Totally Insane 9–Aprés entrevue.
by Angharad

We were huddled in the cafeteria of the local supermarket; Mummy looked quite pink in the face–flushed–I think is the word. She was rather cross and Daddy looked quite guilty. We were drinking tea and I had a big chocolate muffin in front of me. Daddy says, they’re the only good thing to come out of the States, but he also says it’s not a proper muffin, which according to him is more like a scone thing. I don’t care, in a minute I’m going to eat all of this cake–yummy!

“How could that women accuse me of wanting to turn my son into a girl?” my mother said with anger.

“Calm down,Rosemary; she didn’t accuse you of any such thing. She simply asked if you were disappointed when we had two sons, instead of a boy and girl.”

“But I love my kids, boys or girls.” Now Mummy was close to tears and I felt very uncomfortable for her. I placed my hand on hers. She looked at me and smiled, “You’re such a nice kid, Kylie.”

“This is all my fault,” I said.

“No it isn’t, sweetheart, it’s no one’s fault,” my mother reassured me.

“Yes it is, if I hadn’t tried to help that…that troll, Brian, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Dr Schlessinger seemed to think it would,” said my dad.

“What? What did she say about me?” I was shocked.

“She said she couldn’t believe you’d only been a girl for a week. We told her that you had. She then said, that she couldn’t see any boy in you at all.”

“What? What does that mean?” I felt quite scared by that remark.

“I think it means, she thinks you’re a girl, sweetheart.” Now it was my mum’s turn to put her hand on mine.

I sat back on the chair in total shock, I didn’t feel hungry or thirsty any more. I didn’t feel anything, the room seemed to be spinning around.

“Kylie, Kylie, can you hear me?” My father was standing alongside me and was holding me.

“I erm…I feel…erm…sick.” My mother shoved a plastic bag in front of me and I threw up in it. I heard someone on the next table grumble about allowing sick children in a restaurant. Daddy said something pretty awful back, about them growing up or going back to their loony bin. If I hadn’t felt so sick, I’d have laughed.

A lady from the restaurant staff came to see if I was alright, which was nice of her. Mummy, told her I was, that it was travel sickness and would soon pass. She brought me a glass of water and took the bag of sick away.

“Are you okay now?” asked my mother.

I nodded, which wasn’t the best idea when you feel sick. “Yes, sorry I was sick, I couldn–“

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you couldn’t help it. You’ve had a bit of a shock, that’s all. Here drink some water and it’ll help to take the nasty taste away.”

I took the water, my hand was shaking and she steadied it, helping me to sip the water. It helped to calm me down.

“Is your little girl all right?” A man in a suit asked my parents. His badge said he was the manager.

“Yes, she’s okay, thank you?”

“There’s nothing we can do to help her?” asked the manager.

“No thanks, she got herself a bit worked up, it’s okay.”

“Very well, but if there should be, don’t hesitate to let us know.”

“You’re very kind, Mr erm–“

“Adams, Mark Adams.”

“Thanks very much,” said my dad and shook his hand. “I think the best thing we can do is to take her home.”

“Probably,” he agreed, “I’ve a girl about the same age. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He then went off to soothe the wrinkles in the people who were complaining and he offered them a free pot of tea. He’d gone by the time I felt able to walk.

As we left the shop, a young woman came up with a small bunch of carnations, “Mr Adams, sends these with his compliments.” She pressed the flowers into my hands.

“Wow, thank you,” I said and looked around. I caught sight of him in the distance; he waved and I waved back. My parents waved too.
“I think we’ll be doing our shopping here for the foreseeable future,” said my mother and laughed.

When we got home, I ate the muffin. I was going to poison it and give it to Brian, but the slug pellets were the wrong colour! “So does Dr Andrea think I’m a girl?” I asked, trying to understand what she had said.

“It looks that way,” replied my father, drinking his tea.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“Go back on Tuesday, and see her some more.”

“Is she gonna cut my winkie off?”

“No, poppet, she’s a shrink, that would be done by a surgeon if it’s done at all.”

Does that mean she could shrink it? I doubted it although I didn’t know why they called her sort of doctor, a shrink. Perhaps she can shrink things. I asked a question that wasn’t so questionable. “But won’t they need to cut it off if I’m a girl?”

“They don’t do such things lightly, you need to be properly assessed and the options explained to you and us. If, and it’s a big if, they decide it’s in your best interests and you agree, then surgery may be offered when you’re quite a bit older.”

“What, like thirteen?”

“I think a bit older than that kiddo. I don’t think they give hormones until you’re older than that, but they may give you anti-androgens.”

“Andy who?” I said.

“Not andy anyone, anti-androgens. Pills to stop you turning into a youth, like Brian.”

“Can we get them on Tuesday?” I asked and he laughed.

“What’s wrong with Brian?” he asked.

“Everything.”

“Like what?”

“He smells.”

“Okay, he could wash a bit more often, is that all?”

“So do his clothes.”

“That would go with the washing, anything else?”

“He swears.”

“Does he now, if I catch him, he’ll wish he hadn’t, and…”

“He hits me,” I showed the bruise he’d given me the other day on my left arm.

“He’s a boy I’m afraid, they do things like that and anyway I’ve already punished him for that.”

“He lies and he bullies me.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m trying to deal with that.”

“He laughs at me and calls me names.”

“That’s in hand, too.”

“He pinches your booze.”

“Does he now? I wondered why it was disappearing.” My father shook his head.

“Come on, little Miss Tell-Tale, you can help me get the dinner, and you need to put your flowers in water. I think you can send Mr Adams a thank-you note, we’ll do that after dinner.” Mummy had interrupted my revenge session, but hopefully, I had scored a few points and left Daddy to sort it out. With luck, Brian, will be grounded for about fifty years.

“Have I got to go back to being a boy?” I asked as I cut the ends off the stems before I put them in water.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, don’t you want to?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“What about school? You can’t stay away indefinitely.”

“I don’t know, I can’t go there as a girl, they’ll kill me.” I winced as I said it, as if I could feel the blows descending.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’ll sort something. I’ll speak to your head teacher.”

“No, don’t do that, he’s horrible, he’ll tell everyone.” I was feeling quite nauseous again.

“He can’t, Kylie, he’s required to keep this confidential.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not allowed to tell anyone.”

“Does it mean he’s not allowed to write it anywhere as well?”

“Probably not, why?”

“Well he could write it down and leave it for other people to see. It would be round the school in five minutes.”

“Kylie, I’m sure that wouldn’t happen and we have to tell them something. How do you think it would look if we were seen to not be complying with the Education Act, especially as I’m a teacher?”

“So that’s more important than me?”

“Don’t be silly, you are the most important person in my life, along with your brother and Daddy.” She hugged me. “But we have to obey the law, which says we have to send you to school unless there’s a very good reason. You are too young to stay home by yourself, so we need to sort something out, maybe, even a change of school.”

I felt like running away, but as I wouldn’t be able to decide what to wear, I decided I’d stay a bit longer. Then there was Philip, if I swapped schools would I see him? He might find another girl.

“Kylie, you’re supposed to be putting those in some water before they die.” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts and I went back to sorting out my flowers.

“I wonder if Mrs Johnson could keep an eye on you for a few days?” said my mother thinking out loud.

“Oh yes, that would be brill, then I could help look after Sarah.” I thought it was a wonderful idea.

“Kylie, you really are a girl, aren’t you?” My mother gave me a funny look.

“Why? What did I do now?”

“I couldn’t see Brian wanting to look after someone’s baby girl, even if his life depended upon it. You get excited at the prospect.”

“Well yes, she’s lovely and so good,” I cooed.

“You wait, young lady, she was just luring you into a false sense of security. All babies have their off days, and that’s when they’re at their most challenging.”

“I’d still like to help look after her.”

“Do the potatoes, while I have a word with your daddy.” I set to work on the spuds, then the carrots and the cabbage she’d left out.

She returned some while later. “Oh thanks, darling.” She kissed me for doing all the veg. “I’ve spoken to Mrs Johnson, and she said she’d look after you next week, but she couldn’t promise any longer than that. What do you think?”

“I think I’d like that, Mummy. Can I help with baby Sarah?”

“You’ll have to help her, full stop; so all the things I’ve been teaching you, using the vacuum cleaner and the washing machine, and so on will be useful. Plus you’ll have to do any homework until we can sort out some form of schooling.”

“Okay,” I grinned. I loved helping with the baby.

We continued preparing the dinner when Spotty Dick, aka Brian, arrived.

“Out the way, faggot,” he said barging past me.

“Ouch, spotty face!”

“Children please behave, act your ages not your shoe sizes.”

“I thought they‘d have had you in a padded cell by now, in a straight jacket, along with all the other loonies,” he made a silly face as he said this.

“Well you couldn’t come an’ see me unless they let you out of the zoo, you hairy ape,” I poked my tongue out for good measure.

“I’ll get you later, faggot,” he said poking me in the chest.

“Ouch, that hurt,” I said far louder than it deserved.

“Brian, leave your sister alone,” called my mother, so it worked.

“I would, if I had one,” he sneered at me.

I poked my tongue at him again.

At dinner, Mummy asked Brian, “Don’t you want to know how your sister got on at the clinic?”

“Not really,” he mumbled.

“What did you say, Brian?” asked Mummy.
“Yeah, okay; how did the fairy get on with the head shrinker?”

“Your sister is not a fairy, and I wish you wouldn’t keep saying it. The doctor thinks she is GID.”

“GID? What’s that, a Gay Idiotic Dork?” he laughed until he saw Daddy looking at him.

“Brian, if anyone here is a dork, it’s you. GID is Gender Identity Disordered. Kylie, really is a girl;” Daddy said this very firmly.

Brian looked at him for a moment, then at me, then at Mummy; and then he burst out laughing.

“What is so funny, young man?” asked Daddy, who was trying to remain calm although I could see the vein in his neck pulsing, like it does when he’s about to blow his stack.

Brian was still giggling until that question made him realise he could have made a mistake. “I thought it was like, funny, Kyle is a boy, so the clever dick doctor got it wrong.”

“And you are better qualified to know, are you Dr Brian?” Mummy asked angrily.

“Well, erm–anyone can see he’s not really a girl, I mean he’s got a dick to start with–“ Brian was digging himself in deeper, but in best girl mode, I was beginning to cry. I wasn’t sure why; I think all the raised voices set me off.

“Brian,” said Daddy with a calmness that could only mean he was one step away from murdering his elder child, “from now on, you will refer to your sister as a girl, if you don’t, I am going to do something very nasty to you. Do you understand?”

“Erm–yes, Dad.”

“If I hear one more reference to faggot, fairy or other derogatory term, I will make you wear a dress to school, and see how you like it? Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Now please go to your room.”

“But, Dad, it’s my gym night.”

“Now, Brian.”

My brother rose from the table and after sending me a withering glance, he slunk upstairs and shut his door noisily.
I sat there, completely dumbfounded.

“Kylie, please close your mouth before something nests in it,” Daddy continued. “I want you to tell me if he abuses you any more, you know, calls you names and so on.”

I nodded. This was getting serious, yet the image of Brian in a gymslip made me want to laugh out loud. This just wasn’t the time or place. Brian was going to be livid at missing his gym session and I’ll bet he blames me, an’ I didn’t do anything! I wondered if I could ask Mrs Johnson to adopt me?

I helped my mother clear up the dishes after the meal, well you don’t do it during it, do you? I didn’t want to stray too far from my parents, Brian was likely ‘to be as mad as a cut snake’. It’s an Aussie expression I heard on the telly some time ago, can’t remember what it was in–Dame Edna? Dunno, it’s not important.

We watched the box for a bit, then when the stress of the day began to take over, I nodded off to sleep and my father apparently carried me up to bed. I was glad it was Mummy who undressed me: somehow, Daddy doing it, feels wrong. I don’t know why, except things have changed since my visit to that clinic. I feel different and I think Mummy and Daddy are treating me differently. I don’t know what I feel about it at the moment, it’s too strange.

I awoke the next morning, it was earlier than usual. I was lying in my bed and had no recollection of getting there, talk about weird! I immediately checked that I still had all my bits–phew, what a relief! Then when I thought about it, it looked as if I was going to be stuck as girl and I wasn’t at all sure about that.

As my eyes filled with tears, and the tears ran down the side of my face into my hair, I didn’t know what I was or what I wanted. This used to be straightforward: I was a boy, albeit a not very successful one, but my world had an order to it. That was all wiped away in one afternoon, less than that, in an hour or so.

How could there have been such a massive change? Was there one? I tried to understand and analyse what was happening. My parents still loved me, if anything even more. Brian was still a jerk–so no change there. I was being called by a girl’s name, well apart from my family, lots of kids called me that anyway. In fact, so far, the only big change was wearing girl’s clothes and altering my appearance.

Okay, so that’s pretty big. I look so different and the clothes feel very different. I’m expected to behave very differently when I wear them, and people treat me differently–except, you know who, the troll!

I’m still the same, I think–or am I? I don’t know any more. I felt a tear run into my hair. I felt scared. Brian thinks it’s so funny, maybe he should try it and see what he thinks about it then. I’ll bet he’d change his tune.

All because, Dr Andrea thinks I’m GI Joe or something, Gender Identity something or other, why can’t I remember that word? Maybe I’m trying to forget it deliberately? Like I’d sent my memory secret orders to forget it. Orders, that’s it, Gender Identity Order, no, it begins with ‘D’ d-order? Nah, dis something, that’s it, Disorder, Gender identity Disorder. I had remembered, now for the hard bit–what to do about it?

I tried to work out what would be better as a boy, there wasn’t much and loads I’d lose, including baby sitting baby Sarah. I might also lose Philip, he seemed much more interested in me as a girl. The attention from Mummy and Daddy seemed so much nicer, and I’d lose that if I went back to boyhood, or I might. Then again, maybe they’d stop once they got used to me as a girl? Brian would remain a pain in the bum, whether I was a boy or a girl. He might not hit me quite so much as a girl, but that was unproven.

Then there were other people, what would they think? So far they’ve been nice, or most have. If they knew, would they still be nice to me, especially if I still had a winkie?

Then there was school–that was a total nightmare, and I couldn’t cope with that, not at any price. My mind did flit through the scenario of going to the same school as Gemma and Karen. I’d been accepted as a normal girl there, but once it got out–they’d be just as nasty as the boys.

I came to a rapid conclusion, I needed to leave school, now.

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Thanks to Gabi for editing and suggestions for improvements - naturally I took none of them: so this mess is all my own doing. >^^< !