Stripes

 I didn’t love him. I never had done and never would. But there was something comforting about having Tyler beside me as we sat on the rooftops, huddled together to beat the cold. There, we were hidden from reality and able to express who we really are. Even if it would be for the last time. Tyler moved his finger to caress the black stripe on my wrist, bold and brash against the pale of my skin. It marks me as different. It lets people know that I like men, not women. And it tells people that I should be considered a freak.

 “Are you really leaving?” he asked, kissing my cheek.

 “I have to,” I told him firmly. “There is nothing for me here.” I was already sorted, the little money I owned and my few possessions in a small handbag that I carried with me that night. I was serious about getting away.

 “Then take me with you. I love-”

 “No. You don’t. And how can I start afresh with you there? I’m keeping myself hidden this time. No one is going to know that I’m a Stripe. I’ll pretend to be one of them. And I’ll do it well.”

 Tyler pushed away from me, wrinkling his nose “You’re a coward, Madeline. I thought you were stronger than this.”  

 I smiled at him sadly “I know, Tyler. I know.”

 His eyes welled up, his face crumpling. I was the only person he had. He’d escaped being marked as a Stripe so far, keeping his love of women hidden well. But he was incredibly lonely, seeking solace from reality in my arms, the one person he could trust not to tell. I would never wish him to be marked a Stripe. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. His face was lustful as he cupped my face in his, tears spilling down his cheeks.

 “Kiss me. Just one more time, Madeline. I don’t know when I’ll find someone like you again,” he whispered. I pressed my forehead against his before kissing his lips. Knowing it was saying goodbye to my past, I deepened the kiss, our tears mingling and hands in each other’s hair. Tyler pulled me closer, gripping so hard to my hair and waist that I thought he’d never let go. The kiss ended and we stayed there for a long time, Tyler cradling me in his lap. It took a lot of strength for me to make myself stand up, leaving his embrace for the last time. I said nothing as I headed for the emergency stairs that would take me back to the ground.

 “Don’t forget me!” Tyler croaked. I didn’t turn back, didn’t respond as I left him behind for good. The only sound I heard was my metallic footsteps on the stairs and the soft sobs of Tyler in the distance.

 The sky was darkening, but the parties were only just beginning. People were spilling out into the streets, dancing to thumping music. I had never cared for music. The lyrics either spoke of love or the evils of desiring the opposite sex. It disgusted me. But for one last night, I wanted to be a part of the city. A few people glared at me as I entered a bar, the stripe on my wrist making them immediately oppose me. I reached into my bag and got out a wristband to cover my stripe, and then ordered a beer from the bar. The barmaid eyed up my wristband suspiciously, but said nothing. She clearly wasn’t fooled, but she’d kept quiet, and I was grateful for that. I wanted to feel normal, if just for a little while. The bitter liquid touched my lips and I smiled to myself. I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see a girl smiling at me. She had short hair and a button nose. She smelt of something floral. I tried to look for positives in her. But no matter how I tried, I felt no attraction to her.

 “Hey,” she purred softly “Will you dance with me? You look kinda lonely over here.”

 I hesitated, before forcing a smile “Sure. Why not?”

 She took my hand and dragged me up, my drink still in hand as we moved over to the dance floor. Warm bodies were packed together and I felt exposed, almost trapped in the mass. I had no doubt things would turn nasty if they found out I was a Stripe. The girl told me her name was Callie, whispering the name in my ear as though it was a secret. She told me she thought Madeline was a beautiful name. Our bodies brushed together as we began to move with the music, my eardrums thudding and my heart pounding in fear. I finished my drink all too quickly, my head a little fuzzy as I tried to keep a step away from Callie at all times. But I knew she was getting closer, her hips swaying in a way I longed to find attractive, but couldn’t. I just couldn’t force myself to have interest in her. Her hands found the back of my neck, pulling me closer so I could feel her hot breath on my face. I tried not to back away in fear of our close proximity.

 “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered “I know somewhere much better.”

  She dragged me out the building, my hands sweating even as the cool air hit my face. We waltzed through the streets past people enjoying the night, intoxicated and wild. To my horror, Callie took me to a block of flats, and we rode in an elevator to a high floor. I felt sick as she unlocked her flat and invited me in. It was a small flat, with only three rooms, and Callie didn’t seem interested in the kitchen area or bathroom. We went straight into her bedroom, a double bed centring the room and anti-Stripe posters littered across the grubby walls. Removing her jacket and lighting a cigarette, Callie threw herself on the bed and kicked off her shoes. She patted the space beside her, her cigarette dangling from her lips.

 “Sit with me.” I perched on the edge nervously, glancing at the window hopefully. I could feel Callie’s eyes on me, analysing me.

 “So. I haven’t seen you around the clubs before. Are you new to the city?”

 “No. I just…I’m not really a party person,” I said, biting my lip nervously. I was very aware that I was in the company of a woman. Her arm snaked up to touch my back, her fingers sliding over my t-shirt.

 “You should go out more. Where do you work?”

 “I’m just a shop assistant,” I lied easily. I’d never had a job, everyone refusing to hire me because of the stripe on my wrist.

 “That’s nice. I work for the ASM,” she said. I froze in utter terror. The ASM stands for the Anti-Stripes Movement. They’re technically illegal extremists, but I’m sure the government doesn’t stop them doing whatever they want. I’d heard such terrible stories about them, that they like to torture and kill heterosexuals. They’re sort of a bit of a myth in the city, but my suspicions were confirmed. They are real. I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting myself to be able to make a quick getaway.

 “I’ve never met anyone from the ASM before,” I managed to stutter.

 “Well now you have. I do hope you support our cause. It’s us against them, isn’t it? Yet some people are reluctant to join up,” she said. She stood to pour me some whiskey, handing me the glass. I cradled it in my hands, back still turned to her. I was glad for my wristband then.

 “It’s a good cause,” I said quietly. I gulped the liquid down quickly, not even caring as the foul liquid scorched my throat.

 “That’s what I like to hear,” Callie said. Suddenly, she was in front of me, smiling at me as though I was her prey. Perching herself on my lap, she pressed her lips against mine, her tongue quickly begging for entry. I squirmed away, breathing heavily in fear. Callie laughed at me.

 “What? You never kissed anyone before?” she asked. It was then that her eyes were drawn to my wrist. A silence followed that chilled me to the core. She knew. I held my breath as she slowly reached to touch the wristband.

 “Or perhaps,” she muttered, ripping the band off to reveal my identifying stripe “I’m not your type after all.” Her eyes flared with anger, and her hands reached for my throat. I gasped for air as she clutched at my neck, snarling at me.

 “You’re a Stripe! A disgusting little Stripe!” she cried, spittle hitting my face. With the strength I still possessed, I struck her face with my fist. Caught by surprise, she tumbled off my knee onto the floor, my neck free from her grip. Thinking fast, I grabbed my bag and ran for the window, throwing it open. Meanwhile, in the corner of my eye I saw Callie reach into her sock for a concealed pistol. She shot wildly, missing me by inches and shattering her window as I climbed on to a small ledge outside. With no time to think, I grabbed a drainpipe that ran along the side of the building and edged along it nimbly. To my great relief, there was a balcony several stories below and I managed to drop myself onto it just as another shot fired. I landed hard on my side, pain shooting through my arm as I scrambled to my feet. The glass door to the inside of the building was open and I slipped inside, averting my eyes from a pair of women passionately kissing in the room I’d broke into. They were so wrapped up they didn’t notice me slip through their home and get into the lift. I punched the button for the ground floor and leant against the door in relief. But when the doors reopened, I ran until I could run no more, my feet carrying me through the city and into my new life.