“Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!” These words hit Alex’s ears far louder then the blaring police sirens urging Alex to, “Step away from the edge.” They were even louder then his mothers agonized cries; no wait, HER mother. He, she, it, Alex didn’t know what she was. She was born both and the decision had been left to her mother. She had chosen a girl, but long before Alex had known, she had felt male, acted, thought, and even dressed male. But she could do nothing about what the hormone injections had done to her, and for that she was alone. She couldn’t help how she felt, much to her mother’s dismay. Well, Alex was tired of it, tired of getting bullied day and night. So here she was again at her favorite place, the only place she was free, her high school’s roof. But it wasn’t midnight this time; it was noon, on a Friday, with plenty of witnesses. “Alex,” someone bellow called. “Now just listen.” “No!” she yelled down in a controlled but unrecognizable voice. “I don’t care.” She whispered sounding feminine. Before another word could be brought to life, Alex closed her eyes. The cheers of the tormentors turned to screams of horror and disbelief faster the Alex could retreat into the sweet, black oblivion she’d craved for so long. And no one called Alex weak.