One of my shticks from my Intro to Digital Studies course last semester was that I made quite a few pieces of interactive fiction. They were told in the second-person perspective using “you” to refer to the main character, who is intended to be an insertion of the reader. I like the style, for it allows for a certain extension of empathy and thought would go best with the topic of transgender identity. I took this theme a bit literally, and it contains some personal content that could be viewed as negative.

This activity, “I’m a Real Boy,” was created by Cherish Phillips and contains the following description: “Everyone has at some point wanted to be like or actually be someone else. Whether they’re a famous celebrity or just someone you really admire. For example, Pinocchio. He just wanted to be a real boy, that’s all he wanted. So what you’re gonna do is write a snapshot of what your life would be if you could be anyone else in the world. This can be a snapshot of a single day, or a summary of how your life would be. Be creative feel free to use anybody whether its a TV character, and actual person, or some random person that lives in your neighborhood.” In this text, the subject is myself and contains a snapshot of a Tuesday morning.

Trigger warning: instances of potential body dysphoria*

You inhale, your ribs liberated from a vice-like ache known in an alternate universe. You can breathe freely: you’re not worried that too sharp an inhale could destroy your image. The morning is like any other, and so you go about it with an occasional hum, random bass notes emanating from your throat. Your roommate is still dreaming, though they’re a heavy sleeper. The sound floats briefly in the echo-chamber bathroom before dissipating into the sound of running water. It is nice how you don’t have to hover outside the bathroom to wait for people to leave it. You’re welcome there, or at least you’ve welcomed yourself. 

It takes you quite a short amount of time to get ready, not blinking twice at the reflection that you’re used to. You’re a black belt, and you had to work just as hard as the other guys during your test last summer. Soon enough, you’re ready to walk out the door. You’re not worried about the position of your backpack strap as you sling it over one shoulder. It lays across your chest instead of cutting into it. Your shoulders are relaxed because you don’t feel the need to make them look broader than they already are.

Your hand envelopes the doorknob, granting you full autonomy as you close the door softly. Your name is on it unashamedly, declared in bold Sharpie on a googly-eyed bird made from scrapbook paper. Sterling. It appears on your license, birth certificate, and others: just as it should. You do not have to cover up your name when your family comes because they have always known you by that name.

You have to tilt your head to view it because you’re your father’s height: 5’10”. You’ve never had to wear any kind of hidden heel to feel like people can see you as the man you are. You shake your head. No point on dwelling something so… well, cute. You can say that word. It’s OK.

It doesn’t take you long to walk to Stage Dialects class because you don’t worry about the way your legs look as you move. You greet your friends and sit in a chair, bow-legged and relaxed. The class begins, and you’re required to make a pure “e” sound. It comes smoothly from the front of your face in a casual tenor. Your gum ridge vibrates with the sound, the need to deepen your voice and keep it trapped in your throat – a half-muttered rasp – never arising.

The sound confirms that you’re a real boy.

And so am I.

*Please note that even though this details many insecurities, I am rather confident in my body. Also, I apologize if I used the wrong term in my trigger warning! Thanks for reading! ^_^

Special Agent 013

I immediately realize something isn’t right. I shudder as pain fills my entire body. It aches like a fresh bruise being touched by a middle school crush. Something isn’t right. I try to move my left arm, its stuck. I try to move any limb in my body, and it hits a cold metal slate. I’m stuck. I’ve been captured.

The last thing I remember was I was on a mission. I left my family, unknown of my whereabouts, to complete my job. I reside in Chicago. A grand city full of people of all different personalities. It’s easy to keep a secret there. Everyone is too caught up in their own situations to even decipher my lies. To my family, I am a business man. They think I spend long days in the office, a typical American nine to five job with weeks of travel for business meetings. If only they knew.

So I began my journey. Kissed my husband farewell, hugged my two children goodbye, and caught my first train to the airport. Final destination, Russia. The contents of my mission are not disclosed to me until I reach Russia. After a fourteen our flight, with one connecting flight, and 3 meals of peanuts and horrible airplane sandwiches later, I have arrived (and yes, even special agents STILL have to eat).

The typical movie scene where someone holds up a sign with your name on it at the airport is more than true. I look for a sign with the name Amelie Amaya is plastered in sharpie on a piece of cardboard. I follow the broad and tall man to his Lincoln and begin to sink in the seat.

We arrive at a shipping container yard. He then gets aggressive. He pulls me out of the car, hair first, and leads me to a shipping container. This, quite obviously, is unusual. He pushes me in, and the next thing I remember is a clear blow to the head, knocking me unconscious.

That is all I remember. No one knows where I am, not even myself. I don’t know why I’m here or what I did. I am stuck here and scared for my life. I hear cars above my head, maybe someone will find me. Maybe they won’t. My voice is giving way to the amount of screaming I have done. It feels like it’s been weeks. If you see this, relay it to my officials. Tell them Secret Agent 013 is in danger.

Continuing on to the second assignment for the Writing Week and I have a total of 5 stars out of the required 8 stars of writing category assignment bank. I choose to do the writing assignment called “I’m a real boy”. “I am a real boy” tasked you to write about your life if you could be anybody else in the world. I decided to relate this assignment to the secret agent theme of the class by wishing my life could be Nancy Drew’s life. For those who don’t know, Nancy Drew is a 16 year old detective who goes around from letter request asking for help and takes on this persona to try to crack different mysteries that has been happening around town. I always loved Nancy drew so this is a perfect assignment to do.

I wish I could be Nancy Drew. She is just awesome. With her knowledge. I wish I had her knowledge to be able to crack any mystery that comes my way. With her bravery to get out of situations that can lead to her death. She is not afraid of anything even when she is trapped and she has to disarm bombs or the people of the town and herself would die. I wish I had her patients. Patients to not get angry when people question her ability to crack a mystery because she is too young and a girl. And ultimately I wish I was Nancy drew because she is able to go all over the world: Paris, Japan, etc. to discover the reason behind the disturbances. Even though being a detective is a tough job, being able to go to the beautiful places makes up for it in the end.

I’m Andy, the infamous bank robber. But if I could be anyone anywhere, I would have chosen to be a soldier in the Union Army during the civil war, like Kyle Masala. Even though I am an outlaw, I am still patriotic to my country and what it stands for. I would have enjoyed that time fighting for this nation. I’m sure I would do fine in the battlefield, everyone knows my skill as a gunslinger. Those confederates would have to watch out for my shooting. Maybe that would have set me straight… but who knows, you can never look back right?

To thing or even contemplate about being another person or living another life has probably crossed just about every human being’s life at some point. The grass is always greener on the other side even if you’re the greener side of life already.

The reflection of this desire has been expressed in books, movies, board games, and video games especially I would think. People create interesting characters that people would idolize or become connected to. I distinctively remember a particular crime television show having a sudden death of a beloved character and my wife and I being emotionally hurt because of the investment that we had personally put into a made up character.

I’m an avid gamer and would game all the time if I could. Whether it’s board games or video games I’m very interested and involved. And for me I think that says a lot. I love stories. I love entertainment. Why? Is this my mind and personalities way of showing that I’m not happy with my current state unless it’s full of as much fiction or non-fiction that’s not my life at all. Does this mean that I’m truly living my life to its fullest?

In a word, yes I believe I am. Some certain may not think so and that’s their right to do so but I believe that wanting to experience life as something fantastic even for a little while is a gift regardless of you paying for it or not. I’m still me and yes I’ve been influenced by the things that I’ve done in my life but I also believe that exposer to all these different mediums of entertainment or, more broadly, imagination is a wonderful and marvelous thing.

People poke fun at those that play massive multiplayer online role playing games (MMORPGs) day in and day out. I’ll confess that I’ve spent too much time on multiple games and suffered for it. I’m not a heavy drinker but I’m sure there many of people out there that have had a little too much alcohol from time to time; as have I or at least indulged in a pleasure too much that the individual or society would consider it “excessive”. I’m not justifying it or saying that it’s right or wrong. I’m saying don’t judge for you can be judged for your own excessive use of “fill in the blank”.

Most if not all of humanity has dreamed of a better life for themselves. I believe we get glimpses of true happiness and that is what keeps us driving on. For me those moments are not found in a video game or movie but rather in the people, places, and things that mean the most to me and have significant meaning that remind me a time or aspiration.

So for this assignment I can say that I’ve dabbled in sorcery, alchemy, being an assassin, being a western outlaw, being a federal agent, being a nuclear war survivor, survival, and so much more. I feel because of all this imagination I’m a better and more whole person and I’m saying that for myself alone. Doctors don’t write the same prescriptions for all their patients because they’d all be dead. Life is your own experience. Live it to YOUR fullest.