I flew to Hawaii, anxious for the future. I didn't know what would come of all this, I felt like all my ideas for a career and for my life had been torn down. I couldn't go to school immediatley because it was too late to register, so I opted to get a job and work for a while. I hoped to save up enough money for the software and devices I needed to make music. I landed a job at a pizza place in downtown Honolulu, and I rode a bike there every day to serve customers. The work was monotonous and fast paced, and I didn't really like it. I wished I hadn't been attacked and injected, I felt like my brain damage would be a barrier to entry for better jobs. I knew I didn't want to work somewhere like this for the rest of my life.
I started getting fewer and fewer hours, it seemed like they only needed me to work at the busiest times of day. They often told me to wait to clock on or sent me home early. I applied for another job at a local halal health food restaurant close to the University. I was accepted, and I became eager to train. This place was much more interesting, with a variety of foods ready to eat and a large menu of catering items. I served food for months, saving money and enjoying the tropics as my brain and body healed. Hawaii felt very isolated, and I didn't like it as well as the rest of the states. It seemed like there was no where to go, nothing new and no adventure. Work kept me busy, but I was anxious to leave.
I spent my free time learning to skateboard, forgetting my musical talents and travelling the city by board. I even skated to work some days, which was nearly faster than driving in the traffic. Before I knew it school had started and I left my job, going to class and staying in the dorms at the University. I liked my roommate and dorm mates, but it was still awkward being intersex and being older than most of the other people there. The campus was full of young people, and though I looked young, I wasn't the same. I didn't fit in.
Even though I was a misfit, people were on my side. I was still missing my female organs at this point, but I knew who had them. I talked about it, and so did other people. People were outraged that I had been mutilated and never given surgery to fix it. After much patient waiting, I was given surgery and I recieved my remaining female organs, my uterus and ovaries. I was nearly all in one piece. The thrill was immense. I was nearly whole again, and I wouldn't have to face the setback of having a hormone imbalance due to missing organs. I could pursue my dreams now. I could make music. Immediatley as I felt the effect of my organs, I felt young again, and everything felt better. Music sounded better to me. Food tasted better. I felt like my life was nearly complete.
Eventually I moved to a different dorm room, and things began to feel uneasy. I didn't get along with some of my dorm mates, who thought I was too different and shouldn't be there. I couldn't attend the University where Jerry was teaching. I was bullied until finally I gave in, sold the stock I had bought from working, and flew to Seattle.
I didn't have money. I hadn't had much support from my foster family since I had gotten back to Hawaii, so I had been providing for myself. I wanted to stay at a homeless shelter, and they said I could, but after my day of work delivering food on foot, I made it to the shelter too late to check in. I decided I needed a different job, so I went to a military recruiting office, but it was far too late to enter. I settled down for the night, and then someone approached me with a gun.
I tried to get up, and I was shoved to the ground. The person jammed the gun into my mouth, and I could barley recognize them through crying eyes. I pushed at them, trying to get them to remove the gun and they pulled the trigger. I fell back, crying that I was innocent and had done nothing wrong, and I blacked out.
I woke up in the morning, in the same place, with a dry puddle of blood next to me. I assumed I had gone to the hospital because I couldn't feel the bullets in my neck, but I had no way of knowing. Everything hurt. I was freezing cold. My throat was swollen and sore. I got up, tried to call the office, and they told me to go to a different office. I took the bus with what little money I had left, to no avail. The military didn't want someone who had so recently been shot.
I talked to some family on the phone who lived in the area, and they were willing to give me a place to stay. I met them in Seattle and ate with them, which was incredibly painful. It hard to accept their offer, as I knew their home wasn't the safest place for me, but I accepted as I had no other chocie. I drove back with them to my new home in Everett Washington.< Chapter 26 Chapter 28 >