- - -Warning: This chapter deals with attempted suicide. Reader discretion is advised.- - -
Sunday evening was the worst time I'd spent in my room since I'd finally realized who I was. AJ, the doll, looked down on me sadly as if to say, 'I'm sorry it turned out this way.'

"I'm sorry too, AJ. You know, I'm going to have to give you a different name if I have any hope of not completely confusing anyone else I talk to about you."

'Then just don't tell them.'

"Easy for you to say. You're a doll and my imaginary friend from childhood. I'm the only one you talk to."

'Nah, I talk to the dust bunny up here. Do you ever dust this shelf?'

Sure, it had only been my own thoughts, but I started to laugh. I wonder if this is what Jeff Dunham is like at home?

"Someone's in a good mood."

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, yourself."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not with me, or your father. We're actually very proud of you. Scoot over. I brought supplies and I want to attack your hair."

I smiled and moved over to the edge of the bed. Mom began to remove my tiara of hair.

"You know, this was really comfortable on Saturday morning, but it's just gotten irritating recently."

"Probably because of the bobby pins in there to keep it in place."

"And my head itches and I can't scratch the right places."

"We'll get it brushed out, and that should take care of most of the itches."

I sat there for a moment, and then I began to squirm a little. Something occurred to me, and I wasn't sure I was ready to bring it up.

"Anne-Jeanette, sit still."

"Sorry, mom."

I tried to sit still, but I felt like I was coming out of my skin.

"Anne-Jeanette. Please hold still. You're worse than a two-year-old right now."

"Sorry."

I tried again to sit still, but decided that until I got my mind on something else, or simply talked to my mom about this, that I wouldn't be able to move on.

"Mom, how do I know when I'm ready to have sex?"

My mom stopped brushing my hair, and sat there for a moment or two.

"This is about Shawn, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

She began to brush my hair again.

"Anne-Jeanette, I can tell you all day long that you're too young, or that you don't have the right equipment, but in the end, no matter what I say, the fact that you're asking me that question means you've decided you're ready."

"Mom…"

"No, I don't approve. Especially not before your surgery, and probably not until you're married."

My mom took a deep breath before she continued.

"Honey, I was your dad's first, but he wasn't mine. The first man I slept with was handsome and funny. At least I thought so at the time. We'd been dating, off and on, for almost two years. I was sure that he was 'the one' and that we'd live happily ever after.

"He dumped me as soon as we had sex. He said he didn't date sluts."

"Oh, mom."

"I don't figure that Shawn is anything like that boy, considering that my father told me repeatedly he didn't want me dating him. Neither your father nor I have that sort of a feeling about Shawn. We've talked about it.

"That doesn't change all the other problems associated with having sex with him."

"I'm sure he doesn't have any diseases."

"Really? You've asked? And what about getting pregnant?"

Oh, yeah, sex equals pregnancy.

Both of those concepts regarding me had been in my head. I wanted to have sex, preferably with Shawn. I wanted, eventually, to get pregnant.

I'd never considered that having sex with Shawn could get me pregnant. There were parts of my mind that still thought of me as male. Boys get people pregnant, they don't get pregnant.

And while I shouldn't have sex right after my surgery, I was apparently ovulating right now. If I did have sex then, I would be most likely to become pregnant.

Could it be that some of my drive to be with Shawn right now was my body saying it wanted to be pregnant?

And this was going to happen to me every month?

"Mom, do you get more horny before your period?"

"Actually, no. I don't. And I find this line of questioning a bit uncomfortable."

"Sorry."

I calmed down a bit after that, but some thoughts still concerned me. Well, two more days and I'd have a reason to avoid Shawn in a more intimate setting for a while.

I spent the rest of the day with my hair loose and flowing. It was strange after years of keeping it in at least a braid, but it was also freeing in a way too.

I could take care of my hair more easily right now than I could have just last week.

I walked past the mirror in my room, watching how my hair flowed.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Shawn!"

I ran over to him and kissed him fully on the lips. I felt something begin to grow between us and I released him and giggled.

"Hey, you."

"I love you, Shawn."

"What?"

Oh, crap.

I began to blush, and tried to hide myself in my hair. Hiding my face was easy.

"Anne-Jeanette, I–"

"I know, it's too soon, and I shouldn't have said it."

I sat down on my bed with my back to him. Still hiding my face with my veil of hair.

He put his hands to the sides of my face and then pushed back my hair. He looked up into my eyes–from a kneeling position in front of me–searching for something there.

He must have found what he was looking for because he moved in for a kiss, and I let him come. Everything but my need for him disappeared as we continued to kiss. He gently laid me down on the bed, and moved over on top of me. Our torsos were closer in size than our heights would suggest.

I was completely lost in that kiss, but even so I felt his manhood pressing into me.

Everything my mom had told me was there, but I didn't care. I wanted him. I needed him.

I loved him.

The realization finally hit me that I couldn't have him. I was empty without him, and I couldn't have him.

I began to cry, and I just lost all of the heat that I'd been building up.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry."

"Do what? We're just kissing, AJ."

"No, this is foreplay, and you know it. I know you want me, but I can't have sex with you."

"But…"

I cried ever harder, and rolled out from under him. I stuck my nose to the wall, and he slid behind me and held me. I didn't deserve this man. I shouldn't be here. I tried to get up, and he held me in place.

Panic began to well up in me. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Shawn holding me shouldn't scare me, but it did.

He wasn't weak, and I had no leverage. I couldn't get free, no matter how I pushed. He was keeping me there with the strength of his arms.

Panic over took me then and I began to scream and push. I had to get out of there.

"Let me go. I have to go. Please let me go."

I was sobbing and pushing, but his arms were immobile.

"Let me GO, SHAWN!"

"AJ."

"I need to get up. Let me go, please!"

I was hysterical. I had to get out of here, but I couldn't. It was that first night in Juvie again. They had come for me and I wasn't ready for them. They were getting ready and laughing.

I began using my elbows, and kicking my feet. My attacker relaxed his grip a bit, and it was my turn. I threw him off my bed and whirled around to begin my attack. I pulled my arm back to throw my first punch, and there was Shawn with a bloody face, and fear in his eyes.

I must have slammed my head into his face while I was frantic to get free.

Then the fear registered.

I was just like Rita's husband. I was a monster.

"I'm sorry," I cried as the tears began to poor down my face.

All of the ways that I'd considered of removing myself in the past flashed through my mind. One of them would work in this situation. I needed to do something–anything–never to see that look on Shawn's face again.

The pool.

I didn't trust myself not to try to swim to the surface, so the fact that the pool cover was on was perfect. I would dive into the pool, and the cover would impede me enough that I'd not be able to get out.

This I knew from personal experience. I jumped into the pool with the cover on when I was seven and almost drowned.

Today I hoped to fix that.

I dived in and took a deep burning breath of the chlorinated water. The struggle began, but all that I could draw in was water, and a small smile overtook me in the midst of my panic.

I'd finally succeeded at one thing in my life. The burning continued, but it didn't matter as everything began to go black.

Just before I lost consciousness, I felt something grab onto my arm, but I was too weak to fight back.

Then everything went dark.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
There was no light, or tunnel, or anything. There was just a moment in which nothing mattered, and I was floating in the blackness. Then, a pain in my chest and lips pressed against mine. I began to realize that my chest was cold, and I wondered what had happened to my shirt.

"Anne-Jeanette, you don't get to leave me that easily."

"It's better this way. I can't hurt anyone anymore."

"You also can't make anyone happy anymore either."

"But, all I do is hurt people."

"I should have let you go."

"Why don't you then?"

I opened my eyes and looked at the dripping wet boy sitting above me.

"Let me go, Shawn. I'm not worth the aggravation."

I was surprised at how calmly I was talking to him. His serene expression was almost more confusing.

"I just tried to commit suicide. Why are you so calm?"

"Because I just saved your life, you stupid crazy beautiful wonderful girl. Because I love you, and would be an idiot to let a little thing like a bloody nose and my own stupidity ruin us."

"But I hurt you. I'm an abuser."

"I restrained you when I know you have issues. I'm the one who was wrong here. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Shawn, I have something to tell you."

"Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't."

I lay there looking up into his eyes, knowing he'd likely be repulsed by what I said next, or worse be even more turned on. It would destroy anything that our lives could be together, but I had to stop lying.

"I'm a boy, Shawn."

He looked confused, "What are you talking about, Anne-Jeanette?"

"I look like a boy down there. I'm going into surgery to fix that so my first period won't kill me, but I have a penis. I'm sorry, but I'm not the girl you think I am."

"But you have breasts."

I looked down at my chest and realized I was showing my bra to the world.

I blushed and tried to cover up.

"That's because I am genetically female."

"Well, you've got the inability to be logical down pat."

"Shawn!"

"It's true. You tell me first that you're a boy that has a penis and is going to have a period. You're one or the other, Anne-Jeanette. Are you a boy or a girl with a penis?"

Was it that simple? Could it be that I was making this all more complicated that it had to be?

"I'm a girl with a penis."

"Okay, then. Can I see it?"

"Shawn!" I blushed at him.

"Well, you are trying to convince me that I'm not gay. I want to see you naked."

"But, my parents…"

"I don't think they need to be a part of this."

I blushed some more after that. He led me by the hand up to my room. I took a deep breath and turned my back to him. My jeans were really difficult to take off, and I think that I might have wiggled my behind a bit as I worked them down. Then I slipped off my bra and panties.

I slowly turned around.

Shawn looked me up and down, "Ok, but some clothing out. You've got a sexy body, but your penis is weirding me out."

"What?"

"It's kind of a turn off–ruins the image I have of you as a girl."

I put on some clean dry panties and then turned back toward him, "This any better?"

"I think you need to put on more clothing than that."

"Why?"

"You know why, you tease. That makes you look so feminine it hurts."

"I could relieve some of that pressure for you."

"Nope, sorry. What I want you can't give me."

"And what do you want?"

He just looked at me and I giggled and began to get dressed.

"Anne-Jeanette?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't do that again, please?"

His arms came around me from behind and cupped my breasts. I just melted into him as he played with my nipples a little.

He stopped suddenly and let me go.

"Shawn!?"

"Well, I figure that turnabout is fair play."

I slapped him on the arm and finished getting dressed. We really needed to stop doing this or the two of us would be in a very intimate relationship before either of us was ready for it.

Hormones really pissed me off sometimes.

We went downstairs to find something to do, and spent time with my parents just having fun. Neither of them commented about my wet hair, but mom had a knowing smile. I let her continue to think whatever it was she was thinking.

Monday I was stuck in my room for school again, but that was more the norm than anything else.

Tuesday couldn't come soon enough in my opinion.

I went to bed that night hoping that nothing else would happen to cause problems with this perfect change to my life.

My last thought upon falling asleep was that I wanted to show Shawn my new equipment as soon as I felt up to taking our relationship forward.