I remember the first time I saw that outfit. I was, once again, in my sister's bedroom watching her as she got ready for yet another date. I would lay on her bed and watch her spend hours, ok not really but felt like it, doing her makeup just so and then her hair. When she was done she would turn to me and say "So?"

Usually I would comment on how beautiful she was or something. That time though When she turned away and went to search through her pile of shoes for her outfit I spotted a new outfit hanging just inside the door.

It was a red top made of slightly fussy but not really material that sorta glowed all by itself. Hanging from the bottom on its own hanger was a black pleated skirt that was short. I just stared at it until its image was burnt in my mind.

The closet door closed on it and it seemed that somehow the room was plainer after the door shut. Its amazing how hard it is to describe that moment. My sister stood up with her purse, she has quite a few, and had put on her shoes. She of course shooed me out of her bedroom and that should have been that.

The next few days I couldn't get the look of the outfit out of my head at all. Eating I would think about the top, walking the skirt and how it would feel swishing around my thighs. I would go to bed and it was almost like I could feel the outfit on me.

I guess you could say it was calling me. I tried really really hard to ignore it and put it out of my mind. Weeks went by and I couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. My sleep was fitful at best and after weeks and weeks I was probably looking pretty bad. My mom , who is a single parent after my dad passed away 4 years ago from a really silly accident at work, took one look at me that morning and told me to stay home and get some sleep. She was worried I could tell.

My sister had already left with her current boy flame for highschool. I went upstairs and soaked in the bathtub for an hour then went to bed to lay down. As soon as I closed my eyes there was the outfit. I napped for maybe 40 minutes. When I got up I knew I had to do something. Maybe just a feel or look at the outfit would make it stop.

I went into my sisters room and opened the door of her closet. It took me a few minutes to find it but I did, I pulled them out shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. I couldn't understand why I was shaking so badly but I did. I reverently laid them down gently on top of her frilly feminine bedspread and just stared. I knew it was wrong and I would get in big trouble if caught.

I huddled my knees to my chest as I sat on the floor of my sisters bedroom imagining just about every possible way to get in trouble. I even cried because of my confusion over something as simple as two pieces of cloth. I got angry and grabbed them both and stomped to her closet fully intending to put them back. I found where I had pulled them from in the mass of outfits and hangers and even put them back into their spots. They were near each other and for some unknown reason my fingers on one hand closed around the ends of each, the skirt in two fingers and the thumb and finger on the top.

I almost closed the door on my hand. I jerked my hand back quickly not realizing what was in my fist. The door closed and I breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards her door. It took about 30 seconds for me to realize something was in my hand. When I looked down and saw both the skirt and top in my hand I fell to the floor and cried and cried. I tried to let them go really I did. I couldn't it was almost like something was driving me to do this.

I felt insane and tried two more times shedding tears left and right to put them away. Both times failed. I put them back onto the bed and grabbed the phone in my sisters room and started to dial her cell number. I stopped partway through. What was I supposed to say? How could I possibly explain what was going on?

I crawled out of her room, that took ALOT of effort btw, and went downstairs to look at the time and maybe grab something to munch on. The dill pickle potato chips I found in a cupboard tasted like cardboard. The water like acid. Something wasn't right. And to top it of I started shaking again.

My sister had once or twice over the years dressed me, her little brother, up to be her pretend sister for an hour or so, but I never once felt like this at all. While we had had fun during those times I had never felt any reason to "be a girl". This outfit was calling me though. It was wrong, so wrong for me to even think about some stupid outfit. I could never call it ugly or anything but pretty even in my mind.

I had spent most of the morning over that damnable outfit and its overwhelming effect on me. For some reason I looked at the digital clock on the kitchen microwave and saw 11:00 on it. I panicked and ran upstairs to try once again to put the outfit away just incase my sister decided to come home early. Heck I even worried about my mother doing the same.

I got to within 2 feet of the outfit on the bed and stopped. Not just walking, but stopped worrying, being scared, everything. I just HAD to know what It felt like to wear. Before I realized what I was doing my pajama top and bottom were on the floor and I was moving towards the outfit. It seems like it took all of 3 seconds and tada I was wearing it.

It was like I was home in the outfit. Everything seemed brighter, more lively and so much better just wearing it. Unfortunately I went to look at myself in my sisters mirror on her dresser. There I was in my sisters skirt and top doing of all things twirling in it back and forth seeing how I looked. I felt more alive than I had in weeks and almost giddy with happiness.

I say almost because when I looked something was not right. The top looked too flat. I took it off and searched through my sisters dresser drawer till I found a black lace bra. I also found some jelly like globs that I remember my sister using years ago when she growing into her bras. These slipped into the bra that had somehow become wrapped around my chest, honestly I don't remember putting it on at all! They were COLD! it took a minute before they started to be less cold. I could live with it and danced to the top and put it back on. Better much better but still... something was not right.

I noticed the edges of my male y fronts poking out the bottom. Suddenly I was back in my sisters dresser finding black panties to match the bra. I found them and then did the stupidest thing. I tucked my shame between my legs to give me a smooth front. Don't ask me where my underwear went because I really do not know.

Again I pranced infront of that mirror swishing from side to side. Again something was not right. My arms and legs looked too hairy. I almost ran into my sisters bathroom and used one of her pink disposable razors and some soap and got rid of the disgusting hair. I felt enormously better with each stroke while also feeling ashamed of myself. This was wrong but why did it feel so darn good?

I was starting to dread that mirror after I cleaned up my hair mess. I went back in front of it and yep still not quite right. Next came a pair of new black pantyhose. It was like electric fire on my legs! I couldn't get over the feeling. In a sense from what I had heard of orgasms you could say I was having one just putting them on. It felt soooo good. I needed more though. I took them off and spotted my toenails. I spent a good few minutes filing and shaping my toenails like I had seen my sister do and even put on some of her nail polish. When they dried, fast dry nail polish, I put on the pantyhose again and it was great!.

Again however that darn mirror told me something was not quite right. So I sat in my sisters vanity seat and looked in the mirror. I have never worn makeup before but I have seen my sister put it on so many times I knew what to do.

Foundation on a sponge hid the few blemishes on my creamy skin and with a bit of powder to seal the base my skin looked flawless. However even the small mirror of the vanity told me I wasn't done. I was shaking as I used some of my sister's blush, a light brown, to highlight my cheeks. Next came a eye pencils to edges of my eye. It was almost comical how I shook so bad until the tip touched my eyelid then it was super steady. It took me three tries on each eyelid to get it on. Not all the way across just the outer edge.

I next saw this metal like scissor thing I saw my sister use on her eyelashes before and after applying mascara. It seemed to make my lashes stand up and look luscious. Three coats of mascara and they looked soo pretty. I used a magazine article that was open on the vanity to put on three different shades of eyeshadow. Each color adding to the other but not looking tacky. I found some light red lipstick and put that on. The lipstick was bulky and smudged a bit. So I redid it, on the fourth try it looked ok.

I should have stopped there and undid what I could but I didn't. My eyebrows didn't look right and from the same magazine it showed how to pluck ones eyebrows into the right shape. I was possessed as I did first one then the other eyebrow. Gone were the bushy male brows I had had. In their place was delicate feminine eyebrows. I sorta felt depressed I had done it but some euphoria was carrying me onwards. I just knew I couldn't stop now.

I played with my hair in the same way my sister did so many times. It was not short as I had it pulled back into a ponytail most of the time. I brushed and worked my hair for quite awhile. It was better and almost feminine but not quite right. I remember seeing the hair fall infront of my eyes onto the vanity as I trimmed my bangs not short but long enough that with a bit of curling with give me a definite female haircut just like my sisters. I used a bit of gel mouse and hairspray and in minutes I had my sisters preferred style well almost. It was similar but not the same mine was way prettier.

I got up and looked in that blasted mirror again thinking I was all done. I should have been done. But alas. Something was not right. I spotted my sisters jewelry box and knew what was missing. Now in hindsight I have no idea how I did this or why it went so easy, but in minutes I had on a gold necklace, gold tiny wristwatch, and gold heart shaped stud earrings. Yes studs! And my ears were not pierced at all! Again something wasn't right and after a few minutes of filing on my fingernails and three coats of red polish they were done, with a single ring on index finger of left hand. I next went searching for shoes and found some black 1 in spike heel shoes that fit me, I guess they were my sisters old ones. With the shoes I added a gold ankle bracelet. Next I found just the right black purse to sling over my shoulder.

When I looked into the mirror this time I knew I was right. However I needed the big mirror from downstairs in the living room to make sure. I was almost in excitement to see the full effect!

Surprisingly I only stumbled once getting to the living room to see the new me in the floor to ceiling mirror. When I got there it was everything my dreams had said it would be. I was ecstatic! In the mirror was a very pretty girl ready for her first date! It was my sister but it wasn't. I looked and looked but as much as I knew it was me it didn't look like the boy me.

I was so enthralled with myself I never noticed either the time of day nor the house door close. I stood there just looking and twirling and giggling in pure joy I didn't are about anything.

"Keith?" The words of my sister dropped like ice. I turned around so slowly it seemed like forever when I did and saw the shocked look in my sisters eyes. I could have died.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!!" I screamed. I then ran up the stairs and locked myself not in my bedroom, or my sisters, but in the bathroom instead. I still don't know why.

I sat in there for what seemed like hours crying nonstop for what I had done to myself. During that time mom came home and she and my sister were talking in the kitchen. I couldn't hear their words but from the tone it was about me.

I still couldn't get myself undressed in any way. Its silly and stupid but I wanted then to see me. But I also didn't.

The bathroom lock is courtesy lock meaning it can be unlocked from the outside with a pin. Which is exactly what my mother did. It took her and my sister both to get me out of the bathroom since I was at this point mostly cried out and somewhat exhausted.

They took me to my sisters room and cleaned off the ruined makeup and reapplied it. Then with a bit of brushing I was brought downstairs for supper. I spent that entire meal non speaking. Mom would correct me on my table manners as if I was really her daughter. I was waiting for the yelling, screaming anything but it didn't happen. It was surreal.

After supper where I helped both my sister amd mother wash and dry dishes all the while they kept talking to me like I was just another girl. It was freaking me out more than a little.

We finally sat down in the living room where I was taught how to sit properly in a such a short skirt. No you don't tuck it under if its that short you actually fluff it back.

"Katie don't you think its about time you told us what is going on?" My mother asked.

"My name is Keith." I mumbled.

"No my son was named Keith however its apparent he isn't here right now. My youngest daughter was to be named Kathleen so your Katie."

It took me a while before I let it all out. In the end we were all crying and using tissues to blot our eyes. They had known something was wrong with me for a long time but not what. It seems I never played with boys growing up only girls. I just never noticed. I still think of myself as a boy though and I still have a part of me that says something inst right but unlike that day where I first put on this outfit its not a driven need.

"So Doctor can you help me to be sane and stop this dressing?"

"Well Katie, you don't mind if I call you Katie do you?"I shook my head."I think we should have a couple more sessions and some with both your sister and mother before I can determine what needs to be done ok?

I Bit my lower lip and nodded.

"I think you are a very brave girl to come here today in your outfit and you are NOT crazy."

Again I nodded.

The physiologist then turned to my mother.

"Ms Harrison I would like to see you and Kathleen in about a weeks time is that possible?"Mom nodded." Very good come with me and I have a small prescription to keep her calm during this tough time.." Her voice faded as they walked away.

I still think I am slightly crazy and shouldn't be this way. Its wrong very wrong.

Perhaps one day I look back on this my first journal entry and laugh at myself.