What is 'g'?

I walk in a dusty, black alleyway as the people stumble around me, their unwashed bodies stinking from the waste and other disgusting things on the ground. Only I see them as I am the one who has no choice, but to look down.
The noise would be unbearable for anyone who has never been there. But I needed to get used to it a few years ago- then it was like a loud rusty metal clinging to my ear, resilient to never letting go, only when it snaps- and now it’s just a completely normal background noise.
You can hear anything and everything here, as the small streets act like the veins for the venom: the complaining customers quickly get into a fight, and the familiar sound of faint bone breaking can be heard from the not-so-distance. Closer than I would like it to be.
I clench my fingers together, ready to get involved -only if it’s inevitable- while hoping that no one will notice me as I walk in the deepest corner, trying to blend in with the darkest of shadows.
There are stands around me. A ton. Legal, not-so-legal… who knows? I don’t even care anymore.
Without taking my eyes off the ground, I quickly snatch something from a messy table- really hoping that it's useful- and hide it in one of my ocean of pockets.
The people are trying to get a peek or even the slimest glimpse of my face, and what I look like, constantly looking under my hood as I walk. Their judging eyes follow my steps wherever I walk, trying to find something unordinary, or ‘wrong and different’ as they like to call it. Everybody is against us. Women, men and under 14-people. Oydens.
As I step on some waste,- one of the unidentifiable objects on the ground people don’t even want to know about - I lose my balance and fall, I carefully land on my front arms, them bended in caution. As they hear the loud thud, the crowd around me stop in their tracks. I -of course- get genuinely scared.
I murmur a quiet ‘I’m fine…’ while making my voice sound thinner than it actually is, knowing that if I cause a commotion I will get caught, I quickly slip into a darker alley and the small crowd quickly disappears. Somewhere I am alone, and no one can find me and realise the secrets I hoard within me.
Everybody here knows that if you’re 14 years old, you need to choose if you want to be a girl or a boy. And if you don’t… well, you become like me: hunted, unwanted and killed when found.
Life isn’t that bad though!
You can see- and even have- every culture in the city, every identity, people and sexual orientation. Every day there are new and new people walking on their paws and legs, dressed in any aesthetic they have. See? I told you!
Oydens are the ones under 14, and are g-neutral.
They have an average body:
Their hair grows, don’t have much fur on their skin, like a girl–just like a girl. But the rest of their body is like a boy.
They are free from the advantages and disadvantages of both gs and are perfect in my eyes.
I am also an Oyden, but I shouldn’t be. No one can know. If I will get caught once, who knows what would happen to me? Nothing good, as I know. I really hope that I can survive here, while trying to stay afraid. That is the reason why I am still alive. I also don’t have a home. I live on the streets.
Life is good in my opinion. No one has found me yet.
I know that there are other Oydens out there, in the city, who are just like me.
‘How do you know?’ I whisper my worried troubles into the darkness of the tight alleyway as it slowly drifts me into unconsciousness.

Chapter 2.
When I was 12, I had the ‘Oiam’ in my school which is a talk given to us by a specialized person, about the roles of the gs we all will need to fulfill once. It was said to be the most important day of our lives, but the fact is: I couldn’t care less– it was just another sick brainwashing ritual making us the robots of the corrupt system we all forced to live in.
As it turned out, g has no purpose, only when it comes to being in pairs of two- having a partner.
As I realized this newfound knowledge was completely useless for me, I sat through the whole lesson, acting as I care, even though I didn’t even in the slightest bit. My mind boiled in the pain and suffering that my ears took in from the outside. I hoped that they would start to bleed so I would need to go to the nurse.
When it came to the topic of ‘girl’ I might have got too mad, as some other kids- who of course enjoyed the lesson- asked me if I was fine.
I was not… in their eyes and in mine.
When we finally –after what felt like a troubled whole eternity of multiple lifelines– had recess, I ran through the school’s small yard where the children excitedly talked about the horrors I’ve heard and witnessed.
I darted away from the school -not caring if it’s legal or not- into another place, where my leg decided to bring me, while I fought my tears that had finally had the time and space to come out, as I couldn’t let others know or ask why exactly I am crying.
Someone caught me and forcefully pulled me close into a dark corner, cautiously.
‘Don’t shout, I saw you’ the person whispered and looked around. They were dressed in black and covered their face with a hood. For strange reasons that I couldn’t quite explain then– and even now, they had this kind of dark, and mysterious aura around them that caused their presence to feel much calmer than in the suffocating walls of the school. I was -of course- scared of what they would tell me, and even if they were to judge my actions and force me to be like the others: a person with a g without the ability to think and decide my own faith. I clenched my fists together.
‘You came from the school… right?’ the person asked, and I nodded. My subconscious told me that I can trust them, but my self awareness told me that I need to know what they are planning; no one stops and pulls a running kid into the shadows, even if they are cautious. I clenched my fists harder- ready to fight back if they try to do harm to me.
’Did you have the talk?’ I nodded again, trying to look as innocent as I could, whipping away my flooding tears of anger and frustration about this disgusting system.
‘And what do you think about it?’ they looked at my eyes, staring into my soul, as a way to know if I am hiding anything or not. I was- but I just cleared my face of any emotions and glanced back, with an empty expression.
‘About g?’ I asked back, trying to get a glimpse of the stranger’s face, as they pulled it down.
‘Yes.’ they were clearly tired waiting, and wanted to know my answer as fast as possible.
‘Useless.’ I gave a short -but in my opinion true- reply.
The mysterious person sighed of relief:
‘I don’t have much time to explain this: I am still an Oyden. And remember this word: Nombre. It’s spanish- it means name. We are a team- a whole network, actually,- all around the city who don’t support g.’ as they said this, I looked at them confused to know that I was not the only one aware of the terror spreading by brainwashing young children. There were others who understand me…! ’But be aware: now that you know about us, you can’t slip out unphased from this, but you can- if you bend the rules enough- still be a Oyden after you turn 14 –if that’s what you want of course. It will be dangerous. Do not worry, you will be fine. I see that you are afraid enough to do it and even survive. Always remember’ they looked around as a way to check if someone was listening to our conversation or even just hearing it ’leave the wall, go out and find the mountain. Go there, live. You will be able to live free, even if you were to choose a g by force.’
I suddenly heard shouting and police officers came running towards the person, who stood there, their eyes widened, and quickly pushed me into the alley and left me on the ground in the dark. I watched the men drag the Old Oyden (I call them O.O for short) out into the crowd. One seemed to sense my presence and looked back, unsure if I was really there or not, but as I quickly crawled back into the black, without making a lot of noise he turned back and helped the others.
All of my hope of getting more information out of them and getting to know the person– disappeared all in an instant.
I was there, my hands covered in the mud, the rain mixed with the dust on the ground, dumbfounded.
I looked at the direction of the O.O as the soldiers ‘escorted’ them by force into the direction of Beleiley, the City of Glory and Shine, or in other words: the source of my- and others’- misery.
‘Rivera!’ I heard a teacher shout my name, searching for me,and probably wondering why and how I had dissappeared from the school, and I whispered a cruel swearing under my breath.
I was tired and had too much going on my mind. As I slid my hands into my pocket for them to take a rest if I couldn't, I felt a small hand sized compass sitting there, that was probably put there by the person.
I felt like I and everything was spinning, but in the total opposite direction.
Later that day while outside, I saw the Old Oyden getting brutally killed by those awful men. It was all public, for all to see, to prevent them from even thinking about… or even– just think.
It wasn’t only just a scene that they did, it was a public execution to make the people like me lose hope, and to scare them, but as the Old Oyden ment: Fear is power to some who can control and absorb it as a part of their lives.
And as I stood there, in the middle of the crowd, watching him, and as he and I looked at each other one last time– I clenched my fingers into a fist and told myself that they would be the last one to suffer.
As the show was over, the people went in their homes or continued their daily lives, as if nothing had happened. Nothing!? Nothing!
Just… nothing.
They were ‘nothing’ to the people that lived in the city.
And as I also walked home after this exhausting day, I vowed that I will end this corrupt system.
Leave the wall, go to the mountain and live. These were the words I told myself every day from then on, like a mantra to my future, a guiding shadow in the blinding light, and became kind of my thought system. Although no one was allowed to go outside of the wall without being over 14, or in other words: having a specific g, either being a boy or a girl.
Trust me when I say: I tried everything.