What's In The Box?

A girl walked to into the bustling halls of Emerald High School, people parted her way seeing her hold a box.

A perfect cube box wrapped in brown paper.

An odd box, one student commented to his friend while leaning against a locker. Another students gave a weird side eye, the girl not noticing the whispers or looks. Or she didn't care.

Students rushed by to get to their designated homerooms while others trotted through the cafeteria for the usual helping of frozen eggs and watered down 'coffee'. The girl did not deviate from her predetermined path, for she was on a quest. Steadily, she walked through the freshman and sophomore wings to reach the courtyard, where teen boys ran around within the morning dew to catch a beat up frisbee while prissy teen girls watched. Few noticed the girl and her box, none said anything.

She strode into the upperclassmen cafeteria, where genders mixed and studied, finishing homework due for their first period class while sharing the gossip that occurred over the weekend. A few eyed the sophomore, like foxes protecting their territory, but not one called her out on her actions.

The first bell rang, echoing through the long, winding hallways of the school as students and teachers alike made haste to their classrooms. She knew she would be last to first period, but that was the sacrifice she was willing to make.

Ducking into a bathroom and into a stall, she held her breath and waited. Soon, the warning bell rang, followed by a studious announcement about attendance procedures for today. It was almost time.

A few female students entered the bathroom to quickly leave, only coming in to touch up their wacky eyeliner and take some selfies. Letting out a sigh, the girl emerged from the stall, seeing the truth written in the mirror.

She exited the bathroom, anxiety prickling at her skin as she maneuvered the upperclassmen halls like a pro, finding that locker. Broken, dented to hell, duct tape covered the words. Letting the waves of nervousness wash over her shoulders, she opened the unlocked door, to find dismay riddling the inside. It broke her heart.

**************

A boy sat traumatized in class, unable to concentrate on the lecture being held. He needed to get away.

Watching the clock tick tock its way to 8:15am, he saw his chance. Getting up from his seat, he went for the bathroom pass and left the classroom, already feeling an anxiety attack coming on.

Reaching the gendered rooms, he opened the door for the men's restroom to realize someone was in there. His heart in his throat, he let the door swing shut and went into the women's room.

Alone, he slid onto the floor and cried. He wanted to be normal, but that wasn't an option. Shaking, he clamored over to the mirror and sink to see pain in the mirror.

Words, dragging his dead name through the mud, slurs that gave him nightmares. He felt trapped in a box, forced to conform to the norm of what society wanted him to be. A prissy girl to fawn over showy boys. But he wasn't a prissy girl.

Taking another glance, he noticed words under the hate in a different color lipstick. 'One's identity is what they make of it, not for anyone else to decide.' He reread the words, over and over, providing him the sense of comfort he craved.

After wiping his reddened face, he returned to the hallway, feeling one notch more confident than before, and that's when he noticed.

His locker was ajar, someone had been inside.

Feeling a shiver of paranoia, he approached the locker with a hint of caution, before the door shrieked open.

The brown box sat, patiently waiting for the recipient. Looking both ways down the hall and seeing no one, he sat on the dirt covered floor, pulling the box onto his lap. He admired how carefully it was wrapped and, returning the attention to detail, didn't rip the brown paper away from the cube. Opening it carefully, it showed the black and white striped container, begging for its lid to be opened. Taking one more breath, he lifted the lid.

'A Guide to Transitioning', with goodies and gifts. Notes from long lost friends. Ignoring that he had been out of the classroom for 20 minutes, he sat and read the heartfelt notes, tears running down his cheeks.

The girl peeked out from a corner with a smile on her face. It was the least she could do to help her drifted away best friend.