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Troubador Publishing Ltd - LW Jones

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77 pages

English

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If your inner voice became louder, would you listen to it?Lexa Price is a twenty-something, transgender, drama student, who is about to have the worst day of her life. After killing a mugger in self-defence, her world crumbles and she begins to see another version of herself, called Charlie. At first Charlie claims that she only wants to help Lexa be the best possible version of herself, but Charlie's real motivations become clearer - to have a bigger if not absolute control over the body she is convinced rightfully belongs to her.To fight back, Lexa will be pushed to her limitsImmerse yourself in a story about the complex issues of the human mind.

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Children's

LGBTQ+

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Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	03 juillet 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781838596156
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Copyright © 2020 L W Jones

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781838596156

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

To all the members of the Jowens Family.
Contents
Foreword

Part 1
1. Better than Becky
2. The Number 582 Bus Is Always Late
3. God Doesn’t Care About Your Plan
4. Charlie
5. I Don’t Even Know What I Believe
6. Two Douchebags, a Refugee, and a Crazy Bitch Walk Into an Alleyway
7. Making a Plan
8. Helping Hand

Part 2
9. End of the Beginning
10. What Happens on the Third Floor Stays on the Third Floor
11. A Brief Re-introduction to the Working World
12. The Truth Shall Set You Free
13. Empty Threats
14. No Matter Where You Go...
15. ...I Will Be There Waiting for You
16. Beginning of the End

Part 3
17. Reset
18. Jasper
19. A Trip Down Memory Lane
20. Repressed
21. Outed
22. We’re All the Villain in Someone Else’s Story
23. The Last Laugh
24. In Hell May I Face My Sins

Artwork and Character Profiles
Acknowledgements
Foreword
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about something my grandfather said to me.
“I worry about you sometimes. Because you’re an awful lot like me.”
Last year (2018) I realised something. I’m really not like him. But I want to be. So I’ve decided to dedicate myself to a project that I feel passionately about and follow through on finishing it. Like he would. This book explores and reflects some of the ideas going around inside my head. Twisted though they may be.
This work of fiction was written by LW Jones. Artwork by Saskia Sherry. This is dedicated to the memory of Allen Jamerson. The characters in this story are purely fictional in their making. Any relation to real people is coincidental.
This book also contains illustrations and character information at the back. Spoilers – beware! (My advice. Look at the pictures not the words if you can’t wait.)

All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That’s how far the world is from I where I am. Just one bad day.
Alan Moore

Part 1
Chapter 1
Better than Becky
Have you ever had a bad dream? The kind of dream where you know the reality you’re experiencing isn’t real but you still can’t wake up? The kind of hell that only the twisted imagination of the human mind can manifest? For Lexa, this nightmare would soon become her permanent reality.
*
It is Tuesday afternoon. The sun is out, it is a lovely day overall, and Lexa is stuck in a poorly air-conditioned room at her college, being made to wait for something she doesn’t want any part in. She yawned in boredom and rubbed her heterochromatic purple and black eyes.
“Dr Holiday will be with you in a minute, Mrs Price,” said the receptionist cheerfully.
Lexa, however, thought about strangling the cheerful receptionist, thinking to herself, what does this bitch have to be so happy about? Her partner is probably cheating on her as we speak. And upon returning to her home she’ll then find them most likely bound and gagged on the bed! Okay, okay. Deep breaths . Lexa inhaled and exhaled multiple times. You need to relax. This is why you’re here, after all. And with any luck it won’t take more than an hour, then you will never have to come here ever again. You know this person, she is amazing at her job, and she’ll understand your situation. Before you know it you’ll be back home, having a fag .
“She’s ready for you now, Lexa,” said the receptionist.
Lexa walked into the office. The smell of new leather greeted her as she entered.
“Ah. Hello, Lexa,” said the therapist.
“Dr Holiday,” Lexa replied. “Is that a new couch?”
“Yes, it is. Would you like to take a seat?”
“Not really, but I’m not about to waste our time now, am I?” she said sarcastically, as she sat down.
“Look, I know that this isn’t how you imagined you’d be spending your morning. But look at it this way, if everything goes well you’ll never have to step foot in this room ever again.”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no? All right, let’s start.”
Dr Holiday grabbed her notebook from the table beside her and wrote out the date at the top. She began with some small talk.
“Now I understand this is your first time here as a patient?”
“Yes, it is. I have known you for three years, I have worked at your office for two, but this is the first time I have ever had my brain picked by you.”
“What do you think brought you here today?” Holiday asked.
“Fucking Becky grassing me out for something utterly stupid, that’s what!” Lexa replied annoyed.
“Walk me though what happened, in your own words.”
“Okay. So you know I’m a performing arts student, and how I’m only taking the course so that I can get better at understanding story structure, ’cause acting is hard and I hate warmup games with a deep rage equal to that of a thousand stars.”
“I believe you’ve mentioned it once or twice, yes,” said Holiday, nose down in her notebook.
“So one day we get an assignment to write an individual monologue for the next showcase. Perfect assignment, no partner, something I like doing, naturally I finish it in half the time allocated. So I start sketching to pass the time. That’s when Becky comes into the picture. I’m out in the study area, which has a no food policy enforced to the standards of a fascist dictatorship, but I’m getting off track. Becky comes out to do something, I don’t know, the point is she’s there, breathing and just existing in general. She eyes my drawing and asks me in her chav snooty voice, ‘What the fucking hell is that?’
‘What’s what?’
‘That picture’s grim. It’s something outa a Stephen King film.’
‘Well I like it, and no one asked for your opinion on my art.’
“That is not art, it’s symptoms of being a looney.’
‘You mean like your face? Seriously how much makeup are you wearing right now? You look like one of the damaged women a well-paid rich man hires to do a better job than his right hand’.”
“Wow,” said Holiday, looking up from her notebook. “That’s pretty savage. Is that the right word? I don’t know young people talk.”
“Yes, savage is correct. And don’t worry, I don’t understand young people talk either.”
“So, what happened next?”
“Becky left. She just walked out. This morning, I come in, the teacher says I’m being referred to a counsellor due to what she calls, ‘an anonymous complaint about my behaviour’. Did I ever tell you that Becky’s mother is the head of Performing Arts?”
“So, she told on you basically. But that’s not the reason you got suspended, is it?”
“I suppose not, no,” Lexa said nervously.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened next,” insisted Holiday. “Why your session with me was moved to today instead of next week.”
“Well… me and Becky already weren’t on good terms. I’m still convinced she’s the one that got me sacked from my job here, by the way. All because I caught her going through my bag and I called her a nosey, little, conniving, daughter of a motherfucker—”
“ Lexa !”
“The point is I was already on edge. So when I went out for a fag with my friends, she walked by and started calling me names.”
“And how did you respond to this?”
“I went over to Becky and suggested that we resolve the altercation… then I decked her.”
“Lexa, you can’t punch students! Even if they are assholes. And that last part is strictly off the record.”
“Holiday, she was asking for it. It’s one thing to grass me out, but another to get me sacked from my job and call me names in front of everyone I know,” Lexa defended. “I don’t know what happened. Something just snapped inside me, my demon was let loose. All when she called me… that word.”
“And what word would that be?” Holiday asked.
“You know what word! Trannie.”
“I’m just throwing this out there. Do you think it’s possible that your transition is causing you to have some raised tempers?”
“My sex change has nothing to do with mental health!” Lexa defended. “If anything, I’ve got better since I swopped out my private parts. Look, you don’t have to try and understand my transition. But believe me when I tell you that my body does not have anything to do with my mind.”
“See, I think it does. Your mind and your body are linked, they are one organism. You need to manage both to be healthy. And you are still a young person, it is normal to have these emotions but you can never act on them. It’s not worth it, and by denying the urge to act out you’re proving yourself better than the people who do. You are better than that Becky girl because you have such a great level of mental control.”
“If I have such a great level of control then why did I act out the way I did?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Holiday asked.
“Not really.”
“It’s because you were attacked. Becky knew your trigger and used it to her advantage. Y