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My roommate helps me a lot. He’s a good kid, and after all this time, I truly consider him my little brother. He’s unconsciously guided me through my journey of self-discovery. I learned his perspective on being transgender, and although it’s not exactly the same, his perspective aligned similarly to mine. Being in a body you feel you don’t belong in is miserable, but he helped me discover why I felt this way in the first place. He’s a good friend and I hope he considers me a passing storm when I finally leave.
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We’re walking out of class when I notice another pending storm outside. The clouds are looming in and the wind is pushing the trees’ leaves up and off their branches. The sun peaks behind the gray clouds trying to block it out. I didn’t bring an umbrella today, but that doesn’t really matter, since I live close to my school.
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“Bro, you OK?” My roommate steps in front of me, so as to bring me back to reality.
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He turns to the window and points to the sky, “S’been super rainy these past few days, huh? The classroom is always super chilly because of it though.”
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I give him a small smile and begin walking towards the exit of the building, “I’ll make some soup, as a reward for your hard work and because it is chilly.”
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We swipe out at the gate and step outside. He shivers slightly and turns to me, “Hmmm… what kind of soup?”
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“Just the packet soup I brought from home. You’ll like it, I promise.” We head towards our residence hall and stop in front.
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“I’ll eat it regardless. I’m actually gonna grab a snack from the dining hall and head to class, so I’ll see you later!” He starts walking and waving as he heads to the next building. I wave back and turn to head inside my residence hall.
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It’s been 2 years since I’ve met him. I know he’s not picky, but he’s also not afraid to say something is not to his liking.
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Whatever, it’ll give me something to do, I think to myself.
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I walk into my dorm and immediately take off my shoes. It’s pretty quiet, which means my other roommates are gone or holed up in their own room. I put away my jacket, keys and ID before bee-lining it for my desk, where my package awaits me. I ordered a binder a few weeks ago, but had to exchange for a larger size, so I’m excited to finally put it on.
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I’ve pushed back getting a binder for so many years. There are good and bad reasons why, but having it with me now after all this time, feels rewarding. Knowing I’m going to die soon helped me realize I should at least be a little happy before going.
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Luckily, the binder fits perfectly. I throw it into my laundry basket and sit down at my desk again to journal. I make sure to write something for therapy in my journal for every week something feels off, or if something bad just happens in general. Of course, my therapist doesn’t know about the deal, but she suspects I’m planning my suicide with how much emphasis I put on time whenever I talk about my problems. She’s a good therapist.
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My phone starts buzzing suddenly and I look to the screen to see my mom calling.
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Oh shit. I forgot to call her yesterday.
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I slide the answer button, “Hello?”
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“Helloooooo! Como estas? You haven’t called me in so long!” She exaggerates every time I fail to call her or text her at least once a day.
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“I know, Ama. I’m sorry, school’s been making me super busy. How are you?” I smile slightly. My mom is super clingy at times, but I still love chatting with her. She’s wearing her scrubs which lets me know she’s at work but can’t talk for long.
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“I’m good, baby. Just taking my lunch right now. Comiste?” I see her take a bite of her lunch.
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“Not yet, I’m going to make soup soon, since it’s chilly.”
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“OK, good. You’re going to make the packet soup I gave you right? Remember, let it boil for ten to fifteen minutes. Taste it to see how it is too, OK?” She always makes sure I cook things correctly. Especially since the day I made arroz con gandules and it came out too mushy and salty.
“Yes, don’t worry mom, I know.”
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“Alright baby. Call your sister. She’s home right now and she said she hasn’t talked to you in a few days.” She gives me a jokingly stern look.
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We talk for a few more minutes before she tells me she has to go back to work. My mom has worked for as long as I can remember. No breaks, no long vacations, just work. I owe her so much and it hurts knowing I can’t pay her back for her hard work.
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My sister is a different story. I love her to death and she’s my best friend. I hope she can continue without me and grow into someone greater. I feel waves of guilt calling her, and every ring comes with another wave. She’s struggling in her third year of college and thinks she might have to push her graduation back a year. She says it’s OK, since it would save mom some money by only doing something for us once. She thinks I’ll graduate with her.
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The line connects and I see her face pop up, “Hello!”
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“Hey sister. Where’s the baby? I wanna see the baby,” We like to call our dog “the baby”.
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The camera angle switches to a small lump of black fur. His nose comes sniffing in close to the camera and I see his tail wag slightly in the back.
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“Hello buba! You’re so cute!”
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His tail wags harder as he realizes it’s me on the screen. I love him to death.
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My sister takes the camera back to her face, “What’s up? Why don’t you call me anymore?”
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“I been busy, you know. Did you miss me?” I smile slightly.
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“No, just wondering where you been little bitch,” I don’t have a nickname, but my sister branded me “little bitch” a couple years ago. Probably to make me mad, but it stuck.
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My sister is one of the people I wish I was more open to. Then again, there are times I wish she would just shut up. I love her regardless.
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“When are you coming back?” she has asked me that every time I’m on the phone with her.
“I don’t know yet. I have too much work to do.” Lie.
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“So, what I won’t see you ‘till thanksgiving break or something?”
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“Yeah, probably,” Lie.
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She sighs, “How’s your classes going?”
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“They’re fun. I made a few games and whatnot. What about you?” I already know she hates her classes, but I ask anyway to make sure she’s not completely miserable.
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“I’m actually waiting to go into class now,” she giggles.
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“Oh OK. I’ll let you go then. Text me whenever and call me later if you have time,”
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I probably won’t answer anyway.
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“OK, I’ll call you later then. Bye!” She waves at the camera and gives a dimple smile.
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I wave back and end the call.
Emptiness and silence.
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Let’s try to be positive. Think of something good that happened recently, I tell myself.
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Finding things to be happy about is difficult these days. I think hard and back to a few days ago. I went to a concert with my roommate. At the venue I was mistaken for a man twice. I felt a bit of confidence in my appearance after that.
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I take out my journal and write about how much I wish I was a man. How much I want to not be in the body I’m in.
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Life would be so much easier as a man.
I could walk freely at night without
worrying about being attacked. I could
love her…
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I look at the last sentence I wrote and stare at it for a few seconds. Tears well up in my eyes and I feel a pit build in my stomach. The tears never fall and the pit makes me feel nauseous. This always happens when I’m alone. I think too much and I make myself anxious and depressed. As if I don’t already carry a cloud over me, my thoughts make me want to jump off a building into a pool of despair.
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I know I should also call her, to tell her my last goodbye. But not make it so that she’s upset either. I want to call everyone like I usually do. To talk to them about the things we usually talk about. I don’t want it to be obvious that I will die soon. D-day is only a few days away. A week to be exact. In the beginning, I thought it would be easy, but she never let me get my feelings out. If I knew she didn’t like me the way I liked her, I would’ve never agreed to the deal. But I’m here now.
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The jaguar’s voice echoes in the back of my head. On this day 2 years ago, he appeared to me for the second time of my life. The first time was when I was 8 years old, but I thought he was a dream. He appeared to warn me about La Virgen. I thought I was going insane. A week after that day, I prayed to God. While on my knees, I heard the jaguar roar from his place on my shelf. It was his second warning. I should’ve listened to him. I shouldn’t have prayed so much. La Virgen appeared in front of me. She pulled me up and held me against the wall behind me and smirked down at me. Her hands were at my neck and she had a look in her eyes that told me she was itching to kill me. Instead, she looked to the jaguar and her smile turned into a frown.
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“Freeze”
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I swear it was magic. Something like that. The jaguar turned to stone. His original state was a small statue my mom brought to me from Mexico, and there he sat, at the entity's command.
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“You’re praying for money? I’m sick and tired of these types requests. Knowing you can just get a job, but instead you ask for money. Ha! ” She keeps her hands on my neck as she talks down to me. I’m horrified.
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I struggle to talk, letting out only as much as her hands on my neck allow.
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“Oh, you want to talk?” I nod frantically.
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“Speak.” She drops me and approaches me closely. I struggle to catch my breath and back away from her at the same time.
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“W-wait. What are you? Why are you doing this?” I’m panicked at this point. I know I have nowhere to run and if I try to escape, I have a feeling she’ll kill me instantly.
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She laughs at my fear, “You don’t recognize me? You have me on your shelf and all over your house, but you don’t know me?”
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I look to my shelf, where my figures, books, and religious items sit. I look back at her and the dots connect.
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“Guadalupe?”
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“So informal. I am La Virgen,” She gives me an evil smile.
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She looks much darker than Guadalupe. Her statue on my shelf is full of color, where as her actual attire is dark and ominous. Her dress is similar to that of what sits on my shelf. The patterns are similar, but it looks more like a robe than it does a dress. She looks like a grim reaper.
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My hands start to shake and I feel my heart beat pick up. Meeting the devil is not what I was anticipating, “You look more like the Santa Muerte.”
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She scoffs, “Santa? You all named her a saint? I killed her a long time ago, why do people insist on believing in her?”
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I look around to see if there’s any way out. I can’t stay and find out if she’ll spare me or not.
“You’re looking for a way out?” She smirks and chuckles lowly, “Don’t try it, I don’t want to kill you yet.”
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I tense up more and I feel bile crawling up my throat, “What do you want?”
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She glares down at me again, “Respect would be first. But I guess I won’t get that as long as you’re scared,” she sighs, “I’m here for your soul.”
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“My soul?” This sounds straight out of a horror movie. I feel the panic in my voice creep out, “I wasn’t trying to sound greedy with my prayer, I’m sorry! Isn't this a bit harsh for someone who was just asking for money?”
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I don’t know where my confidence to talk so much came from.
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“Ha-ha, your prayer turned to a death wish it seems. And well, I have to inform you what I will do with your soul after I take it. So that's why I'm here. Unfortunately, your death won’t be peaceful,” She inches closer to me, "I'm going to make you my mercenary."
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“I don’t know what any of that means! So I won’t be dead?” I back away from her more. I realize now that she’s burning slightly, and her ash was falling slowly to the ground.
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She rolls her eyes, “Of course you’ll be dead. You’ll just be playing grim reaper, bad luck, karma, etcetera. You will be the reason your family, your friends, and the world is suffering,” she starts to laugh. My panic starts to set in even more.
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I have to be dreaming. This can’t be real. Wake up. Wake up!
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“You’re awake, mi amor. This is real, and I will be taking you now.” She reaches for me again. I try to look for an escape one last time. I briefly glance at the jaguar and come across an opened window. I have enough space in between her arm to escape and jump out. I make a run for it, and swear to myself to never pray ever again.
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“You stupid kid.”
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She grabbed me and takes my face in her hands. She pulls me in and I feel the heat start to burn my cheeks.
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“Wait! Wait! Please, I have to stay, I can’t leave yet. My mom-”
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She scoffs and pulls away, relieving me of the pain.
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“Your mom, your sister, your family! I know, I’ve heard it before. Maybe next time don’t pray to me, the entity in charge of deals and currency, for some cash,” She starts to pull me in, her hot breath burning me again.
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“W-what if we made a deal instead? You said you control deals, right?” I crane my head back to keep her from burning me.
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“A deal? This is the first time anyone has ever wanted to make a deal with me before!” Her eyes light up, and I feel I made another mistake. She looks at my face up and down and proceeds to ponder my request.
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“Alright then, lets make a deal.” Her smile reminds me of Cheshire cat. It's bright and beautiful, but lacks in kindness.
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“I want you to spare me, in exchange for something else.”
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“PFF, you don’t get to make a deal with me. I make the deal, on MY terms!” I had a feeling I would get played.
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She stares at me for a while. It felt like hours had passed while she stared deeply into my eyes. I notice her beauty, and if it wasn’t for her evil intent, she would look like a saint.
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Her smile widens, “You have someone.”
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“Someone?”
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“Someone you love.”
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“Leave her out of this,” I say defensively. She's found out too much in those mere seconds she's looked into my eyes.
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“Ha-ha!” She seems proud to have gotten such a reaction out of me. I’m starting to dread every word she speaks. “But now I will include her! She struggles with her family, am I right? If you don’t agree to the deal, her brothers-” She motions her thumb across her neck. My heart starts beating out my chest. She was the last person I’d ever want involved in this situation.
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“Why-”
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“Hears the deal,” she cuts me off and places me down again. “Make her fall in love with you in 2 years’ time. If you can, I’ll relieve your mom of her debt and you can be happy. If you fail to do so, I’ll drag you down with me, back to my home,” She brings her hand up to my cheek and drags her finger. I flinch and realize she’s burning the side of my face. She turns around and starts to walk towards the window.
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“Wait! This isn’t fair! Why are you involving her? This-”
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She laughs again, disregarding every word I say, “I’ve marked you already, the deal is done! And I promise I won’t make it easy either,” She disappears and her cackle echoes throughout the room.
