On The Other Side: I Quit Being Human

Long black hair, an androgynous face, and tall stature—a quality that is befitting of an effeminate male. Such a trait belongs to the person standing in front of me. Looking down at me with cold, mischievous eyes, he smiled incomprehensibly.

I am shaken, and bewildered; my hands that are firmly grasping my M762 7.62 NATO Rifle couldn't even move a single inch. My hand is not hurt, nor is something holding it. My mind ... My mind is convinced that I shouldn't move it.

I, too, am effeminate, but unlike me, this man in front of me has an incredible aura. It is undeniable and absolute—it is terrifying; the effeminacy he possesses doesn't diminish his presence in the least bit.

An ordinary effeminate dude like me will never be able to match this man. Furthermore, he has that thing that I don't have—horns. He has horns on his forehead. Maybe that is what makes us different: I am human, but he is not.

For what he is, I don't know. As for where I am, I don't know either. For how I ended up here ... Maybe, I can tell. Of course, I can't provide any explanation about what has happened, what is happening, and what will happen.

All I can tell is only the story.

...

My name is Layland Kleinhaus. My father was American, and my mother is German. Yes, you heard it right; my father is dead. But before I tell you what happened to him, I will tell you about my life first.

A child's name is how their parents hope them to be. Mine, Layland, is taken from a Greek name which means the protector of men; by saying men, it means the entirety of humanity. My mother wanted me to be a gentleman to the people around me—she wanted me to be a strong man.

I know, it's a little bit of a stretch to give me that name. However, in my mother's defense, every hope must be a stretch; it's always the exact opposite of what reality often presents us.

Lo and behold, I ended up getting diagnosed with hypogonadism—low testosterone levels. That means, I can't be strong enough as a man, which further justifies why my mother's hope was not wrong.

Low testosterone levels usually mean you have less hair than normal males, less muscle mass, and a higher pitch voice—you're different, but not very apparent. But, the world seems very fond of screwing me over.

I was born with an androgynous face—I am effeminate. With my small stature and soft-spoken nature, many people often mistook me for a female. It was okay in primary school, but when puberty hit everyone ... The situation changed.

Yes, it's as you have predicted—bullying. Those pricks bullied me so hard, I had, more than once, thought of killing myself. Luckily, my mother was always there to stop me. Still, the bullying didn't stop.

If you ask me what is the worst type of human, I will confidently say teenagers. They are just the worst. Their underdeveloped brain that causes them to act impulsively is one of their traits that I abhor—they are irritatingly dumb.

Now, I am not so different from those teenagers; I am one too. However, if you compared my brain's development rate and theirs, you would see how mine completely outclassed them. Still, I was and still am dumb.

"Layland, I think I fell in love with you ... Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

It was just an ordinary Saturday noon in one of the many high schools in California—my school. My classmate, Brianna, had told me a few minutes before to meet her at the school garden, one of the quietest places in the school.

"R-Really?" I just didn't expect things would go that way. "Yes, really. So, do you want to be my boyfriend?" It was so real: her nervousness, her expectant expression, and her body gesture. I believed her instantly—we ended up dating.

I am not bad-looking, and I am aware of it. However, none of the girls saw me as a man before; all of them either treated me like air or just their other female friend. Being seen as a man was my first, and I was so happy that day.

I was glad I had made an appointment to visit my mother in Central California Women's Facility—yes, that's a prison. As for why my mother was there, the story dates back to the time when I had just finished primary school.

4 years ago when I was 13, a huge fight broke out in the Kleinhaus household—my household. It was not just a married couple fight; it was a REAL fight. My father had been abusive toward me and my mom, and she just had had enough of it that day.

My father was completely drunk coming home—with an unknown woman at that—and he kept yelling at my mother for whatever reason.

At first, an ordinary quarrel occurred where mom was yelling at my father, asking what the fuck he was doing with the bitch he had brought home. Being the genuine bastard he was, he carelessly answered that the bitch was his girlfriend.

Mom, just like usual, could only cry and receive all of the unethical words my father threw at her. I didn't remember what my father commanded back then, but he was enraged my mother didn't do as he said; he hit mom.

The bitch he brought home even dared to laugh at that. I don't know what happened to me back then—being an effeminate boy, I was usually submissive—but that time my mind went blank, and I could see nothing but darkness.

I had never once disobeyed my father. Even whenever he hit me, I gladly took the beating and choked back the tears just like he had ordered. But that day was my breaking point; I couldn't watch him hurt my mom anymore.

When I realized it, I had jabbed a knife at my father's stomach. No one had expected that, and all of them were terrified. My father, who registered for the event late, stared at the knife dumbly, before punching my head, breaking my temple in the process.

My head hurt so bad at that time, but I am sure I was smiling. My vision went blurry, but I could witness the scene where my mother took out a pistol, and aimed it at my father and his girlfriend.

Bang! Bang!

That's how my mother ended up in prison; she took the blame for me. I didn't know why she did that at first—why would someone jail a 13-year-old kid?—but upon growing up, I understood her reason for doing it.

No one would jail a 13-year-old kid, but no one would also believe a 13-year-old kid could murder his father. In other words, my mom would still take responsibility for my action at the end of the day.

Rather than being jailed for something she didn't do, it was better to do it with a blast, right? No, that wasn't her reason. Even up till then, she kept telling me that I didn't do anything to my father; it was all her.

I can proudly exclaim she is the only woman I love; that is absolute!

Rang!

"Alright, young man. You only have 30 minutes to talk to your mother, so use it well."

"Yes, ma'am!"

I had just arrived at the prison, and I was giddy to meet my mom—to tell her about my girlfriend. I sat on the chair provided in the visiting room and waited for my mother to enter the room.

It didn't take long until I could see a brown haired beautiful middle-aged woman coming inside. She was slightly skinny and unkempt, but she was my mother; she was perfect in front of my eyes.

"Mom!" I cried elatedly. It was sad I couldn't touch her directly due to the glass separating us, but seeing her was enough for me. "You look good, Lay." As always, mom greeted me with a smile that I never got tired of.

"Mom, how are you? Are you eating well? Did you clean yourself well? What about your friends? Are there—"

"Hold on, Lay." My mother laughed. "I am fine, and yes, I eat and clean well. As for friends, I have some. But, this visit shouldn't be about me; I want to hear about you." Her smile seemed eternally etched on her face.

"Oh, you won't believe it, but I got a girlfriend!" I was very eager to tell her about it. She listened to my story with a smile the entire time and gave her two cents from time to time.

Time moved so fast whenever I talked to her, by the time I knew it, the visiting time was over.

"Mom, I will meet you again next week. Stay healthy!"

"See you again, Lay. Stay well!"

With a smile, I went home. The next day, when I came to school, everyone was suddenly aware of my relationship with Brianna. As I have said in the beginning, I, too, am a teenager, I was dumb; I didn't think it was weird.

That was the beginning of my endless suffering ... On Earth.