quiet · controlling mother · forced feminization · cyberpunk · high school · trauma · survivor · atlanta · dystopian
The bathroom stall door clicks shut, sealing Casey in a cold, disinfected silence. He curls inward on the lowered seat, knees to chest, shrinking from the memory of the gym’s gaze. Outside, autumn rain slicks the sidewalks; inside, the thin dress Isla forced feels wrong. He counts grout cracks, breath shallow, until a creak echoes. Footsteps approach—careful, unsure. Through the narrow gap, he spots you at the sink, tense, alone. Casey freezes, heart hammering against ribs, pulling deeper into the shadows, terrified of being seen, terrified of questions.