A world of white
It gradually grew brighter before my eyes. I couldn't see clearly, but I was sure this wasn't a hospital ceiling. There were no glaring lights, no beeping monitors. The last thing I remembered seeing seemed to be white like this too, only much more blinding. Someone had been shouting something, but the voices kept getting farther away. My mouth still tasted salty and bitter, and I couldn't quite catch my breath. I struggled to open my eyes. Everything around me seemed white; I couldn't make anything out, and there was no ground. Where was this?
The child crying at the door
I tried walking. It was strange: my feet weren't touching anything, but I didn't feel myself falling either. I looked down and couldn't even see my feet, as if this place had never needed a ground in the first place. More confused than ever, I shouted, “Is anyone here? Anyone?” After a long time, I thought I heard a small child crying. I followed the sound. My body gradually gained weight, and suddenly something hard pressed against the soles of my feet, as if the ground had only just appeared when I reached this spot. “Where is this?” Colors finally appeared around me, breaking up the endless white, but I couldn't focus; I couldn't see anything clearly. I heard the child's crying, mixed with sobbing, curses, car horns... My head was spinning. Not being able to focus felt awful, as if countless layers had been blended together. I walked a little farther toward the crying, and finally saw a small child crouched at a doorway, weeping. The rusty iron gate was shut, patches of red paint flaking off it. The scene felt familiar, but where was this? I walked up to the child and asked why they were crying. They looked up. “Big sister, my mum and dad don't want me anymore. They say I'm disobedient and they're getting divorced. Waaa...” “Big sister?” I froze, instinctively looking down at myself, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't make out the shape of my body. Oh well. Big sister it is. I answered, “Have a hug, meow. Why do they say you're disobedient? Can you tell your big sister?” The child rubbed their eyes and sniffed. “Big sister, why aren't boys allowed to cry? I only like playing with the girls in my class, and the boys bully me for it. They corner me in the toilets and beat me up. I still have scars... They laugh at me for not having a mum or dad too. My parents are always away working.” Their face looked so familiar. They really didn't look much like a boy, though. Pretty cute. I like them, meow. “Big sister, are you still listening?” “I am, I am.” “Thank you for listening to me. I told Mum and Dad I was being bullied, and they said I deserved it because I cry so much. What good would I ever be, acting like a girl? They said, ‘We don't have a son like you.’ But big sister, I really can't be what they want. I... I'm useless. I'm weak and always ill, I like girls' things, and I can't fight those boys. All I can do is take the beatings. I can't do anything...” I moved closer and held them in my arms. “Who says boys aren't allowed to cry?” “Everyone says so.” “Then they're wrong.” “But big sister, I really don't seem like a boy.” “So what if you don't?” I stroked their head. “Being a girl is great (just kidding, cry if you want to. If they bully you again, tell your big sister. I'll teach them a lesson.” The child paused, then finally smiled a little. Their tears rubbed against the corner of my mouth, so salty, so bitter. Suddenly the rusty gate opened, and two blurry faces appeared, shouting that if the child wanted to cry, they should go somewhere else instead of embarrassing them at the door. But they didn't seem to notice me at all. Better run. Huh? Why was I running? It just felt... let's run first.
The child later on
Everything blurred again, though I could tell that many scenes were overlapping. Space here didn't follow ordinary logic. It was hard to explain how to get around; all I could do was listen for sounds and work out their direction. “Each muted note upon the strings was steeped in thought, as though recounting a lifetime of thwarted hopes; with lowered eyes, her fingers...” The memory of what had just happened was hazy, but I'd never forget this poem for as long as I lived. Wasn't this “Song of the Pipa,” the one we had to memorize? Such a pain to learn. Sigh, the college entrance exam. Sigh. I seemed to be remembering a few things, but they weren't important right now. The voice came from a little room. Inside, a child in a face mask was reading from a textbook. I approached quietly so I wouldn't disturb them. Books and papers lay scattered all over the desk. I felt I'd seen this scene somewhere, but couldn't remember where. Sigh. Probably the MECT fried my brain... Wait, what was MECT? Why did I know that word? What had I just been thinking about? “Coming and going, I keep an empty boat at the river's mouth... Moonlight surrounds the boat, the river water cold... We are both wanderers fallen on hard times...” The child suddenly stopped and wiped away their tears. “Why should we have met before to understand each other now?” Wait, why was the child crying? I'd recited that line so many times, and the voice they said it in sounded like one I'd heard somewhere before. I moved a little closer. A textbook covered half a sheet of paper on the desk. All I could see was, “If you're reading this letter...” No. I rushed forward to snatch it away. “Hey! Don't write that!” They kept wiping their eyes as if they couldn't hear me at all. I reached out to grab them. Suddenly the objects around us flew apart in every direction, and very soon everything became a blurry white again. There was nothing I could do, so all I could do was shout. Wait, “Good luck on your exams” was too clichéd. I should shout something else. Then: “Wait! You have to keep living, meow!” The child finally seemed to lift their head a little, asking softly, “Do you know how long I've waited? Over and over again...”
Overlapping hospital rooms
Seriously, it seemed I couldn't change anything. Why could I hear an ambulance? But something was off about this scene. No one around me was wearing a mask, so it couldn't be during the pandemic. We seemed to have stepped into another space. I thought I saw a mass of medical equipment with someone lying in the middle. Judging by their height, this clearly wasn't the child from before. This person had a beard and body hair, obviously a guy. At first I didn't even want to go near him. He looked so ugly. The thought startled me as soon as it appeared. Strange. Why did I hate someone I didn't even know? For some reason, looking at him made me feel like I was suffocating, like I couldn't breathe. If that were me, I'd... ? No. I had to keep living. This was just too awful, meow. Tubes all over him, strapped to the bed, his face deathly pale. I didn't know what had happened, but, well, I hoped he'd get better soon.. The scenes around me began overlapping again. This time, a long-haired girl appeared at the end of the corridor, her back to me. She looked pretty. So jealous, so young... A table appeared beside me too, with a box of medicine and a hair clip I seemed to have seen somewhere before.... Farther ahead, the girl in the hospital bed looked so familiar too... What had just happened? Why couldn't I remember anything? My body? No, my soul! Falling faster and faster. Everything around me grew more and more indistinct... The sounds blended too, different frequencies layered together: “Big sister,” “Wake up,” “Keep living, meow”... Just like the space here, with no order at all. What was this place?
After waking
A violent pain hit me down below. Staring at the ceiling, I gradually remembered what had just happened. Right. Today was my SRS surgery. You're awake? It's all over. You're a girl now, meow. The tops of my thighs and my collarbone hurt too. Let them hurt. At least I'd finally made it through. Change my documents, then restart. Huh, where was the friend who'd been beside me? Wait, why was I strapped to the bed? It hurt so much, and I couldn't bring my legs together either. My tears started flowing again despite myself, still so salty and bitter. I couldn't breathe at all, but I'd finally made it through. Had I really made it through? Anyway, there would be plenty of time. I could still wear pretty little dresses. I closed my eyes and smiled a little. Beep.. Beep... Beeeep——— Far away, as if beyond a sorrowfully thick wall.
Author's note and video link
(This story is adapted from the author's real experiences. Reposting is permitted with attribution. Do not feed it to AI.)
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