But nothing happens. The car passes through your body, same as it does through the open air - you are left standing there in the street. [[Unharmed|Unharmed]].
"[[What is it|What is it]]?" you say.
You fall to the basement. \n\nThen you [[fall through|Through]] the basement floor.
You're not sure if you should trust her and [[tell her everything|Tell her everything]] or if you should [[make something up|Make something up]].
You sleep less and less each [[day|Day]].
But then the floor opens itself up. \n\nYou [[fall|Fall]] through the floor.
Concerned, you go to your [[doctor|Doctor]].
This isn't you right now, asking for your life to be over. You have to know that, and how important you are. [[Go on|Impact]]. \n\n
Stacks of files on the floor around your desk, all of them cases assigned to you. [[Immigrant workers|Immigrant workers]], men and women come before you to bring claims against employers in the kitchens, gardens, manufacturing floors, and construction projects in [[the city around you|Around you]]. \n
It is difficult at first, but the headaches, the faintings, and inertia soon [[pass|Pass]].
You need to close more cases, so you [[stop sleeping|Stop]].
What can you do, as committed (as removed from your inner life and body) as you are? \n\n[[Go on|Go on]]\n\n[[Rest|Rest]]
The light at the center of the earth burns constant, lifeless, [[cold|Cold]]. \n\n
You go before the doctor, but she looks at you skeptically. You're not good at lying - it's obvious that you're leaving [[something|Something]] out.
At work, more and more cases have been piling up on your [[desk|Desk]].
"Doctor," you say to her in the examination room, "something is happening to me." She tries to hold your wrist to read your pulse, but your wrist slips through her hand. "Yes," she says, "I've seen this before - perhaps there is still [[time|What]]."
[[This isn't you|Not you]]. \n
You fall more quickly now and cannot stop. \n\nIt feels good somehow, gaining this distance - \n\nhaving removed yourself so nothing can move you or affect you [[now|Now]]. \n\nYou want it to continue for as long as it can. \n\n\n
As you walk across the city, as you look out the window of a bus, you see the places where the exploitation takes place - it is [[everywhere|Everywhere]].
It isn't real and this is not your right mind, \n\nyou realize after some time. \n\nEverything stops, at last, when you start asking how to return.
You know what happens to trans women like you - brown skin, hypervisible and a stranger to this city of white faces. \n\nRest? It can't be done. [[Go on|Go on]].
You turn to face the car just before the [[impact|Impact]].
If you rest, the cases won't be solved. \nIf so, you'll lose your job. \nIf so, you won't have health insurance. \nIf so, you won't afford your hormones treatments. \nIf so, you'll lose your apartment. [[And so on|And so on]]. \n
You fall through the foundation \n\nand different layers of [[earth|Earth]].
"[[What is it|What is it]]?" she says.
Then crossing the street one morning, the unexpected happens. You are about to be struck by a car - but you hesitate in deciding between whether to [[move|Move]] from its path or [[let it happen|Let it happen]].
The brown faces of the workers that come before [[your office|Go on]] bear a striking resemblace to your own brown face and the faces of your relatives. You hear their stories and they are the same stories your parents tell about their undocumented years, when you were a child. \n