With every step, Morgan ran deeper and deeper into the forest. These light green leaves fluttering on ashen trees, that willow gently bowing over the cackling river, the mud clinging on his shoes... It all had become his refugee a long time ago.
His cousins were scared of the forest with its creatures said to devour every boy running havoc and nana's voice didn't reach farther than the first line of trees, so no matter how hard she screeched, Morgan only heard the soft chirping of birds. He was safe here.

He had run through this part of the forest more times than he remembered and could find his way through it blindfolded.

Morgan closed his eyes. He jumped with ease over the cackling river and dived right on time under a fallen trunk and into what he called The Wonky Trees, a patch of the utmost irregular birch trees. He jumped up, slid over, crawled under and narrowly avoided the trees until he reached a clearing with one puddle in its middle. Come it winter or summer, rain or drought, that puddle was always there.

Morgan held his eyes shut. The high of jumping over it blindfolded was just what he needed.

He concentrated and counted his quick steps. One, two, three... He had to leap at thirty-seven. Ten, eleven, twelve...

"He's already 12."

"He should be a man right now."

"Morgan better be a boy."

"You'd say it's a girl!"

"You are a boy, right?"

"Man up!"

"Be a boy!"

"You are a boy, right?"

Morgan grabbed his ears.

"You are a boy, right?"

He fell to his knees in the puddle and screamed.

"Right?"

"Right??"

"Right?!"

He splashed his fists.

How could they be so cruel?! He was just a child. He was their child and grandchild. Shouldn't they want him to be happy? Shouldn't they want him to figure out who he truly was and live the life he deserved: loved, protected and above all accepted, regardless of his gender?

"You are a boy, right???"

Why were they so cruel?

Morgan hit the puddle over and over as tears welled up and snoth slithered down his chin.

Why does it matter what's between my legs?!

He screamed.

Water splashed up and intermingled with his tears.

I just want to be accepted.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped into the puddle.

|🌈🎪|

Morgan didn't know how long he stayed there, but by the time he wiped his tears and slowly got up, the light green leaves that had surrounded the clearing had turned into dark emerald ones and the ashen trunks had become bordeaux.

A gust of wind uncovered scarlet vines snaking around and the forest's melody had become eerily absent.

Morgan dusted off his clothes. He climbed out off the puddle and sat down against the nearest tree. He took off his shoes and socks and let them dry as he rolled himself up and rubbed his face.

How can I ever face them again? he thought. I just can't take it anymore. I don't want to go home.

A soft, artificial melody slithered through the silence.

Morgan shook his head. I'm never going back. I'll run away and live in the forest.

Wait.

They know I'm here. I always run to the forest when they're too much and they always find me when I stay too long out off their clutches.

Where can I go?

The artificial melody wormed its way into Morgan's ear. The forced cling clanging made the gears in his mind turn until it clicked.

The circus.

Morgan tilted his head. What's the circus doing here?

His eyes widened. "A gift from the heavens! I'm going to join it. I don't know yet as what, but they can always need some extra help, right? And who knows? They can put me on the Freak Show for all I care as The Boy Who Is Not A Boy! Nana would love that - another opportunity to make fun of me - but at least she'll be paying for it this time. It's perfect."

Morgan squeezed dry his socks and patted his shoes. He put them on, got up and followed the melody into the darkest depths of the forest.

As the forest closed in on him, the foliage became more dense and the bark of the trees were covered with more and more slime? He would have said moss, but unlike moss, whatever he had touched stuck to his hand.

Yikes.

He used a bush's lush leaves to rub the slime off. Morgan stopped. He looked at the bush and felt its thick leaves in his hand.

Since when is there a bush this part of the forest?

He should be near the willow, right? He had walked past the Wonky Trees, so the river should be around here alongside the willow.

Morgan closed his eyes and listened. No cackling river, just the artificial melody.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Bushes surrounded him on his left, right, front and back.

When did this happen?! There was only one just a minute ago. Where are the trees?!

And more importantly: where was he?

Panic swiftly made place for apathy. If he didn't know where he was, then he'd doubt his family would be able to find him and drag him back home.

Morgan shrugged.

His hand slid past the bushes as he closed his eyes and followed the melody luring him deeper into the maze.