Totally Insane 5–Afterword
by Angharad

I sincerely wished I was a witch, I’d have turned my brother into the toad he really is!

“Did you hear me, fairy?”

“I heard you, pigface.”

“Watch it, you faggot, or else!”

“Or else what?” The voice of my mother intervened, “Well, Brian, or else what?”

“Nothing!” he said sulkily.

“Yes, just remember that: nothing. If I hear anything–just the slightest squeak out of you about Kylie, I shall take you to the vet and have him do the same to you as he did to the kitten. Understand?”

I gasped and nearly wet myself, sniggering as quietly as I could. The kitten had been ‘doctored’ and grew up to be quite a docile tom. I wonder if it would work with Brian, I’d help towards the cost. Hee hee!

“You, missy,” my mother said sternly to me, “forgot to take the washing out of the machine. It won’t dry in there, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Mummy, I won’t forget again.”

“Okay, I think Philip rang, are you going to call him back?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t be all day, Gemma and her mum will be here soon.”

“Okay, Mummy.” I dialled Philip’s number and hoped he answered it.

My luck wasn’t in, his mother answered. “Hello, Kyle, I’ll call him, hold on.”

He arrived a few moments, later. “Hi, Kyle or is it still Kylie?”

“Kylie,” I said shyly and felt myself blush.

“Is she like, gonna be around tomorrow?”

“You mean, am I like, going to be around tomorrow?

“Yeah, that’s like, what I said.”

Rather than argue over what he did or didn’t say, I thought I’d change tack a little. “Like, why are you asking?”

“Like, I might wanna like, see you.”

“It might be okay, after school.”

There was a pause, then he said, “You’re like, gonna go to school like that?”

“No, but I can change when I get home, I ‘spect.”

“What about homework?”

“I’ll have to do that of course, but it doesn’t usually take me all night. Maybe we could do it together?”

“We don’t get all the same subjects, do we?”

“No but, we do like, share some lessons, don’t we?”

“I’ll have to ask my mum,” Philip complained.

“Yeah, so will I, but she seems pretty kewl with it.”

“Okay, talk tomorrow in school.”

“Yeah okay, an’ Philip–”

“Yeah, what?”

“I enjoyed our victory celebrations,” I blushed as I thought of him kissing me.

“What? Oh yeah, yeah it was like good, maybe we can celebrate some more after homework.”

“I’d like that.” I smirked as I put the phone down.

I was still smiling to myself when I went to help my mother make sandwiches, salmon and cucumber, my favourites.

“Oh, Kylie, I’m taking the morning off school tomorrow and so are you.”

“Why, Mummy?” this was possibly good news but could also be less good news!

“I’m taking you to see the doctor and see where we need to go next.”

“Do we need to, I’m not ill or anything?”

“Yes we do, firstly to see if he thinks you’re transgendered or not–”

My heart rose and fell. Yesterday I didn’t think I was, until last night and again today, then I knew I was.

“Do you like, think I am, Mummy?”

“I suspect you might be, but we need to get expert advice before you commit yourself to changing your gender more permanently.”

Wow, permanently! Did I want to do something that lasted forever? I mean I wasn’t even sure I wanted to eat chocolate ice cream forever, this was serious stuff. “What are we going to do about my hair and my nails?”

“You can wash your hair tomorrow and I’ll help you set it, you can keep your nails for the doctor to see how pretty you are.”

“What? You like, want me to like, go to the doctor’s like this?”

“Yes, I should like that very much, and it will give him a chance to see you for himself.”

“I like, dunno, if that’s like, a good idea.”

“What is there to be afraid of, we’ve been out shopping, you played badminton, and you went babysitting, not to mention rescuing Mrs Johnson and baby Sarah. You told her you wanted to be a girl.”

I blushed, this was moving rather too quickly for me. I loved being Kylie, and I didn’t want to change back into being a boy just yet. However, doing it all the time, I wasn’t so sure. What would the others think? Why are all nice things nasty in the end?

Gemma and her mother arrived whilst I was still rapt in my own thoughts and I am sure that I actually jumped off the ground when the doorbell rang. I timidly opened the door and peeped around it. “Oh hi, Mrs Smith, Gem, do come in.”

I stepped aside on quaking knees. “Hi, Kylie, these are for you,” said Gemma handing me a bunch of flowers, picked from her garden.

“For me, ooh, how lovely!” I squealed. I’d never had flowers given to me before.

Mrs Smith gave a similar bunch to my mother as they embraced and air kissed. I gave Gemma a hug, and we air kissed too. It was social contact with a nice person, but I think I preferred kissing Philip.

“If you want to go and chat with Gemma, be back here in half an hour for tea.”

“Yes, Mummy. C’mon Gem, I’ll pop these in water and we can go up to my room.” I led her into the kitchen and grabbed a vase which I filled three quarters full of water, then chopped off the end of the flower stalks and put them gently into the vase. I had no idea of what I was doing, but they looked okay to me.

“That looks really nice, Kylie.”

“It does? I wouldn’t know, no one has ever given me flowers before.”

“Awww, well they have now, and I think you’re going to be such a fox, you’ll never have to buy them yourself ever again.” Gemma smiled, I knew she was exaggerating to boost my self esteem, but it was nicer than Brian and his put downs.

We carried them upstairs to my room and I put them on my chest of drawers along with my ancient teddy bear and dinosaur skeleton model.

“Oh,” said Gemma, “I thought this would look more boyish, or did I? It wouldn’t have surprised me if it was a bit more girly, but never mind. Are you going to get a dressing table?”

“I erm, dunno, do I need one?”

“You gotta have somewhere to do yer makeup, girl.”

“I’ve got the mirror on the wardrobe, or I can use the bathroom, like I did yesterday.”

“Yeah, but what happens if someone else wants to use the bathroom?”

“Erm, it hasn’t happened yet.”

“But it will, girl, it will –you take it from me. Get your mother to organise one for you; you won’t regret it. How did the badminton go?”

“We lost in the final.”

“Wow, you did really well then.”

“We’d have won it except I got cramp and had to retire.”

“What?”

“We were better than the other pair, but I got bloody cramp.”

“Wow, so you were runners up?”

“Yep, but we shoulda won it.”

“But, Kylie, wouldn’t it have got in the paper if you had?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but we still shoulda won.”

“In my chicken bum knickers?”

“Yep.” We both giggled helplessly for several minutes.

“So what did Philip think?”

“Of me in your chicken bum knickers?”

“No, you loony,” she giggled, “of being runners-up?”

“He kissed me.”

“HE WHAT?” She looked shocked for a moment, then sniggered.

“He kissed me,” I blushed and smiled embarrassedly.

“And you enjoyed it, too, didn’t you?”

I nodded and smirked while Gemma giggled.

“Girls, it’s tea time,” called my mother and so we washed our hands and went downstairs.

I helped my mother put everything out on the table and she made the tea, while I finished loading the table with cakes and scones and sandwiches.

“Gosh this looks good,” said Mrs Smith, “is there anything we can do to help?”

“That’s okay, Kylie and I have everything under control, or as much as we ever shall.” We all laughed politely at this.

Small talk ensued in between the sound of crocks, cutlery and eating noises, nothing profoundly serious or stupendously funny was said and we were all well behaved– including the adults!

“What about Brian, isn’t he eating?” Gemma asked.

“He can have his pick of the leftovers afterwards, he’s grounded for being beastly to his sister,” my mother answered the question. I suspect that he was left out for reasons of his past behaviour and his potential to wreck my credibility with Mrs Smith.

Gemma stayed for about another hour and then they went home. Mummy and I cleared up and made another pot of tea and Brian was called down to help himself to the leftovers. He made short work of them.

That night, I slept in the nightdress again and began to enjoy its feel. I wondered that, even if I wasn’t really transwhatevered, I might keep some of the clothes, including this nightie–If they let me.

I dreamt I was in with the doctor and he kept telling me I was a boy, so why was I acting so stupidly? I woke up in a lather over that one, and lay there heart pounding because it could be prophetic of what was going to happen.

Mummy woke me later that morning, “Come on, Kylie, time to get up. My goodness, look at your hair, you need to wash it; come along, in the shower please.”

It was Monday morning and barely seven. Normally, I’d be still fast asleep, falling out of bed, into the shower and then down, quick breakfast and out to school. Now I was shampooing my hair and had instructions to use conditioner. It did make combing it easier afterwards and it shone like it was polished.

I was smelling all flowery and had to wear the red skirt and top again along with the red shoes. I did my own makeup, trying to psych myself up into making the best of a bad job. I remembered hearing the story in history, that when Charles I, was executed, he wore two shirts because it was a cool morning and he didn’t want the crowd to think he was shivering from fear.

I didn’t want my mother to think I was incapacitated by fear, even if it was probably the case. I smudged my mascara and had to do it all again! Finally, I was ready and ate my breakfast. Well I chased it around the cereal bowl, then had to rush to the toilet. Carry on at this rate, I’d need to see the doctor to stop my ‘squits’!

While I was in the loo, Mummy phoned and made an appointment with the doctor for ten– who the other nine were, I didn’t know! Damn, it was nearly nine already. I dithered and went to the loo again, and again.

Then we were at the health centre and waiting. The room was full of all ages, old people grumbling and rubbing their knees, younger ones coughing and spluttering over everyone else, children who were running amok or fidgeting driving their mothers crazy, and us. I sat trying not to think about how surreal this whole thing felt. It was crazy. I dress up to do a favour for my brother and now look at me. I was even thinking about what to wear when Philip came around, if Mummy says it’s okay, she will if I ask her right.

“Mrs Mosse, room four,” boomed the receptionist.

“Come on, girl, that’s us.”

I gulped and was close to tears, she held out her hand, and I clutched it like a drowning man and the proverbial straw. She squeezed my hand, and the next moment she was knocking and entering a small room and I was pulled along behind her.

“Hello, Mrs Mosse. Oh, who’s this?”

“This is Kylie.”

“Hello, Kylie,” offered the doctor.

I nodded.

He looked at his computer, “I don’t have a Kylie on my list do I?”

“Not as such.”

He looked at her, then at me, then at her.

“This is Kyle,” she said after taking a deep breath. The doctor looked at her, then at me, his eyes widening. “I came home from work on Friday, to find my ‘daughter’ putting her bike away in the garage. There was a reason which I won’t go into for the impersonation, which involved her elder brother. In order to confront him, I made Kyle remain as Kylie to see what he did. She seemed so easy in the role that I pushed a bit harder and before we knew it she spent the whole weekend as a girl. She seemed to be so at ease that I thought we needed to speak to you and see where we go next, if anywhere.”

“Right!” he said, then paused as if he was making it up as he went along. “Is this true, Kylie, do you enjoy being a girl?”

I shrugged, “I suppose so,” I shrugged again, “are you going to lock me up?”

“Lock you up? What for?”

“In a loony bin,” I said and sniffed back a tear. My mother squeezed my hand.

“Certainly not. You sure do look the part, but I’m no expert in these things, so I’m going to have to refer you to someone who is. Is that okay with you both?”

“Yes, we thought you might have to, didn’t we, girl?” said my mother and I nodded my agreement.

“Do you like being called a girl?” asked the doctor.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“Alright, girl, I’m going to ask for an urgent appointment, but it will possibly take a few weeks. I hope that’s okay?”

“What about a private one?” asked my mother.

“If that’s what you want, I could probably get you one for the end of the week. The doctor I’m thinking of, is very good with these sorts of issues, but she won’t come cheap.”

“That’s okay,” said my mother.

I just felt numb.

“You make quite a pretty girl, Kylie.”

“Thank you, doctor.” I managed to say while trying to stop myself shaking.

“What about school?” he asked.

“I’m keeping her off today.”

“I think with this all surfacing so quickly, I’m going to suggest a week off, just to leave off one bit of stress. I’m also going to give you some pills if the anxiety gets too bad, okay. Don’t take them unless you have to. Are you sleeping okay?”

“I had some bad dreams.” I confessed.

“Like what? Can you remember them?” asked the doctor.

“Like coming here and you being cross with me for wanting to be a girl, telling me I was disgusting or mad.”

He reached out and held my other hand. “Kylie, I’m here to help you not pass judgement. You are neither disgusting nor mad, you’re actually rather cute, if that doesn’t make me sound too much of an old fart.”

I smiled at him.

“No make that, rather pretty, when you smile. I hope I can help you decide what you want to do and find a way of doing it. I don’t honestly know what’s involved, because it is a relatively rare situation, especially in childhood. However, if you were going to become a girl permanently, we need to move fast to stop you developing masculine traits. I think, we should be able to do that without causing you to have to chose just yet, sort of delay puberty, but we can’t do it indefinitely, so at some point you will have to decide. The lady, to whom I am referring you, should be able to help you decide.”

“Is she a psychiatrist?” I asked.

“Yes, a paediatric one, why?”

“I thought they only saw crazy people.”

“Good gracious no, they see people with mental health issues, most of whom are as sane as you and me. Well sane as you, I’ve been crazy for years.” He pulled a face and I laughed. “Being unsure of your gender, is a mental health issue, because gender is a psychological thing, it’s not just what happens between your legs or in your chromosomes.”

“Thank you, Dr Brown.” I felt at least he was on my side and wasn’t making me choose anything yet.

“Can I ask you something, Kylie.”

“Yes of course.”

“Have you got to the stage of having crushes on other boys or girls yet?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, although I did.

“Do you fancy boys or girls in general or specifically? Does anyone turn you on?”

“I don’t know, not yet anyway.”

“She spent the night with her girl friend, Gemma, didn’t you sweetheart?” Offered my mother.

“Oh, did anything happen?” asked the doctor.

“No, of course not, I’m not lesbi–!” I blushed.

“So you see getting rather friendly with a girl as being lesbian?” asked Dr Brown.

I felt tears in my eyes now overflowing down my cheeks. I shook my head, “I don’t know.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not judging you, I’m trying to understand how you feel, that’s all. Have you kissed a boy yet?”

I nodded and my mother’s eyes widened.

“It’s okay, if that’s what you feel inclined to do, it’s okay as long as he wants to kiss you back. I take it he did?”

I nodded my response.

He squeezed my hand again. “I’m no expert in these things, but it could well be that you might be happier as a girl. Is that what you think, too?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Kylie, Dr Brown asked you a question, please give him an answer.”

“Sometimes,” I said and the tears started again.

“Okay, Kylie, I shall expedite this appointment as quickly as I can so we can help you resolve this issue.

“Am I just a fairy, like my brother says?” I said blushing through my tears.

“Turn around,” he said to me.

I let go his hand and that of my mother, and did as he asked. I felt him touch my back.

“No, you’re definitely not a fairy, leastways, there aren’t any wings there that I can feel. Of course you may be a fairy princess and not actually need them, or maybe, being a troll, your brother can see things this mere mortal can’t. But I wouldn’t worry about it, either way.”

Anyone who saw Brian as a troll, was okay with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diolch yn fawr to Gabi for express editing and to Trish for the term 'chicken bum knickers'.

Any errors, etcetera are entirely my responsibility - Angharad.