk about anything with you. Just go for your walk.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

No. f**k off, Hazel,” it was bittersweet, she had used Hazel’s name and yet she spat it out like venom.

“I’m not leaving until you either talk to me or you come for a walk with me.” Hazel huffed, moving to sit at the end of the bed, her arms crossed over her too flat chest.

Taylor moved away from her like she might electrocute her if she touched her. Hiding her bloodied arms, she tucked her legs under her chin again as she looked over at Hazel with bloodshot eyes. She looked like Hazel felt; a whirlwind of emotions she could no longer hold inside her.

Hazel could understand that it had almost been two months since she had trying to end it, but Taylor hadn’t expressed any kind emotion towards her, except maybe apathy. Which Hazel didn’t think it counted. It wasn’t healthy to keep emotions bottled up for that long, Hazel would know. The longer she waited for the most it felt like a nuclear bomb was getting ready to explode inside her head.

“Why did you do it?” Her voice was a whisper, causing Hazel to lean in closer to hear it. Taylor wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at a spot over her shoulder, a million kilometers away.

Hazel’s heart twisted painfully, causing her muscles to tighten, stopping her from leaning any closer to her sister. She felt her face drain of blood, leaving her feeling more than a little light headed.

Of course, August had asked her questions like that when they had talked about it in their garden behind the music building but she had always been able to be vague about it. August knew this and he had accepted that she didn’t have to talk him everything, Hazel only ever told him what she could on the day, things she needed to get off her chest. But Taylor was a different matter, she had been there, she was the one that had found her, lying in a pool of blood. Hazel could even faintly remember a scream, that seemed as though it was part of a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Hazel was really sure.

“I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do,” her voice was just as low, hoping that Taylor wouldn’t hear her, that she would just forget about the whole conversation. But that didn’t happen.

“The ‘right thing’? How could you ever think that that was okay, let alone the ‘right thing’?” She spat back, flecks of venom hitting Hazel’s face. She shoved her arms forward, pushing her bloodied forearms in her face, showing her first hand the damage she had caused. To herself and to the people she loved; the people she was trying to ‘save’.

“I don’t know, that’s just how I felt at the time. I just wanted to end it. I thought I would be helping you; I thought you wouldn’t have to worry about me or care, or…something.” Hazel said, words tumbling over each other like waves in a desperate attempt to get her to understand, to make her.

Hazel wanted her to know that she had done it for her, to save her. She desperately needed to explain that she wasn’t selfish, when she lay there dying, she was becoming a martyr. A scathing voice inside her head told her that she was a liar, and she knew it was telling the truth, though she didn’t want it to be.

After all, she knew what she had done was wrong, she had ruined her family, created rifts that hadn’t been there before. She knew what she had done had hurt them more than she could ever know. But it had to happen. She had to at least try.

“That’s not how it works, Hazel, and you know it!”

“Yeah, I know that now.”

“You f****d up,” Taylor pointed out, still unable to meet her eyes.

“Yeah, I know that too,” she said, tugging roughly at her hair, hearing minuscule snapping noises as the hairs broke from their roots. A tree ripped from the ground. It hurt but she deserved it.

“I was the one that found you, you know that right? You were lying on your bed, in the dark. You looked like you were sleeping, but you weren’t. I thought you were dead.” Taylor whispered, the last sentence becoming nothing but the movement of her lips forming the words and if they were from some foreign language.

“I’m sorry,” Hazel whispered back, reaching out to hold her or comfort her, she didn’t really know.

Back she recoiled like she was a leper, looking at her head on first the first time in their conservation. her face twisted in shock as if Hazel had just slapped her.

“No, I don’t accept your apology, you don’t deserve it, not yet. And you might not ever deserve it.” Taylor snapped standing up and walking towards the door without another glance.

“Where are you going?” Hazel called after her, unable to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

She didn’t know what to do. August wouldn’t talk to her and her sister wouldn’t accept her apology. She had tried everything but nothing was working. She felt like she was slipping backwards again, tumbling down the cliff face as the ledge that she had put her faith in crumbled away from under her. Her eyes burned as her sister stopped in the door frame.

“I’m getting my coat. Going for a walk, want to come?”

Taylor didn’t look back, leaving Hazel to decipher her expression through her voice alone but she couldn’t. Something inside her chest swelled painfully. After all, she had done, after all the s**t her sister had been through because of her, she was still willing to forgive her.

Hazel took a deep breath, telling herself that she needed to let everyone forgive her on their own terms. She couldn’t just apologise and expect everyone to forgive her instantly.

“Yes. But first, we need to get you some Band-Aids.”

“Ethan, could you come over here for a second,” Mr. Thatch called after her as she trailed after the rest of the English class, who swarmed around the door in a mad frenzy to escape.

Hazel couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of her old name. Only people from the school called her that anymore, her close family was all getting used to making Hazel part of their language and corrected themselves if they misspoke. Hazel knew it was her own fault, she hadn’t bothered to talk to anyone at the school so they weren’t to know that Ethan wasn’t her name anymore.

“Yes, Mr. Thatch?” she said, nonchalantly, turning around to face him, letting her books drop from her chest to hold them loosely at her waist.

She wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to talk to her about but she could tell he wanted it to be private; he waited silently for everyone else to leave before he began to speak again.

“I wanted to ask you about your hair, as well as a few other things.” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind telling me why it’s so long?”

Hazel hadn’t really wanted to talk about this with him, or with anyone at the school for that matter. August was the only one that knew but the rest didn’t need to, not yet.

“I want to grow my hair out so I can give it to charity.”

Mr. Thatch didn’t look convinced. She wasn’t very good at lying, it was something she would need to work on in the future.

“Look, I know you’ve been through some rough times lately, but I’ve seen you really engage with the lessons, and I’m really glad about that. I want you to know that you can talk to me or any of your teachers about anything. I might be wrong but I think you can relate to how Viola feels, am I right?”

She blinked at him for a second, bewildered by her teacher’s observation. Hazel had thought he hadn’t paid her any attention, but it seemed she just wasn’t looking. He was correct after all, she was rethinking the idea of gender, just like Viola.

“Yes.”

His eyes sparkled as his smile lines creased, revealing bright white teeth, glad that he had read her correctly.

“Well, you would know more than anyone what she’s going through.” He tapped the board, where the class had made a list of ways in which Viola had changed her body to become more feminine. Bind her chest, cut her hair, lie about her age.

Hazel couldn’t help but tuck her hair behind her ear as they began to burn.

“I don’t know,” Hazel hummed in a jokingly unsure tone. “I’ve never had my brother die in a shipwreck.”

He laughed at that, his smile growing even wider; it was a comforting smile which reached all the way to his eyes. He was one of those teachers who appreciated a good joke about the texts they studied. After all, most of them were so bleak and depressing, you needed something to lighten the mood.

“Was there anything you wanted me to call you? In front of the other students I still have to call YoU Ethan for the time being but did you have any other name you would like me to use?”

It wasn’t a question which Hazel had expected, none of her teachers had even confronted her about it let alone ask her what her new name was. She supposed what he said was fair too, she didn’t want to confuse the other students by having the teacher call out her name when it wasn’t the name they were all used to.

“Yes, my name is Hazel.” She held out her hand and smiled back up at him.