Read Ebook: Identity by Blade Zo Frikki Aiko Illustrator

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Ebook has 102 lines and 7197 words, and 3 pages

"There's a new operation you can have." Her father shifted in his seat. "They came out with it a few years ago."

"It's perfectly safe," assured her mother. "Lots of girls with your condition have had it."

"What kind of operation?" Faye didn't like the sound of this at all.

"It would mean you wouldn't mind your body so much." Her mother looked hopeful. "In fact, you'd welcome its growth."

Faye tried to work out what her parents were getting at. "What kind of operation?" she repeated.

"It has something to do with the way the brain's wired up," said her father.

"Brain surgery?" spluttered Faye, shocked that her parents could suggest such a thing.

"You'd still be you," assured her mother.

"For the most part, anyway," corrected her father.

"Oh, stop scaring her!" scathed her mother. Facing Faye again, she added, "You'd still be the same person. You'd just be... well... a boy."

Before Faye knew what had happened, she'd dashed out of the room. She ran up the stairs, their outline a blurry mess behind her tears, and slammed her bedroom door shut before flopping onto her bed, her eyes buried in her arm.

When she finally let herself sob uncontrollably, it was a relief in a way. She just let go, letting the pain wash over her. The pile of soft toys by her side offered no comfort, their presence suddenly seeming childish. As much as her parents kept on saying how much they loved her, she got the feeling all her mother really cared about was having grandchildren.

"So what did you think of him?" asked Rebecca as she sat on her bed, her back against the wall.

"Who?" asked Faye. She made an effort to stop gawking at her best friend's perfectly curled tresses as she snapped out of her daydream.

"Oh." Faye took the silver disc out of her pocket and handed it to her. "Thanks."

"I dunno." Faye shrugged. "He's OK, I guess."

"It's not like I wanna have his babies or anything," said Faye.

"I like you," pointed out Faye.

Faye made an effort to look away from Rebecca's soft cheeks and her perfect lips. "What's meant to be so good about boys, anyway?"

"Sounds like a long wait." Faye kept her gaze on the floor.

"Faye!" called Rebecca's mother from downstairs. "Your mother's here!"

"I'd better go." Faye stood up. "Thanks for the Fryer episode."

"That's OK." Rebecca looked at her the same way she looked at caterpillars and butterflies, her eyes focused with well meaning curiosity. For a second, Faye forgot to worry about the choice she had to make and about deciding how much she could tell Rebecca and just let herself get lost in her smile.

Faye stared up at her familiar posters of female rock stars as she lay down on her bed in deep thought.

On the one hand, she didn't want to die. She figured the person who'd recover from the brain surgery, however nice he might be and however happy he might become, simply wouldn't be her. Sure, he'd resemble her like a brother might and he'd keep her memories as a strange sort of memento, but he'd have different drives, different ambitions, a different outlook on life. Wouldn't he?

Besides, she couldn't bear the thought of giving a complete stranger, someone who didn't even exist yet, all of her emotional baggage. The memories of trying to cope with her birth defect, of trying to make sense of it, and of being constantly bullied at school because of her differences... she didn't even want this knowledge herself, and the thought of crippling someone else with it made her cringe.

On the other hand, someone else would have a much better chance of actually being happy. He'd still inherit her psychological scars, but not the dozens of physical ones that the necessary surgery would give her. Maybe her childhood would seem as distant and unreal to him as a Digitac episode did to her.

So it boiled down to a choice between growing up to be a woman with low self esteem and a malformed body, and donating the rest of her life to some boy who--strange memories aside--might actually qualify as normal. His life would certainly be easier than hers, especially if he also wanted to date girls.

She grabbed her pillow, hugged it and curled up into a ball. Why did this have to happen to her? She was just a girl trying to lead an ordinary life.

"This is your last chance to change your mind," said the doctor in a soft, sympathetic voice. He put his hand on hers. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Faye looked down at their hands. Her wrist was encased in a light blue bracelet with her name and date of birth printed on it. They'd soon have to change it, she realised.

Of course I'm not sure, she thought. Was anyone? She held back a tear. "Yes, I'm sure," she said, nodding. She just wanted to get it over with.

David opened his eyes. A blurry white light filled the room. Slowly, everything came into focus. He was lying on a hospital bed, soaked with sweat. A fan was perched on the table next to the bed, blowing a gentle breeze of fresh air into his face. He looked around. There was a bag with a liquid in it suspended above him, with a tube running down to his arm. He found a mirror on the table, next to the fan, and picked it up. Holding it in front of his face, he gazed at his reflection.

He could remember everything. Not just Faye's actions, but her innermost thoughts. He remembered the way that some evenings, as she went to bed, she would look down at her flat chest and lack of curves and feel the headache that meant she was about to cry. He even remembered how she'd secretly started to feel about her best friend, Rebecca. Those memories were his now, but the feelings weren't.

Looking down at the outline of the slightly malnourished but otherwise healthy young body hidden beneath the bed sheets and medical gown, he felt no repulsion any longer. Despite the nausea and the overwhelming feeling that he needed to get some rest, in a weird sort of way, he felt fine for the first time in his life. It was finally over.

As he walked up to Rebecca's house, David scratched the scar on the back of his head. He still wasn't used to the feeling of the short bristles of hair against his fingers. He pressed the doorbell and waited.

Rebecca's mother answered the door, but she didn't greet him with enthusiasm like she usually did. Instead, she looked at him like she was expecting him to introduce himself.

"Hi. It's me, David," he said. Seeing no hint of recognition in her eyes, he added, "Henley."

"Oh." She seemed taken aback. "Of course. Please, come in." She opened the door wider and turned around to face the stairs. "Rebecca! Your friend's here!" Turning back to face David, she assured him, "I'm sure she won't be long," before disappearing into the kitchen.

David waited in the hallway until Rebecca finally crept down the stairs, coming to a stop half way down the staircase. She looked almost afraid. It made David's stomach hurt, to know that he was the cause of the pained look on her face.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi." She squeezed her arm as if she was nervous.

"You haven't been to see me or anything," he said. "You still like me, right?"

"Oh." David didn't know what else to say.

"I guess I didn't see it that way. I was hoping we could still be friends." David looked at Rebecca, but her eyes seemed sharp and cold. "You know, like you and her were. You and me, I mean. I still remember everything, you know. How you'd laugh together, or swap secrets about boys."

"Yeah, well not anymore, OK?"

David stood in silence, trying to think of something to say to make it all better. Deep down, he knew there was nothing he could say or do that could change how Rebecca felt.

"So is this it?" David eventually asked. "Is this how we're going to say goodbye? You meant everything to her."

Rebecca paused, as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure if she should. Finally, she said, "She loved me, didn't she?"

David nodded.

Rebecca looked straight ahead as if she was talking to the front door. "I loved her too, I think. Despite everything." She turned to face David. "That's why it hurts to look at you."

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