Weeping Willow
Part 3
by **Sigh**
Copyright© 2019 plaintivesigh All Rights Reserved. |
|
“Willow” waited for her family to say something. Not a word was uttered, however. Just slack-jawed staring, combined with confused glances at the others at the table. William and Gwen especially looked at each other, but neither could utter a coherent syllable.
The newest female at the table then shrugged, pulled out her chair, sat down and proceeded to eat.
Gwen finally found her voice. “Bill!? You –“
“Willow, Momma. I’m Willow please.”
William cleared his throat and spoke in a low register to emphasize his authority and displeasure. “Bill. What the –“
“Willow! It’s Willow, Poppa. Please respect my decision.”
The male parent’s face showed even more perplexion. “He … called me Poppa.”
“She called you Poppa. I think she wants to be referred to as a she. And by the way, if she gets to call you Poppa, then I get to call you Dad,” Angie reasoned with a look of triumph.
“Angie,” Gwen whispered. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Nope, Mom. But I figured all of ‘her’ recent sweet disposition was leading up to something. I’ve learned to expect anything when it comes to Bill – OOPS! So sorry, I meant Willow.”
“No apology needed, Sis. Thank you for correcting yourself. I never want to be called ‘Bill’ ever again.”
“No problem,” said Mal. “I’ll only call you retarded from now on, OK?”
Mal then tore into his grub with the urgency of any young teen male. Willow ate her meal slowly and gracefully. The rest of the plated food got cooler as the other family members carefully addressed the former ‘Bill’.
“When did you get yourself ready like this? Just this morning you were your usual appearance,” asked Gwen.
“I shaved my legs and plucked my brows in my bathroom earlier in the afternoon; I used the rest of the time to dress. I’m still new to this, so it took me a while to get everything as good as I could.”
William whispered towards his wife. “Still willing to trust him to be left alone?”
Gwen snapped her head around to give him an angry stare. “You are NOT being helpful,” she growled.
“Momma,” Willow spoke. “I do need more practice and guidance with dressing, makeup, and – when it grows longer – hair. Would you help me?”
The mother shook her head emphatically. “No. Bill, you-“
“Momma! Please. It’s Willow now.”
Gwen clenched her teeth, and her eyes became wet. “No! No, it’s not. You are Bill. And this is all just an elaborate stunt, like William had been telling me. I was a fool to get my hopes up that you were sincere in your changing. And if this is real – if it’s not just a stunt – then it’s wrong. It’s morally wrong, and I cannot accept it or endorse it!”
“Momma. The Episcopal Church has officially accepted gays and transgenders as legitimate people. I read it on Wikipedia, after completing my other computer assignments.”
“Not all Episcopal congregations, Bill! The church we attend has broken away from the national leadership on this issue. The bible says that men are not to dress in women’s clothing. Now that is that. And you are going to change out of my clothes – hey, wait. How did you get ahold of my clothes?”
“Two days ago, Momma. You left your bedroom door unlocked while you were in the master bath showering. I got into your closet to get what I needed. It just took me a few days to build up the courage to present in front of you as Willow.”
“Bill. You will go to your room and take my things off – NOW. You may come back and finish your supper when you are in male attire. And never, ever dress in women’s clothes again.”
Willow’s face fell. “Okay, Momma.” She slowly stood up.
“Aw, the retarded sissy’s gonna cry,” laughed Mal.
“NO,” Willow snapped back at her brother. “I won’t. I haven’t wept since I was in kindergarten. Dad – our birth dad – spanked me, and I vowed no one would make me cry again. I’ve forgotten how to do it; don’t think I could if I wanted to. But even without tears, this really hurts, Momma.”
She then walked back to her bedroom. Gwen noticed that her child didn’t walk off in his usual angry stomp.
“Okay, everyone,” Gwen barked to the rest at the table. “I need all of us on board with this. I will not tolerate Bill being a drag queen or transvestite or whatever you call them. It’s wrong, and we’re going to resist this and reject it. We agree, right?”
“Oh yeah. I’m gonna have so much fun with this,” chuckled Malachi.
Angela sighed. “Mom, I’m going to leave this to you and Dad. I’ll be Switzerland, okay? The way I’ve survived this war with Bill these last few years is by staying out of the line of fire; I’d rather continue that way.”
Gwen looked at William. “You agree with me, right?”
“Um …. Not 100%.”
“WHAT??”
“Now, hang on. I mean you and I hold different opinions about transgender people. I think they are real, and have a right to exist and live their lives how they want – despite what our local church leaders think. But in Bill’s case, I don’t believe for one second that this is real. I think he’s angling for a way out of the current restrictions, or maybe he’s trying to find a way to leave the family. So yes, I think he shouldn’t be allowed to dress as a girl. We agree on the end strategy, we just get there in different ways.”
Gwen sighed. “That’s not the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take what I can get. Let me heat up everyone’s plates in the microwave; I’m sure the food’s as cold as ice.”
Thirty minutes later, Gwen knocked on Bill’s bedroom door while holding the half eaten plate of food she’d left at the table.
“Bill. Have you changed into boy clothes?”
“Willow, Momma. I took off all of your stuff; it’s folded on top of my bedside table.”
“Good, son! I’m coming in with your supper, ‘kay?”
“WAIT! I’m not decent! Um … okay, you can come in now.”
His mother walked in to find Willow sitting on the bed, her blanket wrapping her and covering her from ankles to neck.
Gwen’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have ANYTHING on?”
“Momma; I have to return your clothes – they’re not mine. I have some more in my closet and drawers that you can take back too. I can’t force you to let me use them. And you can’t force me to wear boy stuff. I refuse to live a lie one second longer. So until I can wear what’s right for me, I’ll go naked. I am hungry still; can I finish my plate?”
The adult woman stood there shaking her head silently. She picked up the stack of clothes and sat the plate down on the spot they had been. “Bill, get me the rest of my clothes out of your closet and drawers and I’ll pick them up in the morning. I’ll talk further with you then.” She turned to leave the room.
“Momma?”
She stopped and turned her head back to her child. “Call me ‘Mom’ like you used to, not ‘Momma’. Now what did you need?”
“Just reminding you. It’s Willow, please. Not Bill.”
The next morning Gwen knocked on Willow’s door once more. She decided to crack it open just slightly and speak through the opening.
“Honey? I need you to get up. I got us in to see your counselor this morning. The appointment is for 10 AM so you need to get dressed.”
Great; even sooner than I hoped! Thought Willow. “Good morning, Momma. Can I wear a blouse and skirt?”
“NO. Things have not changed since we talked last night!”
Gwen drove both of them to the appointment; she smiled at her son. “See? Jeans and a T-shirt looks fine on you.”
Willow sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed. “These are okay for a girl to wear on a casual indoor day, or to work around the house in. But it’s way too sloppy to wear out in public.”
“Okay, honey.” Honey was a useful term; it was unisex, and wouldn’t draw a “Willow, please,” from her son. “Honey, when we see the counselor, I need you to be open with your feelings. I know you hate him –“
“No I don’t, Momma. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. I’m hoping he’ll understand me in a way that you can’t right now.”
“I want to warn you: I’m sitting in on this session. Your stepdad will also; he cancelled a few appointments to be part of this. What happens this morning may have huge effects on how we treat you from here on out.”
I’m counting on it, Bill thought silently, hiding under Willow’s persona.
Andrew Kaplan, LCC, just finished his first patients of the day, another rebellious teen vs. overstrict parent scenario. The rift between the father and son seemed huge, but it was their first session so he was nowhere near giving up hope. However this next case, an urgent work-in, was one he had called nearly intractable when he last saw them three months ago. William and Gwen Eiken, and Gwen’s son Bill. The mother was open to discussion, but her husband’s mind was set in stone. And the son – he just wouldn’t open up, not a word. After 8 weekly sessions of getting nowhere, Andrew had recommended a different therapist or none at all.
So I wonder what has changed, he thought.
Fifteen minutes later his mind was blown. Bill declaring as a transgender was the last thing on earth he would have suspected. Gwen and William had given their observations and opinions on Bill’s new revelations. For the first time that the counselor had ever seen, Bill’s parents seemed to disagree somewhat about what was going on. Their child sat patiently in a separate chair, staying silent. Until both parents finished – then he said “Mr. Kaplan, may I give you my side of the story?”
“Why of course, Bill. Would you prefer I call you Willow?”
Willow burst into a smile. “YES, please!”
“I’m sure I will have some questions of you, but why don’t you say whatever you want to say right now?”
Willow took a deep breath. “I know it’s hard for Momma and Poppa to understand how I could show no feminine traits at all for fifteen years, then come out as Willow. All I can say is that I’ve been really restless and unhappy for all my life and couldn’t figure out why. You even told me, Poppa. You said there was a deep dissatisfaction in me – and I realized you were right. The source of it is that I was born in the wrong body.”
“Wait,” said William, massaging his forehead furiously. “How did you come upon that theory?”
“I started thinking, meditating, after you told me that. I realized when I looked at girls, it was with envy, not lust. And when I thought about living my life as a woman, I felt an overwhelming peace come over me – I didn’t want to do any more fighting or rebelling. I don’t want the macho; I don’t want to be a “playa” in the drug game. I want to dress with grace and beauty; I want to be a soft body who gets held by a hard body every night; I even dream about having a vagina and being filled by a _”
“No more detail is needed Willow,” coughed Mr. Kaplan rather loudly. “It sounds like you only came to this conclusion in the last few weeks. How can you be so sure that this really is the right path for you?”
“I – I don’t know. How CAN I know? If I’m not allowed to live as a woman, I’ll never find out if this is the actual truth for me or not. And Momma and Poppa won’t let me.”
Andrew looked at the parents. “How would you feel about a trial period of letting Willow dress as she feels?”
“You cannot be serious,” said William with a violent shake of the head. “Can’t you see that he’s playing you? Bill is a master manipulator, and you’re taking it hook, line and sinker.”
“That’s a possibility. One of my main jobs is to sniff out truth-twisters, and I can’t tell yet if your son is or isn’t in this case. But even if he is, consider this: if you give in to this demand and only this demand, then you’re likely to see if Bill/Willow is really serious about this or not. Give it anywhere from one to six months.” Andrew now turned to Willow. “Would that satisfy you for now?”
Six months of dressing in dresses and still being under my parent’s thumb? NO WAY. “No, Mr. Kaplan. It’s, um … too little of a change, because … Think! Because what? … ah! … because puberty has started. If I don’t block it I’ll get a deeper voice, chest and beard hairs … my life will be ruined!”
“That’s a valid concern. Going on testosterone blockers is not too drastic if it’s only for a few months. I could refer you to an endocrinologist to do so.”
“You,” said William, rising, “are a gullible quack. We are not doing this.”
That’s it. Ignore the professional recommendation; that will be good ammo for me to use in court, Bill thought with glee. “Mr. Kaplan – can I speak to you without my parents around? Just for a minute,” Willow asked.
“Sure, Willow. Mr. and Mrs. Eiken, would you mind stepping out to the waiting room for this?
“Yes, I would mind. I need to hear what Bill has to say,” William asserted.
Counselor Andrew looked back at William with authority of his own. “If Willow tells me anything that you absolutely must know, I’ll relay it to you. But she deserves to open up in a safe, comfortable environment. Which is not what we have right now.”
Stung by the rebuke, William left the room – grumbling. Gwen followed.
Andrew exhaled as the door shut. “Now, Willow. What do you need to say?”
“Mr. Kaplan – thanks for hearing me out. I know Momma and Poppa are not going to let me live as a woman; look how she forced me to dress to meet you today! What needs to happen is legal action. I’ve been consulting with Lawzip, an online legal source, and have filled out the initial paperwork to be declared an emancipated minor. What I need is your strong recommendation supporting that, because it’s the only way I can live my true life – as a female. Could you do that for me today, if possible?”
Andrew sat and peered at Willow, scratching his chin. He remained silent for an eternal minute, looking into the child’s eyes then staring at the ceiling. Back and forth went his gaze as he contemplated.
He suddenly sat up straight. “No, Willow. If you need to take that drastic step, you should have someone besides a ‘general practitioner’ counselor. We need to get you to a specialist. You should pull him aside, as you did with me, and see if he’ll give you that recommendation; it’ll carry more weight coming from him. Let’s get your parents back in here.”
“Please don’t tell them what I just told you! They’ll ground me ‘til summer!”
“Don’t worry, Willow. I’ll be discreet,” Andrew smiled. He called her parents to re-enter the room.
Andrew addressed William and Gwen. “As I told Willow, I’m a general family counselor. If you don’t agree with my assessment, why not get a second opinion from a gender specialist? If he agrees with you two, then the matter’s settled. Try Dr. Philip Estrada; he’s an MD who also does his own gender counseling. There’s really no one else like him. I’ll make a call and see if he can squeeze you in this week.”
Later that week.
The trio were in Dr. Estrada’s office. The main body of the consultation was similar to the appointment with Andrew Kaplan a few days prior. Willow waited until the hour was almost up to ask for a private moment with the doctor; she explained her intentions as she had with Mr. Kaplan
“So that’s what I need – your recommendation that I be allowed to be emancipated as a minor. That’s the only way I’ll be able to be complete. Please,” she entreated.
Dr. Estrada tapped his pen on the desk in the therapy room. “That breaks up your family. I get the sense they really care about your well-being; they just oppose you in this one issue. Don’t worry, Willow. I’m going to take care of this for you. Mary, call the Eikens back into this room,” he spoke into his office phone.
“Doc, don’t tell them what I told you – about the legal stuff!” said an alarmed Willow.
“Trust me, young one.” The doc winked at Willow to reassure her.
The doctor’s tone became firm when William and Gwen were once again present. “I know you are determined to not allow Willow to dress or live as a female, despite my strong recommendation to the contrary. Just know this: she’s likely to suffer emotionally and psychologically as a result. I cannot overemphasize how important it is that she be allowed to be who she sees herself as. If you don’t allow it, there may be consequences.”
William was taken aback. “Consequences?”
“CPS – Child Protective Services – might need to intervene. They could place Willow in the correct environment; it might be a foster home, but she would be allowed to dress. And I would testify as to her absolute need to live as a woman; that would authorize them to take whatever action they needed to. Or, you could just allow Willow to live as a female, and none of that will be needed.”
No, no, no, no, Willow thought. Let me do this plan my way – don’t force their hand now!
“Doctor – give me and my wife a minute, please,” said William as he arose and pulled Gwen out into the hall. He walked with her to the far end, where they could talk.
“This was a huge mistake, seeing this ‘gender specialist’ doc!” he muttered. “It’s like he had his mind made up as soon as Bill spoke. Then he comes down hard on us! Our opinion was tossed out like trash.”
Gwen agreed. “He’s insinuating that any bad outcome would be our fault; suggesting that he could have CPS take us to court. What if they decided to call it child abuse!?”
“I don’t know. Would they really go that far?”
Gwen was panicked. “Honey! What are we going to do? That doctor/counselor just told us to allow Bill to be ‘Willow’ for up to half a year. He told Bill to file a court case against us if we didn’t, and said he’d testify on Bill’s behalf! We’d be seen as bigoted transphobic child abusers. Maybe … maybe we should just end all the grounding on Bill and let him go back to school; let him see his friends and stay out late as much as he wants.”
“No, baby. We’re still responsible and accountable for him until age 17. What if he sells drugs to some kid who gets behind the wheel while high? If that kid kills someone, they’ll come after us. Because we’re ultimately liable for anything he does. Better for him to dress as a female than for that to happen.”
“William!”
“I know, I know. I can’t believe I’m saying it either.”
“It’s immoral! It’s a sin!”
“So is dealing drugs. God help me, I don’t see any other path to take. If Bill is faking this – and I still believe he is – then he won’t be too thrilled about us letting him stay and ‘allowing’ him to dress as a girl; I’ll bet he won’t last a week. But who knows? He’s so stubborn, he might go longer.”
“So … so that’s it, then. That’s what we’re doing. Oh God.” Gwen’s face drained of color.
“You want to tell him now or later?”
“Now. I’ll do it. No use in prolonging this.” Gwen marched back to the room, William in tow.
“Um, Willow,” Gwen said. “We’re going to allow you to dress as a girl for up to 6 months. I’ll give you a stipend and take you shopping for clothes, makeup and accessories. We want to do right by you, and by Dr. Estrada. We’re not allowing you to get on any testosterone blockers; just dressing.” She then turned away, dabbing her eyes with tissues as she did.
Dr. Estrada smiled. “What do you think about that, Willow?”
The child in question was numb, shocked. “You … you’re actually going to let me live as a girl? This is actually happening?”
William raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Aren’t you happy?”
She shook herself out of her daze. Keep acting! Don’t blow it! “Oh Momma, Poppa – thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you!” She hugged her parents with a huge smile on her face and - if one looked closely enough – a bit of panic in her eyes.
Bernard. U there?
Yeah. How did visit 2 tranny counselor go?
BAD. He was gr8 at 1st, telling ‘rents they had 2 let me dress as girl. Should have left it there; they would have said no, and I could quickly sue for emancipation. But then he started TALKING ABOUT me suing, and it scared Mom, so now they r gonna let me dress as girl 4 trial period. I still have 2 stay @ home!
Bummer. How long is trial period
6 MONTHS!!!
Yikes
Ain’t waitin that long. Going w/ addendum to plan
Uh-oh. What’s that?
Bill got up early enough to catch a quick breakfast with the rest of his family. They were hustling to make it to work and school. He was in a T-shirt and gym shorts, amusedly watching the morning chaos.
“Willow!” barked his mother. The loudness made Bill jump. “Wake up, little missy! That’s the 3rd time I called you just now; did you forget your name?”
Bill belatedly switched his mind into Willow mode. “I’m sorry, Momma. I need to drink some coffee I guess; must still be sleepy.”
“Well, you’ll need to be alert; it’s a big day ahead of us. I’m taking you shopping for what you’ll need to dress and present fully as a female.”
“Yay!” Willow feigned with all of the fake enthusiasm she could muster.
“I pulled some of my clothes out that should fit you. They’re stacked in a little pile on the table in the hallway. Can you get dressed and be ready to go in say, half an hour? I’ll help you with some basic makeup before we leave. Realize since we’re just getting started, you probably won’t ‘pass’ as a woman very well today.”
Willow did indeed need to focus – on keeping up her female persona as she and Gwen hit store after store. She set her mind on acting thrilled with this new reality, one where she was to occupy the outward appearance of a woman as realistically as possible.
The mother/daughter combo hit the mall first. “Don’t get your hopes up about high fashion just yet,” Gwen warned. “We’re just getting started, and this will be an unexpected hit to this month’s budget. So JC Penney will have to do.”
Willow got all of her basics – panties, Wonderbras, hose, slips, Spanx – first. Then to the shoe department for some flats, multiple types of sandals, and one pair of 3 inch heels “for training in high heel walking” per Gwen. Following this were enough clothes that Willow wondered if she’d ever leave the dressing area. She ended up with four blouses, two sweaters, three skirts (one flowy midi, one pleated, one skater skirt “to show off your legs”), two pair each of slacks and jeans (women’s) and one semiformal dress that would be appropriate for church, if it came to that.
The next stop was Elle’s salon, in the same mall wing. Willow got her first facial makeover there, and from that her makeup needs were determined. Her hair wasn’t long enough to do much with; it was still in a short boy’s cut, not a buzz but too close to style. “I’ll do your nails at home; let’s get your ears pierced,” said Gwen.
The day was topped off – literally – with the purchase of a wig. “You’ll have times when you need to blend in; it’ll take nearly half a year to grow your own to a passable length, I’m guessing,” advised Willow’s mom. The piece was a brunette long bob that fell just short of the shoulders.
“Shopping is exhausting,” puffed Willow while laid out on the back seat of the car.
“The day’s not done yet. We need to open those packages of panties, hose and bras. I ‘guesstimated’ the size for you, but you need to try them on. I’m turning onto Las Hongas steet now – almost home.”
Gwen yelled through Willow’s bathroom door. “Willow. Do the panties fit?”
“Just a minute, Momma.”
“It’s been five minutes, honey.”
“I’ve – I’ve got a situation, here. Give me just two more minutes!”
Finally Willow let Gwen in. The Mom sniffed twice and shook her head at her new daughter.
“Did you deal with the ‘situation’ Willow?”
“Yes, Momma.”
“I’ll bet your panties cover your crotch a lot better since you took care of your erection.”
Willow’s face flushed deep red. “What! I didn’t – I mean, how did you –“ her voice dropped to a whisper. “God, just let me die now.”
“The musky smell in here made it pretty obvious. If you had used some deodorizer and washed your hands –“
“Momma that’s enough! I – I’ve never felt tight smooth fabric down there before, OK? I didn’t expect to react to it! How am I ever going to pass with a constant groin bulge?
“Hmmm … we should have gotten you a bubble skirt.”
“That doesn’t sound like a solution! I may have to research on the computer, to see how other trans girls deal with this. Do I have your permission to do so?”
“Momma, please come here – I’ve found what I need. Can you order some for me with next day delivery?”
“Okay, Willow; let me see what you pulled up on the screen. Hmmm. A “gaffe”, eh? That keeps you … “pulled back”? Ooo-kayyyy … let’s order you a few. I wonder why they have women modeling them when they’re for men who are trying to –“
“Momma. Those models are men. They just have good makeup and prostheses, or maybe some are on hormones.”
**URK!** - “Good God. Let’s get this ordered and get off of this page. I’m looking at scantily clad men? This is practically a porno site!”
“Momma, you wouldn’t say that about a regular women’s lingerie catalog.”
“Honey – I’ve submitted the order. And I’m closing the page. And those things better last you, because I don’t ever want to go to that site – or one like it – again.”
“Get ready, Momma; there’s a lot more things like this you may have to get used to.” Although I hope you freak out, try to force me to live as a guy, and then maybe I can sue for emancipation, Willow silently reasoned.
Willow dressed exclusively as a female for the next 7 days. She developed a daily routine to keep the ruse going – and to keep her sane.
First, Bill got up at 5:30 AM to meditate, or (as he called it) focus.
I am Bill Ramos. Street handle Willy the Dude. I am the baddest 15 year old SOB on the planet; I am running the biggest one man sting operation in M****F**** recorded history. The acting I pull off will win an Oscar next February. Today I will become a sweet little teenage girl named Willow. I will eat gently, walk and speak softly, say please and thank you and Momma and Poppa and OMG that’s so cute!! And I will drive my folks crazy and win my freedom, fully and legally. Then after age 17 I will come back and show my stupid family how I duped them all just before I say good f**** riddance for the very last time.
Now: I am Willow. Calm. Gentle. Quiet. Caring (that one’s tough). Obedient (tougher!). And in love with frilly clothes and make-up.
Next she showered, shaved (legs and pits, as well as a few that would pop up on her chin), and lotioned. She applied deodorant and got dressed in her lingerie. Outfits were easier than expected; she had discovered a talent for pairing clothes. Then Gwen would enter and help apply makeup. Finally, she’d be ready for the day at home.
Thus Willow’s plan to gain freedom from her parents and rules was in full swing. The shock over her first appearance at dinner had been perfect. The conflict between Gwen, William and the gender specialist was promising at first. But now the plan seemed to be stuck; her folks were allowing her to wear skirts and dresses. Their consent was grudging at first, but now it seemed that the whole family was more accepting of Willow than they’d ever been with Bill – well, at least in Bill’s last 2-3 years. So as she had told Bernard, it was time to throw an addendum into the plan.
“Momma, I need something different for my boobies. The socks aren’t cutting it.”
“Really? I’ve heard about bags of bird seed …”
“No thanks. I’d be afraid to walk through the park and the tons of pigeons there; can you imagine the feeding frenzy around my bosom? I need something more realistic.”
Gwen sighed. “I told you, our budget is stretched thin. Good breast prostheses are pretty expensive.”
“That’s not what I mean. I need my own breasts, Momma. I need to get on woman hormones. I need the man blockers, too. So I will stop developing ugly man hairs and shapes, and make female curves.”
“Wha … Willow. I told you last time you brought this up – these are major steps you’re asking for. The effects are permanent, I think!”
No they aren’t, not for at least a few months. But you don’t need to know that yet, thought Willow.
Gwen shook her head. “NO. No, Willow. You need more time to experience living as a girl before you decide to actually change into one!”
“Momma! I AM a girl already in my mind, in my soul! I – I need this so badly! I can’t STAND being a boy. I want it all – the hormones, the sex change surgery, the face and throat surgeries. I want boob and butt implants too. I can’t afford to get any more manly than I already have!”
“Honey – look in the mirror. You’re more girl than boy in your appearance; isn’t that enough for now? Your muscles are getting thinner because you’re not lifting weights, and you have no facial hair!”
“That’s because I shaved my chin this morning. And I’m starting to get chest hairs! We’ve got to do something, NOW! My voice is just starting to crack and change; maybe blockers and hormones could stop that. If not, in a few months I’ll sound like Darth Vader! Pleeeease, Momma!”
I wish I knew how to cry; a few tears would really frost the cake. ‘Momma’ looks like she’s about to explode, Willow mused.
The “new girl” may not have been able to cry, but her mother now was doing enough weeping for both of them. Gwen’s face was flushed, and she grimaced through her sobs. Her hands covered her ears tightly. “NO! I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I WON’T ALLOW YOU TO CHEMICALLY MUTILATE YOURSELF! GO – GO TO YOUR ROOM, BILL!”
“Willow, Momma. It's Willow.” The teenager turned and walked to her room. With her back to her mother now, she allowed a smug grin to erupt on her face.
To be continued tomorrow.
If you've gotten this far, please leave a comment! Don't make me reach through the screen and tweak your nose!
Thanks for reading!
Comments
Thank you,
The "tangled web we weave " rears it's head again ! Willow may have just outsmarted herself :) Good story , but why ,in this day
and age ,do the "God botherers " still have this fixation with The Old Testament and Leviticus ? It is 2019 ,I think !
One of the characters actually addresses this
later in the story; regarding the OT and relevance to today.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
“Willow, Momma. It's Willow.”
crap, this kid ... but the counselors ? are they stupid or what?
Actually, Dot, I'm of the opinion
that for every competent counselor/doctor out there, there's one who is "not up to snuff." With today's acceptance of trans people and trans medicine at an all time high, I'm waiting to see the eventual reports of people who got funneled into the "trans machine" and popped out the other end, totally post-op, and realized they weren't trans at all. I think some are so eager to treat that they miss fakers and other inappropriate candidates, putting them on the transiton conveyer belt. Okay. Enough ranting.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
And then:
Some people will try to use those cases to debunk Trans, as being something that does not actual exist.
yep!
In the same way that false hate crimes actually harm people who are victims of true hate crimes. I know there are some detransitioned former transwomen that now preach that there's no such thing as transgender, that all cases are due to mental illness. They should never have transitioned in the first place. That's why docs who don't do things by the book with excellence only end up hurting all of us.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
There is nothing I like better
Than a 'hoist by his own petard ' story. Watching Bill build the cage and then walk into it is just fun to watch. Who needs forced femme when the protagonist does it to himself? Technically you could say his parents forced him into it by making him come up with this plan and now unknowingly forcing him because he's convinced them he wants it.
Commentator
Visit my Caption Blog: Dawn's Girly Site
Visit my Amazon Page: D R Jehs
I wanted to see if I could write
a hoist/petard story, with maybe some new elements and some knocking over of tropes, if possible. I've experimented with different writing styles here at BC - drama, action, horror, comedy - with different levels of success; but it stretches me as a writer. StacyinLove no longer publishes her stuff; I wanted to write something like her "Don't Blink" story.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Are we not...
... who we force ourselves to become?
'Bill' is slowly but surely digging his own grave. A grave with a headstone, with the name Willow.
Determination can sometimes be an awfully dangerous thing...
but it is the rare moments of beauty and peace
in between the chaos,
That makes it worth living."
- Tertia Hill
The most dangerous cages
are those we build around ourselves.
Except cages with acid bars and poisoned spikes. Pretty sure those are more dangerous..
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Bill is certainly going to "like" the effect of the hormones!
*giggles* Talk about digging his own grave.
Only I think that if he relly were that big bad a macho, he would never ever have come up with such a silly plan. On top of that, if at 15 he had not had his voice breaking he is certainly a late developer lacking testosterone. I wonder what the endocrinologist's tests will come up with, if it comes to that, of wich I am sure if he gets so silly to start court procedures.Then he might find himself in a foster family with hormone implants ...
Well, if she does ... No pity here.
Monique.
Monique S
I've seen "macho men" take pride
in how authentically they can act/imitate a female; I remember an interview with the actors who played in "To Wong Foo", (Swayze, Snipes, Leguizamo) and that was their stance, I think. In Bill's morning self motivating meditations, that's the attitude he's trying to take. Bill's also absolutely sure his folks won't let him start on hormones..;;;;;
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Being an actor it is a different challenge.
Being a rather immature 15 year old boy however ... ?
Does he even have a clue what tricks his subconscious might be playing on him? His drug abuse already points to some "land mines" in there, that he desperately tries to avoid.
Monique S
Weeping willow
I just got into this story today so I'm doing 3 chapters of comments. Bill has quite a plan going it looks like the counselors will give him enough rope to hang himself. Willow is doing such a job of selling everybody she has best watch out who buys her story or she will get helped into a new future. Of course this might explain why Bill wanted to be so hardcore and macho.
Time is the longest distance to your destination.
Couldn't
have said it better myself!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
I still don't like this kid
and I hope she gets everything she is asking for.
I'm interested to see
if your opinion will change by the start of next week (this story has 13 parts) :)
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
How long???
How long can Bill masquerade. Until Willow is perminate
And emancipation will get him what?
Bill wants emancipation from his parents but doesn't realize the implications. If he gains his emancipation from his parents, they are no longer legally bound to take care of him. As such, he won't have any place to stay so CPS will step in and place him in foster care or an orphanage. And because he's trying to use being TG to get things his way, he will continue being treated as a girl and may even be given hormones so his body matches what he's lead everyone to believe his mind says.
He also thinks that because he won't be under his parents he won't have any rules to follow. Maybe he should start reading law books about criminal laws. Then he might understand he isn't as free as he thinks. And he'll know the sentence he'll receive when the undercover cop busts him.
What was that latest doctors name again? He sees Bill for the first time and right on cue, he falls for Bill's story, as William said, hook, line, and sinker. That doctor should stick to general practice or another specialty. Hope his decision to believe Bill doesn't come back to bite him in the butt.
Oh Bill, your plans didn't work quite so well did they? And asking for hormones will get you exactly what you want, hormones. Gwen might not want it but William will talk her into it because of the fear of the CPS and law enforcement getting involved. If this happens then another of Bill's plans to emancipate himself will go out the window. And his road to womanhood will have begun. All thanks to a plan a teenage boys made himself. Yeah, as if any plan a fifteen-year-old boy came up with ever worked out as planned.
Bill should have gone Bernie's rout, and straightened up. Because he's on a road of his own devising without knowing all the pitfalls. Wonder if his health insurance is paid up so he'll have coverage when someone takes exception hows he's dressed and makes it where Bill needs hospitalization.
Others have feelings too.