4 -Truth is simply a way for the powerful to trick you into giving them more power-

---

I think I've figured out the problem. After being thoroughly poked and prodded by numerous different shapes for HOURS I think I know why they're so upset.

That strange 'thing' was once more coaxed out of me (is that my dick?!) And I finally got a good look at it. An oval shape was extending out from between my legs. The doctors were making numerous measurements and making distressed and unhappy sounds.

I came to the realization that as a triangle I'm probably not supposed to have round genitalia. There were numerous photos I saw them bring out to compare and argue over. They seemed to all be...shape dicks. I saw long thin isosceles, rectangles, octagonal rods and more bizarre shapes.

It would be awkward to see so many dick pics but considering they were just geometric shapes...

Now I know why they're so upset. So why won't they just STOP TOUCHING ME ALREADY?! I screamed, thrashed angrily and slapped at their hands. I curl around myself to shield my body. Just leave me alone! One doctor angrily tried to grab me and I bit him.

I am done. I am sick of this. I felt the oval slide back inside me and I shuddered in relief. It was short lived as I was manhandled into the air and more fingers prodded me. This time instead of pulling my oval out they were reaching inside (I have a hole as well?!). I screamed in rage and tried to bite them but I was held firm. The hands were clinical and I heard a metallic noise as they brought up yet another measurement tool and began inserting that too.

The only mercy here is that it didn't hurt. It felt weird and intrusive but was otherwise fine. It didn't feel pleasurable either which I was grateful for. I really didn't want to have to deal with anything THAT awkward.

Finally all the measurements were apparently done and I was placed onto a soft examination bed. A lot of notes were being jotted down and the doctors continued chattering. I can see bite marks on one of them and I sneered at him. Served him right.

I was exhausted from my struggling and I slumped onto the bed. When can I go home? I just want to sleep.

Finally my parents are allowed back in. Orange is immediately fussing over me and I relax into her arms as she cradles me. I cry quietly to myself as we head home.

---

My life changed after that. No longer was I allowed to just play, eat and sleep. As soon as I was awake and fed (sometimes not even) there would be lessons. An elderly Hexagon would be here in our house. He seemed to be a tutor or teacher. I would be forced to sit through lessons where he attempted to teach me how to read. This would be great except I still didn't even know the spoken language!

I'm just a god damn baby! What were they expecting from me? I did eventually pick up both reading and comprehension of the language but that's because I've got the mind of an adult along with an infants learning curve. A real baby wouldn't be able to focus as well as I did. The Hexagon (I call him Purple-ish) didn't even look proud when I finally started speaking and reading the words. He muttered something along the lines of 'Finally. Took you long enough to get it.' And I had to resist the urge to punch his stupid smug face.

With my body still being so young I had trouble staying awake and would often drift off in the middle of a lesson. Purple-ish would slap me awake and call me 'ungrateful' whenever this happened. Dear god, if the real Bill ever went through this shit then I completely understand why he straight up murdered them all. I was seething with fury just having to go along with this.

Orange sometimes looked like she wanted to say something but Purple-ish would snap at her and she'd flinch and leave the room. Sometimes the lessons go on too long and I don't get to eat. My hate for Purple-bitch was growing day by day.

Every week I would be tested on everything I've learned so far. It was stressful and annoying. Sure I had nothing else to do with my life...but it still sucked. I know I said I wanted to learn to read but I didn't want to be taught by this condescending shit bag.

I only got a little free time for myself at night after Orange puts me to bed. I spent that time thinking of happy things. Not my old life though, thinking about the family and friends I left behind only served to make me more miserable. I thought of all the stories I've read, movies and shows I've seen. The music I loved. They were all that kept me going. I didn't want to forget them. They were my only escape from this stress filled life.

I dreamed of anime and music. It wasn't much but it comforted me enough to endure yet another day of constant derision and study. I was picking up the language quickly. Soon I could read everything Purple-asshole threw at me. He never praised my progress. I tried not to let it get to me.

After I mastered reading and comprehension a new tutor came. This time an Octagon. I called him SalmonPink (Salmon for short). He started teaching me math. This at the very least was something I could pick up more easily. The counting system was similar aside from the fact that they went by a base 8 instead of base 10. Probably because we have 8 fingers.

Even if it was easier, the fact that they had a different base system threw me off enough that I still screwed up now and then. Of course it had to be base 8. I've always had the most trouble with multiplying by 8.

This went on for a while. Tutors coming in and out. Constant tests on my progress. Constant visits to the doctor for check ups on my growth. I had to endure more embarrassing probing. At least now I knew what they were saying. Their medical terms were weird. Insertion Piece is what my oval was called. The slit that they keep poking into is a Receiver Slot. I have both a Piece and a Slot. There were different combinations, only a Slot, only a Piece, both, neither and some who have multiples of either one in different shapes. I count myself lucky to only have one of each.

A few years must have passed by now. I'm a lot larger and I can walk around by myself. I can eat solid foods at the dinner table with my family. The food is still bland and I find myself dreaming of corned beef hash and other salty foods. I hate it here. The tutors have left after I passed a few more tests and for the first time I could almost relax...then Orange informs me that I was going to be starting school soon. Fuck my life.

I try to look on the bright side. I can meet other shapes my age. Maybe I could even make a friend. I latched onto that idea and as Orange helps me prepare for my first day of school I bounce around with pent up nerves.

The first thing I notice when I enter the classroom is that I am the only triangle. Orange is talking with the teacher and hands over a lot of legal looking documents. Oh right. Triangles generally work as physical laborers and soldiers. Our shape being the most rigid and powerful meant we could take more physical abuse without snapping. I learned that with my history tutor.

In other words. Triangles don't go to school with the other shapes. They had no need for a proper education. The most they needed to know was basic level reading which they learned in a triangle only school. But because of my round Piece, it meant that I can produce round children. So they had to train me up and educate me. Because a brainless triangle would only produce a brainless child, according to them. It was stupid but I'm actually grateful for the education, even if it was annoying and stressful.

There was a huge political issue with my existence as well. A triangle producing circular children was unheard of. But if I truly can make a round child...how would that affect the hierarchy?

Frankly I'm amazed they didn't just straight out kill me.

The teacher introduced me to the class. There was a lot of whispering and judgmental looks. A triangle in school. How weird. Why does he get special treatment? He produces round pieces? That must be a lie.

I take my seat next to a pale pink square. I say hello as friendly as I could but she just scoots her chair a little farther from me.

School was..interesting. My forced education at a young age actually meant I already knew everything they were teaching in class. I was bored out of my mind. At first I raised my hand to answer the questions but the teacher (who was a rectangle) stopped calling on me and said I should let someone else try to answer. It was a fair enough point so I just stayed quiet and daydream during class.

Unconsciously I would hum songs quietly to myself. Music apparently didn't exist here since everyone thought I was just making strange noises and distracting the other students.

The fact that this society doesn't know what music is horrified me more than I cared to admit.

I tried to show them. I sang during break, I hummed different melodies in different tempos to see if I could catch their attention. Aside from many strange looks I had no such luck.

What was wrong with these children?

I couldn't make any friends. No one wanted to talk to the weird triangle who makes strange sounds. We got our first test results back and I of course aced it. Pink saw my score and accused me of cheating. A fight might have started. We were called to the principals office and no matter what I said they still made me retake the test.

I aced the retake as well.

I could tell the other kids were bitter at being beaten by a triangle. My school life just went downhill from there.

I tried you know. I tried to be nice. I offered to help them. I explained things to them when I noticed them struggling but they just angrily told me off and got more hostile as days went on. I hated school. I wasn't learning anything new and everyone hates me. Why do I even have to be here?

I finally got to look at the books at home, sadly they weren't all that interesting, just rule and law books, dictionaries and construction manuals. At least the manuals are something new. I read about architecture. Apparently my father worked as a carpenter. He built houses for a living.

Normally I would be expected to follow in his footsteps but frankly no one knew what do do with me. There was a lot of paperwork my family had to fill out every month. I still had to go to the doctors for a check up regularly. Every time they would measure my Piece and every time they were disappointed that it was still a perfect oval.

As the years went by I found more and more stuff to distract me. Since I wasn't learning anything at school I had taken to grabbing books from the library to read during class. The teacher refused to call on me so I was never bothered about not paying attention. So long as I did well on the tests and homework no one cared.

I don't always get perfect scores. Sometimes we had reading comprehension questions that truly made me realize just how different their thought process was from mine. We had a short story about a Square that refused to be a merchant like his father and instead joined the army because he wanted to fight for his country. He was brutally killed on his first mission out in the field. We were asked to explain the message of the story. I wrote that it was about devoted patriotism. Everyone else wrote that it was about how shapes shouldn't try to fit into roles not meant for them because it only leads to tragedy.

I feel most of them were thinking about me during their answer.

As we got older I noticed that my classmates were disappearing. The females squares dropped out first, followed by the males (and when I say female I meant that they only had a Slot.) This continued in progression with the number of sides.

After several years I was only going to school among Decagons and higher. It became more and more obvious that I was a triangle. That I didn't belong here.

I learned that the other shapes dropped out because they had reached the peak of what they were allowed to learn. There was no need for furthering their education and would instead devote their time to learning the profession they would be given upon adulthood. Women dropped sooner because those who can only Carry young had no reason to know more. Their job was to be matched with a mate by the government upon reaching maturity and breed.

That's what Orange was. I couldn't help but feel both unfairly angry for her sake and grateful that I was male enough to be allowed to continue my education. Also, it appeared my Slot was just as screwed up as my Piece. It was rounded on the inside as well. At least I match?

I walked in on Orange and Gray mating once (called Clicking in this society) and would have been traumatized if I wasn't so fascinated by the process. I discovered that since I was going to be sent to some other task by the government, Gray needed another child to carry on his career.

I was angry that they were replacing me but I was thrilled to be an older sibling again. Having had two younger sisters back in my first life I was excited at the prospect of helping raise my new sister/brother.

Maybe I can raise them to be more open minded. Maybe I could finally have a friend.

---

I don't think anyone was more excited for the baby than I was. Orange seemed quite happy that I was looking forward to the baby. I suspect she thought I would be angry. I was always feeling her front bricks at the slight bump underneath. We were all flat-ish after all so its not like a pregnancy would be overtly noticeable.

How long do shapes gestate? Will my new sibling be a boy or a girl? Or both like I apparently am?

Aside from my hope for the new baby, there wasn't much to look forward to in this life. School still sucked. The government was still debating on what to do with me. I don't get a chance to really explore this world like I wanted. I'm being watched constantly. The only place where I don't have to deal with government agents stalking me is at home. This doesn't help my hikikomori habits from getting worse.

I only ever leave home to go to school, the library or the hospital. Otherwise I just shut myself in my room to read or draw. I wrote down my life, my first life. Despite the pain it causes. Every little thing I could remember. The family I loved. The friends I cherished. I didn't want to forget them. I refused to forget them. It was a memory of a time when I felt loved. A world where I was free. If I ever lost that...

I don't want to be Bill Cipher.

And yet I sort of do.

I know that I probably have to play his role at some point. He's important to this world, this reality. But even if I must take his place...I want to be able to do it MY way. As much as I can. I want to keep the ME that exists now. Even if I must change down the line (a trillion years, I feel faint just thinking of it) I don't want to lose who I am.

So I write down my story. In a language no one here can understand. I reread my words. I memorize them. I know I've probably gotten a lot of it wrong. I know that not all of my life was sunshine and rainbows but for now the words gave me some proof that I was real. Zyun-Jan was a real girl. She had family and friends and her own aspirations.

I write and read and pray that I will be able to remember.

---

I have a baby sibling!

It's so smol. A bright blue color that reminds me of a sunny cloudless sky. I coo down at it. Gray built a new bedroom for them. I spend my free time gently brushing their surface with a finger and quietly talking to them. It sleeps constantly. Doesn't even wake up to eat.

Apparently this is normal. A newborn is still developing even after birth. That's why we can't check the sex until they're older.

It would also explain why I 'woke up' when I did as opposed to when I was first born. I still go check on my little baby, I name them Will in my head, everyday.

I couldn't wait for them to wake up. I gaze at the tiny triangle and a desperate twisting forms on my chest. I will protect you. This sweet innocent life that I could hold with one hand. I will protect you.

No matter what.

-