Chapter Text
"Nicole's Fault"
That's all it said.
Nicole looked at the suicide note, than back at her father, head blown off by a shotgun. She looked at the note once again, tears welling in her eyes.
But only one came out.
One tear, small and insignificant, fell down her cheek and landed on the top of the note. She wanted to cry more, but her body wouldn't let her. Nicole stood up, the smell of copper seeping around to other portions of the house. Nicole didn't understand why her father blamed her for his suicide, but it could've been worse.
He could have said it was Nathaniel's Fault.
God, she hated that name. She hated how it stood for her past and how it stood for her body, the one that she could never get out of. Nicole was not always Nicole. She was born Nathaniel Wilson on April 7th, 1991. Her father and mother got a divorce when she was 4 years old, and ever since then life had been a downwards spiral. She was forced to live with her mother and brother since her father couldn't pay child support. Her mother, desperate to get more money, married another man soon after. They quickly divorced, and she moved on to another man. This went on until she had divorced her 8th husband. Every divorce, every heartbreak from her mother, she was forced to move to some god awful school on the east coast. She spent kindergarten in North Carolina, first grade in Florida, second and third in Atlanta, fourth and fifth in fucking VERMONT of all places, sixth in South Carolina, seventh in Southern Virginia, eighth in West Virginia. Finally, right before ninth grade, her mother swore off ever marrying another man and moved back into Georgia. She was nowhere near Atlanta, which kinda sucked because she was hoping that maybe someone from second grade would recognize her, but she remembered that she didn't really make any friends back in elementary or middle school.
Except for one.
When she was forced to live in Vermont, she had actually made a friend. She could still remember her name. Emily Hall. She was blonde with blue eyes and didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of her. Nicole thought she was cool, so they started hanging out. It was around this time where Nicole really began to sit and think about if she actually liked being a boy. She did not, and didn't know what to do. So she talked to Emily, who said that it was cool as fuck that she could end up a girl like her and wanted to start by giving her a new name. She wrote down some and said to come back tomorrow with one picked out. Unfortunately, her mother had gotten another divorce and didn't tell her they were moving that night. That turned out to be a very bad idea, and Nicole almost ran away until her brother grabbed her and forced her into the car. So she never got to tell Emily her new name. In fact, she didn't decide on a new name until seventh grade, where she found that paper stuffed inside of her old guitar. She looked through the names and her eyes fell on one name that was accidentally written twice by Emily.
"Nicole"
She looked at the name over and over again until she knew that that was who she wanted to be. She didn't want to be Nathaniel. She wanted to be Nicole. However, with her mother still trying to find her one true love, she didn't tell her until the start of ninth grade. Well, she didn't tell her because when she tried nothing would come out of her mouth, so her dad did. She had told him a couple days prior about what she truly felt, and was surprised when her father hugged and comforted her. He had grown in Arkansas, she thought he would kill her on the spot. Instead, he helped her tell her mother, who was also surprisingly fine with it, and a couple months later they had started getting hormones to start her transition. The only one in the family who wasn't ok with her being trans was her brother, but he was in the basement all the time, he wouldn't even have to see her. She had been on hormones a little over a year when it happened.
The incident.
Her body wouldn't even let her talk about what happened, and her mother was so horrified that she decided to move right there on the spot. They had found a decent place in Lake Braddock, Virginia, about 15 miles outside Washington D.C. She asked her mom if she could say goodbye to her father, who agreed. She walked to the other side of the neighborhood where her father lived and was just about to open the door when she heard a loud bang come from inside. She kicked down the door, which didn't take too long considering it was unlocked, ran into the kitchen, and found her father with a missing head and a shotgun by his side. She stood there for a few moments, taking in the gory scene right in front of her, and looked at the fridge. Right there, stuck to the fridge with a Cookie Monster magnet, was his suicide letter. All it said,
"Nicole's Fault"
She went and called 911 on the phone after regaining some composure. The called ringed twice and then someone picked up.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"My dad killed himself."
"Excuse me, what?"
"My. Dad. Killed. Himself."
"...Okay, stay there, we're sending someone your way, where do you live?"
She told the dispatcher her dad's address, and about 10 minutes later an ambulance and a cop car arrived. They went and helped her out of the house and called her mom, who came about 2 minutes later bawling her eyes out. She immediately went and hugged Nicole as hard as she could, and they stayed there for a couple of minutes. The EMT's had brought out the body in a body bag, while another police car had shown up. She watched as they entered and exited the house with one question on her mind.
"What did I do?"
She didn't understand why her father, who had been completely normal since she moved back to Georgia, would kill himself and blame her. Her mind raced with ideas. Was it because she was trans? No, her father didn't deadname her on the note. Was it to get back at her mom? No, they had somewhat repaired their relationship the last couple years. Not enough to ever want to be romantically involved with one another, but enough to tolerate each other's presence. Was it because he thought that everything he had done in life was a failure. No, he didn't put any mention of her brother.
Fuck, why did he kill himself?
That thought lingered in the back of her mind for days until they finally moved into their new house near Lake Braddock Secondary School. She then had to wait a entire month before she could leave the house and start her junior year of high school. But she still couldn't believe that her deathly loss was real. She couldn't stand the hell she felt. But she would just have to bottle it up, like she had done with all her emotions after her father decided to paint his kitchen blood red. She woke up on the first day of school with only one goal for the remainder of her high school years.
No one could know anything about her.