As I tried to get some sleep in my beat up old Chevy, I thought back to four weeks ago when my life was turned upside down once again. My name's Samuel, Samuel West, or at least it was. After my father’s last words to me, it is probably best I never use it again. I am so cold right now, but there is little I can do about it except curl up in my blanket more.

I’ve spent the last 2 weeks driving across the country to get here, and now I’m here I’m too scared to go knock on the door. The lights are all off, except the bright neon sign that reads, “THE HOME THAT LOVE BUILT“. I could go to the door, but I don’t want to wake anybody up, and I’m scared what to say. After all it was Stacy that contacted them for me.

I’ve been living in my car since my father kicked me out with nothing but the clothes on my back the keys to my car and the mobile phone he knew nothing about.

The straw that broke the camel’s back turned out to be my physical evaluation for the Marines, I had barely been in the training camp a week when all hell broke loose. Anyway there I was, lying on my bunk, when suddenly the door slammed open and in stormed my father, General West, looking as if he's ready to kill. I stood up straight and saluted, only to find myself flying across the room.

I landed in a heap, holding my face as I scrambled to get up and stand to attention, holding back tears that were forming in my eyes, mainly from the shock of the attack. It had been 2 weeks since I had felt my father’s wrath as he tried in vain, once again, to make a man out of me. No matter how much I tried, I was just not built to be masculine.

I am 5'3” with a slight build, and I have always been small and feminine in both appearance and mannerisms. All through my early youth I was teased and taunted by the other kids for my size, the way I moved, and the fact I hung around with the girls. I had few friends growing up, all of whom were girls. I also had a younger sister, Stephanie, who was 2 years younger than I was.

Stacy Sumner was my best friend since kinder garden. She was the only person I ever confided my deepest, darkest secret, knowing full well she’d never tell another soul. My faith in my best friend was correct, as even now at 18, she has kept my secret. I have always felt I should have been a girl, but coming from a military family, I knew it would never be possible.

I was a constant disappointment to my father. He served in the marines as a commissioned officer, working his way up the ranks to his current position as a General. While I was growing up he was away a lot, but the times he was at home he made sure I knew his displeasure. He tried everything to change my faggot ways, as he called them.

At first it was just running me through endless drills, trying to build muscle but try as I might, I just did not have the build for it. He eventually got sick of trying the easy way, and I found myself on the end of a beating every time I failed to meet his standards, or acted too girly for his tastes. My mother would stand by as he beat me, out of pure fear.

The minute he left to go back to base she would try to comfort me. I think, deep down, she knew I was different, and hated what my father was doing, but she was too afraid to protest. At 15, I found myself cornered in an alley by Jake Martinez and his lackeys, John and Bill Thomson, whilst on my way home one night.

I tried to fight back, but due to my small size, I was no match for one of them, let alone three. It was about an hour and a half before I was found by a shop keeper putting out his garbage, I was rushed to the hospital and spent nearly 8 weeks there from my injuries. Most of the damage was cuts and bruises, although I did have 2 broken ribs, that had to be removed, and several other bones were fractured.

I had managed to protect my head, but it had left other areas exposed to their abuse. The worst was having to have my testicles removed, as they had ruptured from repeated kicks. Needless to say, my father was not happy. The three who attacked me ended up in juvenile detention and I never saw them again.

My only visitors were my mother, her parents, and my best friend Stacy. My father refused to see me. As far as he was concerned, “I deserved it for being a pansy.” The doctors discussed hormone replacement therapy, but after running some tests, they discovered I was androgen insensitive.

My father hit the roof when they suggested I be put on oestrogens, after I had been seen by the hospital psychiatrist. The thought of his son being made into a girl was too much, and he nearly lost control and hit the doctor. The doctors warned my parents that not having any hormones would be dangerous to my health, but my father refused to listen.

Fortunately, my mother listened, and allowed the doctors to prescribe a minimum dose until I was old enough to decide myself. The minute I was 18 I went to my endocrinologist and, as I was androgen insensitive, I had no problem being given a larger dose of hormones to properly start off my puberty as a female.

Of course, I told no one... well except for Stacy. For years she knew I was a girl in my heart, and had helped me on a number of occasions. Most weekends we would meet at Stacy’s sister’s apartment, just a short distance from the local college. I had been unsure at first, but Stacy convinced me her sister would be ok with me.

I later found out Janet Stacy’s sister was a closet lesbian, hence the reason she lived away from home. She did not want to come out to her family until she left college. Anyway, of a weekend, I would be helped by Stacy and her sister to become my true self, Samantha. They taught me so much about being a girl, from hairdressing and make-up, to deportment. and even how to handle talking to guys.

Janet would drive us to the next town over so we could cruise the malls, shopping and hanging out. I had even amassed a small wardrobe of feminine clothes, which I kept at Janet’s. It wasn’t much, but that was okay as Stacy was my size and let me borrow from her wardrobe. It was the only time I was ever truly happy while growing up.

Anyway back to that fateful day, after two MP’s restrained my father I was escorted to my Commanding officer, where I found myself standing before both him and the medical examiner. They told me that I was medically unfit to be a marine and that I was to be discharged on medical grounds.

They told me that, as I was androgen insensitive, and had large amounts of oestrogen in my system, and that the breasts and shape I was growing into would cause a ruckus with other marines, it would be better for all concerned if I was quietly discharged. They wasted little time in escorting me back to the barracks to pack before shipping me off back home. I was glad, as I never wanted to join in the first place. My father had beaten me into joining, 2 weeks before.

When I arrived home my father had already arrived and gave me one hell of a beating before literally throwing me out. My mother and sister were sobbing, but could do nothing as I was forced from their lives and my home. Stacy tried to help, but was not able to do much, as Janet had moved after college, and Stacy was living in the dorms at the college Janet attended.

She managed to give me my female clothes and a little money and promised she would do her best to find me help. I tried to find work, but no one seemed to want someone who was thrown out of the marines, with no work experience or qualifications other than high school. I had done well in school and could have been on a scholarship if my father hadn’t forced me into joining the marines.

Then, two weeks ago, I got a call from Stacy telling me to meet her at a local mall. When I arrived, she jumped in the car and explained about this transsexual she had been reading about who had just opened a home to help girls like myself who were abused and abandoned. She told me she had contacted Cathilynn, the owner, and explained my situation.

I was amazed that such a place existed and was eager to go but I was running out of gas and had no money. It was a miracle I had managed to keep my phone alive by using the cars phone charger. Fortunately, Stacy came through for me again, giving me enough money for gas to get here and get some food.

Unfortunately, I had run out of money for food two days ago, and my car just about made it before running out of gas, but finally I am here. The only problem is, if they won’t help me what will I do, with no way back to my friend and no money to eat? My tummy growled loudly, letting me know its displeasure.

I lay there, huddled up on the back seat. I did not exactly smell nice, I washed when I stopped for gas, but four weeks without a bath or shower makes it impossible to keep clean, I hope they don’t turn me away because of the smell. My female clothes were still clean in the trunk, but I wouldn’t wear them before I was at clean too.

My last thoughts, before I drifted off to a restless sleep, were of what these people might be like; I mean I’ve had no contact with them, so as far as I know they could be murderers or rapists.

***Knock knock knock****

***Knock knock knock****

I stirred from my slumber, my eyes caked shut from dried sleep, my body stiff and aching from the cold and cramped conditions, and my tummy growled again complaining at the lack of food.

***Knock knock knock****

I sat up, hearing a knocking sound. I cracked open my eyes and winced from the bright light from the rising sun just peeking over the horizon. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to focus. I could hear a muffled voice and turned to see the silhouette of a woman through the fogged up windows. I rubbed my eyes, which helped focus them slightly, before winding down the rear passenger window.

“Can I help you?” her voice was pleasant, but I detected a slight unease.

“I’m erm...I” I spluttered, scared to reveal my female name, unsure if this was the right place and the right people.

“It’s alright sweetheart, we won’t hurt you, you can tell us. In fact why don’t we go in the warm building and get you a coffee to help warm you up and then you can talk to us.”

I nodded and got out the car, hugging my blanket around me trying to hold back the cold morning air as I followed the woman into the building. I noticed, on entry, there were a few others seated around a dining table drinking coffee.

A woman, who I took for being in her 60’s, smiled and stood up, before making her way around the table. Giving me a once over, with a kindly smile she took my hand.

“I’m Cathilynn. Have you been out in the cold all night child?”

I nodded, with tears in my eyes, not knowing what else to say to this kind looking woman.

“Right, well come on in dear. Do you have any other clothes?”

“Yes they're in the trunk of my car,” I said nervously, not knowing what she was thinking.

“Sandra? Could you and Irene be dears and bring in any bags from the trunk while I get this frozen child in the bath to get clean and warm before we make introductions?”

The woman who brought me in nodded and took the keys as I was escorted to a bathroom on the next floor, where Cathilynn began filling a bath adding some berry smelling oils.

“Come on dear, don’t be shy. Get out of those clothes. You haven’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

I blushed, but complied, stripping down to my panties, which I changed every day thanks to having a decent supply. My budding breasts didn’t go unnoticed by Cathilynn.

“You’re very pretty, apart from your hair. Let me guess, marines perhaps?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re not a deserter are you?” she asked, eyeing me warily.

“No ma’am.”

“It’s Cathilynn. We're not on ceremony here,” she said, in a motherly tone that brooked no argument.

“Yes ma... Cathilynn.”

She smiled warmly.

“Right, get in and get warm, I’ll be back in a short while to check on you.”

I nodded, as I removed my panties before stepping in the warm water, then quickly sitting and immersing myself fully, relishing in the feeling of hot water on my soft skin. I almost drifted off before Cathilynn returned, followed by Sandra carrying my one of my bags each. They set them down and Sandra left, after being asked by Cathilynn to get my car taken care of and put in safe parking.

I quickly washed my hair, followed by my body, as Cathilynn chatted to me gently probing for information. Before long I was clean, and Cathilynn held a huge towel for me to step into. It felt so soft on my skin as I patted myself dry.

“Do you mind?” asked Cathilynn, indicating my bags.

I shook my head.

Cathilynn opened the bags and began looking through my small array of clothes, picking out a black pair of panties and matching bra, closely followed by my ankle length denim skirt and a roll neck sweater. I quickly donned my panties and bra before getting my make-up bag from my other bag.

Within fifteen minutes, I had applied a little eyeshadow, some eyeliner, mascara, and a little blush. Then I put on my skirt, roll neck sweater and a pair of kitten heel pumps. Finally adding my lip-gloss, during which time Cathilynn had located my long brunette wig and had carefully brushed it out, tidying it up.

I quickly put on the skull cap before securing my wig. Cathilynn gave me a warm smile.

“You’re very beautiful my dear. Are you ready for some breakfast?”

I nodded, feeling a little unsure of myself. I wanted to make a good impression on these people and was scared they would reject me. I quickly put my make-up away and followed Cathilynn back to the dining room.

“You have a seat dear,” said Cathilynn as Sandra placed a breakfast in front of me comprised of toast, eggs and bacon, while Irene poured me a coffee.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

I took small bites, savouring the taste of the food. I wasn’t at the point of starving, but I was very hungry. Still I minded my manners as everyone else drank their coffees waiting for me to finish. As I swallowed the last mouthful and sipped my coffee, Cathilynn spoke.

“What can we call you dear?”

I looked down at the table feeling very self-conscious. “Samantha,” I managed to mumble.

“Would you happen to be the friend of Stacy Sumner by any chance?”

I nodded, as tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

Cathilynn moved round and gathered me up in a motherly hug.

“Sssshhh child, its okay. You’re safe here and we’ll help. You have a very good friend in Stacy, I could tell you mean a lot to her. She told me about all you had been through and we’ll help as much as we can. Did Stacy explain much to you?”

I shook my head “No. She just said that I could find help here and that you’d understand,” I said softly.

“And we will. We plan to help many here, but you must help too, like a family should do. I want people here who not only need help, but who also want to help others in return, whether it be with cooking, cleaning or help with make-up and deportment. Do you have any skills you can share?” asked Cathilynn.

I nodded, “I’m good at cooking. I can sew, as I want to be a clothes designer. I can also help with deportment and other things like that, especially make-up.”

Cathilynn smiled “I can see that. I think you’ll do fine here dear.”

I smiled, finally looking forward in my life. As I sat there in Cathilynn’s warm embrace I felt at peace. I sent a silent prayer, thankful that I had a little help from my friend.

The End of the Beginning.