Rising Shards

Stella sat with me as I cried, humming gently and rubbing my back, her patented technique for me crying it out.

“I thought I was OK…but I saw Dad and Jeans,” I said. “And…now I’m thinking about it all…”

“Hey, hey…” Stella said. “Shhh…it’s alright.”

“I had a dream about them,” I said, whimpering. “It was a really bad dream.”

“It’ll be OK, I’m here,” Stella said, her voice soft and soothing. “You’re safe here.”

“I maybe…need to ta—” I did the awful silent cry heave. “Talk about this.”

“Go for it, I’m listening,” Stella said.

I did my best to explain the dream, some details gone already as memories of dreams tend to fade quickly.

“And Jeans sounded just like she did when she actually told me…” I said.

“Actually told you what?” Stella asked.

My mental gears froze. I blurted a Jeans thing I hadn’t told Stella. That I thought would upset her. That I couldn’t remember if I said to anyone. That was lost in the blur of orders, demands, love bombs, apologies, rage filled condemnations, and more that Jeans imparted on me.

“When she…said…” I said. “Well, she didn’t really mean, and it was only just once, or maybe a few times—ugh, I don’t know why I’m still apologizing for her.”

“You don’t have to,” Stella said. “You don’t owe her anything. And if you can't say it, don't force yourself.”

After I sputtered for a bit, I knew it’d be better just to say it.

“She told me…that it was a pain when I talked about being trans,” I said. “And how nobody wanted to hear it. And how great it would be when I got my fangs so I wouldn’t have to talk about it…”

I pictured the sandcastle from my dream falling apart again.

“Oh…Zeta…” Stella held me close. “I’ll tell you forever, and then keep saying it, it’s OK. The way you are, the way you told everyone, the ones you didn’t tell, waiting to say it. It’s all OK. I know what it’s like to want to keep something in, and I’m so proud of you for telling those you’re closest to. And I hate that Jeans wanted you to keep it hidden.”

“I know I can’t really blame her for it, because I still chose who I told and stuff, but…” I said. Because it was Jeans, there were times I could vaguely remember where she was more positive about me being trans, but in the few talks we had about it, more were the bad kind. “I think what she told me in  that definitely lingered.”

“I wish you wouldn’t feel so down on yourself about this,” Stella said. “It’s not your responsibility to explain yourself to everyone. You could explain everything, things you’re elated about, things you regret, all of it, over and over to people like Jeans. But that would be a waste of time. She wanted to find your joy and blot it out. But your sunlight kept shining. You don’t owe everyone your entire history. And if you tell them everything and they don’t like it? Screw them. You just have to keep doing you. You’re doing great at doing you.”

“Thank…” I started before crying again.

Any time I vented another layer about Jeans to Stella, I felt a little better.

“I’m sorry I kept all this Jeans stuff from you…” I said, knowing more I kept locked away from that painful time would surface at some point.

“You’re definitely my sister…” Stella sighed. “It’s like our default is to just hope keeping it in and carrying on will make it work. But I’m learning it too. I thought I was protecting you from learning about our parents. In doing that I probably am heavily to blame for you keeping things locked up too, and I’m so sorry for that. It’s better to talk about it, Zeta. Even if it’s messy. We have lots of people who care about us. Who won’t care that it’s messy. Who love us in spite of the messes. And they’ll listen. And they have their own messes too, and we can be there for those.”

“So about our parents. Can…can I talk about them for a bit?” I asked, knowing how tough it was for Stella to even think about them.

“You can,” Stella said. She clenched her jaw instinctively. “I can put what I just said about letting it out into practice.”

I explained the rest of the dream, with the way Mom and Dad loomed over me.

“At the end, right before I woke up,” I whispered, barely able to let the words out. “Mom said my, um...not my name. My...yeah."

"Your deadname." Stella said.

I nodded. "And that never really hurt before. But it hurt so bad in the dream that I woke up.”

“I’m so sorry.” Stella said.

“When Mom and Dad had me in the void, why didn’t they say anything?” I asked. “How was I so stupid to not catch it? How would they know me?”

Stella understood what I meant through my messy heaves. Why did they know a daughter and not…the child they had before they left? Why didn’t I notice their obvious lies?

“Zeta. You were seeing your parents for the first time that you could remember,” Stella said, rocking me back and forth a bit. “It’s fine if you weren’t thinking clearly. They were manipulating you, too. That’s what they do. They lie and manipulate. I’m still unpacking things they said and did to me growing up.”  

“Like what?” I asked, wiping a particularly heavy tear from my cheek.

“Once they tried to convince me I was adopted,” Stella said. “And once that you were adopted. And that time they tried to convince me we were clones of mom. Or clones of...someone else, I have no idea. Another time when they were gone for a long time, they told me a friend of theirs that visited a lot had passed away, but that friend showed up a week later. So many more and some are so bad you probably wouldn’t believe them if I told you. Whenever I figured them out and dared to call them out on it, they said it was just an experiment. It just made me not trust anything they did. And made me constantly on edge.”

“That’s…so stupid,” I said. “Why do that?”

“They’re monstrous,” Stella said. “If you accept that pretty much everything they say and do is a lie, a scheme, a scam, or some combination of the above, they make a touch more sense. Pathological liars and narcissistic Endoran cultists. I don’t know if they’re even capable of telling the truth to each other.”

“Wow…” I said. Things didn't necessarily feel better, but I was starting to see more solid shapes through the mist here. “The first time I saw Dad…I guess first like remembering it, was him as a retention sprite. Where he showed up as his younger self for some reason. That was a lie, too, and some kind of scheme. I guess that could have been where he found out I’m trans.”

“If the retention sprite went back to him, yeah,” Stella said. “They could have made their sprite go out to find their youngest child, it went to you, went back to them, said ‘Hey guess who has a daughter now!’ Or something.” She stopped herself, a gravely serious expression forming. “But that doesn’t matter. However they found out you’re a girl, whether they got it from the sprite or they found records of us living together, if they hacked a database or something, or why they didn’t bring it up to you…none of that is important. It’s not worth it to be hung up on them. You’ll wreck your brain trying to track their lies. I’ve wasted way too much time trying to do just that. And money too. Like the DNA tests just to find out we're sisters and not clones. You have lots more important things to do than fret about them.”

"Did you really get DNA tests for us?" I asked.

"From like three separate places," Stella said. "Never waste a bunch of money on DNA tests, but if you do, especially don't get that third to be sure the first two were accurate."

Stella took a break from hugging me to make a PB&J and get some ice water, a combo that really helped during a long cry.

“All good out here?” Dr. Diast said, peeking out of her office. I realized I had been crying pretty loudly, and probably looked like a mess. “You need some alone time, Zeta?”

“You can come out here, it’s fine,” I said, the peanut butter muffling my words a bit.

“Zeta had a bad dream,” Stella said. “Bad weekend catching up to her. So we’re talking parents, if you want to hear some crappy stories about my crappy childhood.”

“I’m caught up on my homework,” Dr. Diast said.

“Any good tips on dealing with Endoran creeps?” Stella asked.

“Well, don’t listen to anything they say,” Diast said. “Master manipulators, the lot of em. Generally speaking."

I briefly explained my anxieties about my parents again.

“Endoran ‘rituals’ like that rely a lot on their victim being in intense emotional distress,” Dr. Diast explained. “So when they had you in the void, they probably said things to get you comfortable, then found the right words to hurt you to pull the rug out from under you to get the right reaction, because as Cani we release a lot of energy under the right conditions, especially in the void.”

Piecing together how little sense my parents were actually did help them make a bit more sense. It was if they operated on an almost orderly lack of order, all in the name of nebulous plans with whatever they thought Endora was.

“Stella, when you were younger, were they big on the whole ‘continuing the bloodline’ thing? They really got mad when I said I had a girlfriend.” I said.

“Hoo boy,” Stella said, visibly recalling many stories. “They were big on it. If there’s one thing they probably weren’t lying about when you met them, it’s the idea of a heteronormative couple having babies to continue that precious Kathron legacy or whatever. 

"Mouthful of a statement there, Stella." Dr. Diast said.

"I know, very scientific, right?" Stella said.

"You could take my job if you want with verbiage like that."

"I'm good at the library, thanks," Stella said. "Anyways. Mom started excitedly talking grandkids when I turned thirteen. And then I came out at fourteen. And around then they had you, so I think they got the hint.”

“And then I turned out gay too!” I said. “So us Faleur sisters are just dang gay, I guess.”

“That’s right,” Stella said. She thought about it for a second. “But you know. It says something that they’d use one of the few things they don’t lie about just to make you unsettled for their Endoran ritual. It’s an almost impressive amount of spinelessness in the name of constantly lying and hurting people.”

“There’s a certain personality type that goes very easily off the Endoran deep end,” Diast said. “And it sounds like both your parents had it.”

“The best thing we can do about them is distance ourselves as much as possible,” Stella said. “It’s so easy to lose yourself trying to understand people like our parents, like Jeans, and I’m sure Evy has run into plenty like them. It’s better that you hold your head high and be proud of who you are, and don’t let them cloud up your sunshine.”

I sat and thought it all over for a bit.

“Sorry I’m getting upset about all this random stuff,” I said. “You’re probably sick of hearing about it.”

“Trauma doesn’t move in a straight line,” Diast said. “And you’ve had a lot of traumas in a very brief window.”

“Yeah, unfortunately wounds like that don’t heal easily,” Stella said. “But I’m always here for you. And Evy is too.”

Dr. Diast nodded.

“Evy and I were talking about this, and it’s entirely up to you,” Stella said. “But it might be a good time to see a therapist or someone to talk about this. You’ve been through a lot.”

“That would maybe be good, yeah,” I said. “But…let me think about that.”

I took a shower to wash away a bit more of the mental aches. While I showered, my mood shifted from sadness and anxiety to anger. At the twisted things I’d been through, the confusing pains from people I wanted to care for me, wounds I wanted to heal faster but weren’t. When I let that angry cry out under the running water, it didn’t feel cathartic, more like trying to pull a weed out of a garden that’s too prickly to grab well, and falls apart pulling it up, leaving half the weed still embedded in the ground.

Although it hit me there was so much I didn’t understand and many more weeds in the garden of my heart, I was very glad that people who did care about me were in the same house as me, and plenty more waiting for me back at school.