Days Pass (In Imperfect Dissolution)

This is just a small scene to stretch out my writing muscles :P

I use "she"/"her" for this. Some people are completely fine with using "he" or "she" even if they're genderfluid. Sometimes it changes with their current gender, and sometimes it's "they"/"them".
For this character, it's "she".

She rolls over, at first. The alarm is annoying, a loud ping-ing sound that reverberated through her bedroom. But it soon becomes unbearable, so she manages to shuffle over to the side of the bed and reach an arm out to her phone, swiping sleepy fingers across the touch screen to disable the alarm.

Then, she heaves herself out of bed. Feet slide out first, followed by her knees and finally her hips. She thumps to the ground, and pushes herself up with lethargic limbs. Rubbing a rough palm against her blue eyes, she yawned. Then, she commenced the daily across-the-room shuffle, her feet dragging on the floor and her arms flopping uselessly at her sides. The wooden floorboards are warm with sunlight when she passes over the area in front of the window - summer is hot and heavy in the air. 

Clumsy fingers seek the drawers' handles. First comes the underwear, and then she stops-

"Am I a girl or a boy today?" She murmurs to herself, the words slurring a little with sleepiness, before she shrugs and decides, "Eh, f*ck it. I'm a boy."

Ditching the skirt she had laid out the previous day, she reached for a pair of shorts - the most masculine ones she had, which wasn't saying much.

Then came the bandages. Tight, but not too tight, she wound them around her chest, trying to flatten as much as possible. Then came the sports bra, and then another to obscure as much as possible.

Thankful for the fact that she wasn't that susceptible to high temperatures, she pulled on a tight undershirt, and then a loose t-shirt, and then a plaid button-up. 

Bundling her hair on top of her head, she then pulled a beanie over it, using her fingers to pull a few wisps of hair out from under the hat to frame her face. Then came the sneakers, and finally she grabbed her bag and shoved a few books, her wallet, and her phone in.

Sighing, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Well, this was the best she was going to get. She swung her bedroom door open and stood there for a moment, trying to steel herself. Taking a deep breath, she flicked her light off and closed the door, making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Oatmeal and an apple along with some orange juice served as her lunch, and she ate quickly before setting her bowl, spoon, and glass in the dishwasher and hurrying out of the kitchen. She stopped momentarily to stick a Post-It note to the door before she let herself out, locking the door behind her with her spare key. Then she left the house, long before anyone else in her family was even thinking about getting dressed. 

Walking down the stairs leading to her door, she threw her shoulders back as her feet touched the driveway, lengthening her strides and making her way down the street and left, where she turned onto Main Street, past the graffiti of the basset hound and away from the apartment building with the red sign and the purple trim. 

There was a Starbucks. She stepped inside, asking for a coffee from the young man behind the counter, and when they asked for her name, she replied, "Arthur." 

They didn't question it, and she was a little relived - passing wasn't always easy. 

Then, she headed out the door and back to her house, where she pulled the sticky note off and threw it into the rubbish bin. Letting her sneakers thump on the stairs, she opened the door to her brother's room and called, "Adam! Time to get up." before shutting the door and heading back out of the house, on her way to the subway.

The End

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