Gadiel
May 23, 11:42 am, Canberra, Australia
Gadiel was dreaming.
Or at least, he hoped he was.
In his dream, his parents had left him alone in a hospital, telling him that they wanted the nice doctors to change who he was fundamentally.
"We love you," they said. "But only the version we think you are."
"But I'm not that person," Gadiel had cried. His tears were filling up the room, drowning everyone in the ward.
"Yes you are," they told him. Gadiel was finding it hard to tell the difference if his parents were one person, or two. He thought they were different, but their voices seemed to be coming from the same place.
"You are exactly who we say you are," they said in unison. "And if you aren't, you should be."
"I can't change that much without dying," Gadiel pleaded.