I’d like to tell you about a close friend of mine whose name is Lee Anne Rimes. He’d tell you, "Go ahead and laugh! Everyone else does." However, I know it really got to him. You see, Lee’s mother had really wanted a little girl and was wild over Leanne Rimes at the time of his birth. The coincidental likeness in last names made her feel like she had a famous relative. So when she had a boy instead, she went ahead and named him after her anyway. This, of course, Lee would tell you, was the least of his problems.

          What were Lee’s other problems? Wow, now you are really asking a tough question. Well for one, Lee had always been the smallest kid in any of our classes at school. Then you take the fact that he looked sort of androgynous and the other kids in school automatically found him fun to pick on. To top it all off, he told me in confidence once when he was really down, that he had always felt that he was a girl, not a boy. He wouldn’t admit that to just anyone, of course, but, then again, I was his best friend. Lee would probably have said I was his only friend, but he was not giving people enough credit. He had a real self esteem problem, partly caused by his father, who always picked on him for not being manly enough.

          Come on … How can a girl, no matter what her anatomy, be manly? Lee was always so depressed because he had to pretend he was something he was not, just to fit in, yet he still didn’t fit in and it was not his fault. He hated doing anything violent, but he was violence incarnate when they picked on him enough. He went into a rage and started hitting whatever made him upset, and would not quit until they were feeling as much pain as he was.

          Girls don’t fight? My cute little ass we don’t! Have you ever seen a female cougar defend her cubs? That was Lee, only his cub was his female identity. If you even hinted at harassing him about it, you did so at your own peril.

          As time went on, Lee became more and more depressed and reclusive. The last time I was able to really get him to talk to me, he told me that he had been watching a chat show featuring transsexuals. When his mother saw what had him so interested, she became hysterical and started berating him about watching something that was about nothing but disgusting perverts and freaks.

          That really crushed him, as he now knew that his mother would never accept him for who he truly was. That was the last time we really talked. Oh, I’d see him at school, but he became so withdrawn that he wouldn’t speak to anyone, including me. I was really getting worried about him. His birthday was getting close, and we usually made plans to see a movie or spend the day at the arcade, something we both enjoyed, but the time was growing closer, and he still was withdrawn.

          I never saw him at lunch anymore, and he didn’t look like he was eating much at home, either. It looked to me as if he was wasting away in front of everyone, and no one but me seemed to care. When I called his mother and asked her about Lee’s birthday party, as I had not received an invitation like I usually had, she just told me that Lee had informed her that he didn’t want to have any more birthdays, and that was fine with her, as now she could save the money.

          I asked her if there was something wrong with Lee, and she acted as if I was concerned over nothing. She even said he was ‘just fine.’ Was she blind, or was it that she just didn’t care at all about her child?

          Well, Lee’s birthday was last night, and when I called, his mother told me he had gone to bed early, saying he had a headache. She still didn’t seem at all concerned about what was going on with him at all.

          This afternoon I learned that Lee had sneaked out during the night and had been found this morning, lying in the street in front of the municipal parking garage. They say he had been dead for around 7 hours, due to impact trauma from a long fall. They think he had either been pushed, or had jumped from the top of the ten story structure. They were unsure if it was an accident, or suicide, as no note was found, but there was no evidence of foul play.

          That night I rode my bike downtown and took the elevator to the top of the parking structure walking over to where there was a yellow police tape to keep people away. I ducked under the tape and walked to the retaining wall, which was only three feet tall and about a foot wide. I climbed up and stood on the top of the wall. I felt a shiver of fear as I looked down at the tiny cars and ant sized people walking on the street so far below, not because of the great height, but because there, far below, I could still see the chalk outline that showed where Lee had landed. What could Lee have been thinking as he stood here and then took that terrible last step forward? Did he regret his decision as he fell all that way? Did the pain of landing compare to the anguish in his soul?

          I stood there for a while, trying to understand my best friend’s last moments on this earth. Then I very carefully climbed back down and went home. I will never really understand how Lee felt. I can only hope he has finally found peace at last.

          Lee’s funeral was today. I think I was the only friend who came. Did he have any other friends? I really don’t think so; the others were just acquaintances, not really people that cared about him. His mother just sat there with a dumbfounded look on her face, never even shedding a tear.

          The service was short and felt very wrong. How can you tell someone you loved, that you are going to miss them so very much after they are gone?

          I wish I could have stood up and told everyone there why Lee had died, and what life was like for him. At least then they would have known who they were laying to rest, and why. I would have told them how good and sweet my friend Anne was, and how she felt when puberty started to change her into something she never wanted to be.

          Her voice was changing and she was growing hair in places that no woman should. She was losing even that androgynous look that made life bearable for her. She was being forced by others to act like a boy, an act she loathed more and more every day.

          I would have told them how she hated looking in the mirror every day and seeing what to her, was the disgusting image of a boy becoming more and more masculine as time passed.

          I would have told them how much pain she felt when they called her a boy, or teased her for wanting to do girly things. I would have told them about the sweet smile and light that shone from her eyes when we played with my dolls or had a tea party. I would have told them about the way her whole being glowed when I showed her my pretty dresses, and how happy she was and how natural she had seemed last year when I convinced her to wear my Princess costume for Halloween. I doubt I had ever seen her happier than that that night. I would have told them how her mother had crushed her spirit and broken her heart when she told Lee how she felt about transsexuals.

          Would baring Lee Anne’s departed soul have done anyone any good? I sincerely doubt it. That is why, when it came time to speak of the departed, I remained silent. I will carry Lee Anne’s torment and sadness with me to my dying day. I hope that I will find another wonderful soul like Lee Anne some day and be able to comfort them and help them want to live their life. Maybe that will give me some sense of relief for the pain I feel for failing Lee Anne.

I will never forget,
Anonymous