Ash was eleven when the concept of secondary genders really cemented in his mind that he was different. Growing up, he was always aware of the fact that he was an omega and that people looked down on him because of it, but he never felt threatened because of his gender before. Growing up in the same community his entire life he had developed some close friends, but he was still wary and kept his distance. Maybe this was due to his parents' contempt for him or because his anxiety made it difficult for him to truly open up and communicate. Either way, Ash had a few friends but none that knew his true aspirations or fears. Yes he told them he wanted to be a writer and that he wanted to attend college, but as many children do they simply acknowledged him and moved the topic of conversation to something they found more exhilarating. During an overnight camping trip hosted by his school, things started to go downhill for Ash. All the students and chaperones brought their own tents or sleeping bags and everyone was supposed to stay with their assigned group for the duration of the trip. All groups had been assigned and unfortunately Ash was not paired with anyone he knew, so he kept to himself for the most of the week. It wasn’t terrible and he was still able to hike and explore the grassy knolls without much incident. The chaperone of his group was one of the other boy’s fathers who frankly was not focused on much other than fishing and the occasional beer. On the last night of the trip the students all came together to enjoy a bonfire and make s’mores. At first, Ash was having fun listening to ghost stories and what all the other kids did during the week. He soon started to feel unnerved as though someone was watching him. He turned around several times trying to determine the culprit, but ultimately he decided it must be his anxiety playing tricks on him. Thinking it best to take some time to himself, Ash quietly slipped away past the tree line to go for a short walk to the lake so he could calm down and hopefully get his anxiety in check. He still had the feeling that he was being watched, but he had no proof that it was anything outside of his head. As he often did when trying to calm down, Ash sang a lullaby to himself. Though he did not speak the language, French lullabies were his favorite for their beautiful prose and the emotions that can be felt by listening to them. Standing on the edge of the lake, softly singing to himself, Ash was completely unaware of the three older boys that had snuck up behind him until suddenly he was grabbed and pulled back against a large chest. He was so shocked and scared that he wasn’t sure how to respond and simply froze, trying to get his now ragged breathing under control. “Well who do we have here boys? Looks like a lost little omega to me.” The older boy holding Ash said menacingly. The other boys snickered. “What are you doing out here all alone omega? Were you hoping someone might find you and make your night?” Ash didn’t understand what the boy was insinuating and his anxiety was beginning to build. His hands were getting clammy and his throat began tightening as if a snake had somehow wound its way up his body and was crushing his chest and throat at once. Not getting the response he wanted, the older boy leaned down sniffing Ash’s neck before whispering in his ear huskily, “Do you want me to make your night little omega? I love the look of virgins when they squirm.” It finally clicked for Ash what these boys were planning for him and he began to quake in fear. He had to get away - he wasn’t safe with these people. The older boy had begun releasing his pheromones to force Ash into submission, but there was little point. Ash’s anxiety and fear were skyrocketing to the point he was hyperventilating and had lost all control over his limbs. He could feel the boy’s grip becoming tighter and heard the other boys sneering as they closed in around him. The boy behind him kept a firm grip on one of his arms, but the other had moved behind Ash and he could hear the zipping of his jeans being undone behind him. Ash could feel the boy’s erection against his back and he was about to start crying when a light was seen through the trees. “Boys? Go back to camp! It’s time for lights out!” The older boys voiced their disappointment, but quickly let go and jogged in the opposite direction of the light before they could be caught. No longer being supported, Ash crumpled to the ground letting his tears roll silently down his cheeks. When the teacher finally found him curled up on the ground, Ash had dissociated and was trying to convince himself it was all a dream. That the boys weren’t going ot rape him - that he had simply conjured them up in a fit of anxiety and creativity. He did not protest when the teacher led him back to the campsite and his group, and he made no fuss the next morning when they all packed up to leave. Ash slept only sparingly on the ride home, too terrified to close his eyes the rest of the night after that event. He kept mulling over how if he had been a beta or an alpha that nothing like that would have happened to him. He never thought of himself as weak before, but that night being unable to move or fight back had broken something deep inside of him. Ash was ashamed of himself; he was ashamed that he didn’t tell those boys off; he was ashamed that he didn’t struggle and they moved in on him like prey. Although he never saw their faces, the reflection of the moon on the water was what stuck with him the most. The sound of small waves along the shoreline cresting and breaking and the smell of fresh water running through the nearby creek. Those would forever be associated with the terror he felt that night. Just as Ash was learning to hate his secondary gender, he was teaching himself to fear the water and any smell that reminded him of that evening and those evil boys. 

Ash had begun cutting earlier that year. In the midst of a severe panic attack the notion of blood and seeing himself bleed kept appearing in his mind like a demented epiphany. He tried scratching his arms and wrists until small specks of blood appeared, but it wasn’t enough. The small voice in the back of his head told him he needed a knife - that he needed to cut deeper. It was close to ten pm, but Ash’s parents had retired to their room and his sibling Thea had gone to a friend’s house for the night. No one questioned why he was in the kitchen so late and no one noticed when he took a recently sharpened kitchen knife back to his room and locked the door. For the longest time he stared at the blade in his hands, turning it over and placing the cutting edge against his fingers, his palms, his wrists. He knew that it wasn’t normal to want to hurt yourself, but somehow he also knew that this would bring him peace. That somehow it would quiet the voices in his head tearing him apart inside. After what felt like hours of deliberation, Ash had decided that no matter the consequences, the relief he could feel from the pain would be worth it. He placed the blade firmly against his left wrist and pressed down hard before dragging it across as swiftly as he could. The crimson drops began to pool rapidly and run down his forearm. He would have to clean the hardwood soon, but for the first time since the voices appeared in his head Ash finally felt relief. He had found a way to feel peace, no matter how fleeting.