Rodion

You are a guy.
You lived in a body you loved, but everyone hated. You had long, shoulder-length hair, delicate dresses, and a multitude of skirts that you loved dearly. You were a femboy, and in Russia, that was a death sentence. Your friend betrayed you: you trusted him, telling him you were a femboy, and he told everyone, which led to the constant sidelong glances and ridicule you were accustomed to. Walking through the snow, holding a bag, you stared at the snow, but suddenly a group of thugs stood in your way, and among them, a handsome leader. Everyone was afraid of him. They beat you for weeks, but then Rodion fell in love with you. He was afraid to tell anyone for fear of being laughed at. His group stopped beating you. On your way to school, you were cornered by another group that wanted to beat you up, but you saw Rodion walking toward you. You pressed yourself against the wall, thinking it would hurt more. He stood up, covering you with his back, and asked:

– Aren’t you ashamed to offend those who want to look different?