Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

trees, he liked how caring Grace was, when she brought a cup of steaming tea to Ted who’d been working hard all day in the yard. He enjoyed the little gestures Ted gave out, kissing her hand, mouthing his thanks and how much he loved her.

His new parents were gentle, polite and understanding of his problems. They treated him like a normal kid and he loved them for it. They took him to the mall, the arcade, the movies, let him gorge himself on popcorn. In his previous life, he lived on an existence of meat, vegetables and water. He wasn’t allowed to have fattening sugary foods and drinks. A repetitive gruel of a routine he enjoyed breaking. There were times when he questioned his new family - their unlimited generosity, their willing compassion to take care of a nuclear bomb in human form. Isaac still had nightmares, waking up in a sweat, petrified that the men and women in white coats would catch him, having to go on the run again through forests and persuading another family crazy enough to take a fucked-up child into their hearts.

When it was his birthday, his mom and dad threw him a party and for the first time, he had friends attending, playing games, eating cake, watching him open his presents.

As Isaac moved into high school, he fell in love with video games like Spyro and Crash Bandicoot and the power of rock music. He obsessed over bands such as Nirvana, Metallica, The Red Hot Chilli Peppers and so many others. His dad bought him an acoustic guitar one year and offered to pay for lessons. Isaac declined, indulging in the solitary relaxation of his bedroom, letting his voice roll deep and free as he strummed.

He decided to mould his appearance on the songwriter and musician, Joan Jett. She was the front woman of The Blackhearts and one of the vital components of The Runaways. Joan owned virtually everything she did and she produced some kick ass tunes. He figured Cameron was a tomboy, the punk style had been really big in the eighties with great movies like The Breakfast Club - so he tailored his look to their standards.

Puberty was a major blow. He noticed he was staring at girls more often and he’d forget himself, especially at school. Then he started dreaming about what they smelt and tasted like, waking up with a sticky white puddle between his legs. He jerked off, masturbating seemed to help ease the tension, disarming his passions. He learned the sock technique from Christopher and Travis, Cameron pretended to peep elsewhere and smoke when they chatted about their erotic escapades. Isaac was making secret notes. He’d hide the soiled socks deep in his laundry basket covered by other clothes hoping his mom wouldn’t find out. So far, she hadn’t, unless she was keeping a respectable face. Moms and dads did that for their children.

He experienced kissing a girl for the first time at a party, well it wasn’t his first kiss, he didn’t count the one outside the cabin. That was before his new life started. They were having a sleepover in Travis’s basement when they played truth or dare, spinning an empty bottle when it landed on a friend of a friend. She was cute with sugar spun hair and she wore cherry lip gloss.

Then it was dealing with the erections. How do you conceal a hard on when you’re wearing female clothing? How do you not stare in the changing rooms when everyone is getting undressed when you’re meant to be a part of the crowd?

Girls jeans were so tiny and tight with nowhere to put anything. He had to carry everything in a rucksack sometimes. His mom came up with the idea and bought him some baggy pants.

“I’ve seen some of the kids wearing these in the skate park,” Grace had pondered. “Thought you might like them seeing as you said your other pants are getting tight. Plenty of girls wear them too, so you’ll be fine.” Isaac didn’t tell her the honest truth, the same as any adolescent he didn’t want his mom to know he was becoming sexually active.

Isaac realised if he clocked a girl, Cameron clocked the girl too and then he heard the rumours going around about Cam’s hotness for girl-on-girl action. He denied it. Not there was anything wrong, if it was twenty years prior, he’d be in serious trouble. There were some gay students in his year, he’d seen the shit they received on a daily basis. Isaac didn’t want attention, he needed to swim under the radar. Was being gay really a reason to hate someone? Did people not have their own problems to focus on?

When Isaac turned seventeen, he got his first tattoo, using the money from his savings. He planned to get more. He didn’t tell his parents or his friends he was doing it. He designed it himself and presented it to the artist.

“From self-harm?” the guy asked, observing his scarred arm.

Isaac nodded. Well, Cameron nodded. He was getting used to telling so many lies by now.

“Sorry about that, honey. I can see why you want these covered.”

He wanted to smile when the artist gave his arm a prod with the tattoo gun and he didn’t wince. It was even funnier when he hardly bled.

Another plus about living in Cameron’s skin was that Isaac was able to unleash some of his urges. When he’d been participating in hours of cardio every day since he could remember, the discipline didn’t slide overnight. His mom educated him about the wonders of yoga so Isaac kept himself conventionally healthy, he wasn’t the type just to sit. If he was, it’d be playing Resident Evil or typing on his computer, he loved coding. He participated in school sports, maybe the occasional run but he cut the exercise right down. He'd revel in the challenges guys and girls hurled at him. Not that he’d hit a girl, Cameron