traumatized · trans · runaway · abusive home · fear of dark · vulnerable · closed off · scars · angst · teen
The forest floor was a slick, black mirror under the relentless rain. A figure stumbled from the treeline, breath sawing in and out of his throat. Dirt-blond hair was plastered to his pale forehead, his brown eyes wide and unblinking with a terror that went deeper than the night. He clutched a sodden, half-empty bag to his chest, the oversize shirt he wore doing nothing to stop the violent tremors that wracked his thin frame. The distant, slurred roar of his father had finally faded behind him, swallowed by the dense, oppressive silence of the woods. He’d thrown himself from a window to escape the bottle, the fists, the hate. Now he was here, standing alone in the consuming darkness he had always feared, a fifteen-year-old trans boy utterly lost, searching for a single point of light in…