In My Sister's
Footsteps

This is a story about true identity and the healing of the transgender mind

Blazing a new trail is difficult for a young burn victim, but he manages well enough with support from his mother, some unusual help from his sister, and a little luck.

Thanks to Puddin' for a little editing of this chapter.

Chapter 37: Heartbreak
Chapter 38: Lifestyle Choice
Chapter 39: My First Boyfriend
Chapter 40: Normal Life
Chapter 41: Two Years Later
Chapter 42: Meltdown

In My Sister's Footsteps
by Terry Volkirch

Part 7 of 8

Chapter 37: Heartbreak

I couldn't see very well walking home from the park. I only remembered seeing an occasional familiar landmark, blurred by tears. I saw just enough to know that I headed in the right direction.

Michelle made an appearance somewhere along the way, and she tried to help.

"Beth?" she said quietly. "At least now you know. Right?"

"Not helping," I muttered.

"Come on, Beth. There'll be other girls. You'll see."

"Still not helping," I growled. In fact, she started to get on my nerves. I knew she meant well, but there was nothing she could say that would help. I needed a hug. I needed physical contact to show that someone still cared about me. I didn't need words.

Michelle didn't take the hint, and she went too far. She pushed too hard.

"I tried to tell you she didn't like girls," she said. "I knew she didn't. Why didn't you listen to me?"

"You're really not helping!" I screamed out loud, and with a lot of sudden anger.

That surprised me. I wasn't just sad, I felt angry about Tracy's reaction. There were zillions of better ways she could've handled the situation. She could've at least tried to let me down more easily. Instead, she verbally slapped my face, and it seriously pissed me off. The sadness and self-pity would be welcomed back later, after the anger wore off.

Michelle wisely cringed back into a far corner of my mind, giving me a chance to cool off. Unfortunately, I didn't have a convenient means to so. A verbal punching bag would've come in very handy at that moment, but as it was, I had to settle for some brisk exercise. The walk wouldn't work as well but I'd planned on supplementing it with a few choice swear words. I had to improvise.

After I collected myself and got my bearings, I realized that I stood in front of a house with nothing but my raw anger and a frightened looking elderly man holding a large watering can. I could tell by the dripping water that he'd been watering some hanging baskets on his front porch. He forgot about his flowers though, and instead, stared at me with his mouth hanging open.

"Sorry!" I snapped at him, not sounding at all apologetic, before quickly turning and stomping off towards home.

***

With my anger left several blocks behind, I tried to sneak to my bedroom when I got home, but my mom intercepted me before I'd quietly shut the front door. Mothers always seemed to sense when something was wrong. Hurt feelings attracted them like a magnet.

"Beth? Honey? What happened?"

I couldn't speak. Instead, I stumbled forward. I sobbed and clung to her, smearing her blouse with mascara. I thought about pulling back to minimize the damage but she held me tight. She ignored the mess and focused on the more immediate concern. Crying my eyes out was more important. I'd cry myself out and then I could figure out how to tell her what happened.

As far as I could tell, she still didn't know about my sexual preference, and I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her -- ever. I imagined she'd be extremely disappointed in me somehow, and that would be the worst kind of punishment, even worse than getting spanked or grounded. I couldn't live with myself if I disappointed her. I couldn't live with the shame.

I was sure she'd be upset about the prospect of not having grandchildren. I didn't think that there might be ways other than having a husband. I could only think of myself with another girl. We'd be childless but we'd have each other, and we'd be happy.

By the time I grew to adulthood, my mother would most likely know I was a lesbian, but I didn't think much about that. I lived in the present. My aching heart wouldn't let me dwell on anything other than Tracy's absence and the shame I felt about being a lesbian.

***

In the early evening of the solstice, the sun still hung far above the horizon, and by then, my mother had gotten a half truth out of me. I'd told her that Tracy and I had a very ugly fight, and that I wasn't sure if I'd ever see my former best friend ever again.

My mom didn't have much to say about that. She just nodded sadly and led me out to the deck garden. We picked a little lettuce and some herbs and then shared some tears over a quick dinner. We didn't say much. I still much preferred physical contact to words at that point, and my mother instinctively knew it.

We finished picking at our salads and sat on the couch, leaning against each other and basking in the silence. She slung an arm around my shoulders and we snuggled together. It was the only thing that offered me any comfort.

The two of us sat together until just before sun set. I could tell the sun was setting because of the warm orange glow that lit up the room in place of any artificial lighting. I would've liked to sit there with her forever, but my buzzing cell phone intruded and demanded my attention. It was James calling, just like he said he would.

I got up to take the call in the privacy of my bedroom. My mother nodded her acceptance and let me pour my heart out to my only remaining friend.

"Okay. I can tell by your voice that it didn't go well," he told me. "I'm so sorry, Beth."

"Thanks," I said with a sniffle. "It was a disaster."

"What happened?"

I told him about the conversation leading up to my confession. He added a noise here and there to show he was listening, and he agreed it sounded promising. That's what made the last part so horribly heartbreaking. Then, when I told him how she reacted to my feelings for her, he changed gears and got a little angry.

"But she sounded cool with it ... with us!" he shouted.

"I know! She was cool ... before. I don't know what happened."

We talked awhile but we didn't figure anything out. We just ultimately decided that everybody was different. No surprise there, but he did surprise me with an interesting question.

"What will you do if she comes back and apologizes?"

"I hadn't thought about it. Do you think she might?"

"She handled the idea of homosexuality well enough when it was someone else. Maybe she just needs to get used to the idea that another girl could find her attractive."

"Yeah," I sighed. "That'd be nice. I'd hope she'd see it as being flattering."

"Exactly."

We talked for nearly an hour that night, though we didn't talk long enough as far as I was concerned, and it frustrated me that I could only talk to him and not have a hug along with it. I wanted both. I wanted to be held and talk out my feelings, but I couldn't do both with either James or my mother. I could only talk with James or find some measure of comfort in my mother's arms.

After he hung up, I got ready for bed and thought some more about how I'd handle Tracy if she decided she wanted to stay friends with me. If she apologized, I was sure I could forgive her, but things would be awkward for both of us afterwards. I'd have to always be careful about what I said, and I didn't think we'd be doing any hugging ever again. I hoped I could handle just being friends with her.

Chapter 38: Lifestyle Choice

June slipped by along with most of July, and my situation hadn't changed. Tracy avoided me and James rarely had the opportunity to call me. His remote sports camp kept him very busy. He tried to explain that the camp kept everyone isolated so they could better focus on sports, but it still upset me. I felt abandoned, and I fell further and further into a deep depression.

My mother helplessly watched as I lost my zest for life. She tried everything, even a surprise visit to see Grams after a little shopping. It should've been a great day, but it didn't work. That didn't stop her from trying though. She continued to chip away at me as we drove back from my grandmother's house.

"Please, Beth," my mom pleaded. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I replied, staring out the passenger window. I'd stubbornly refused to say anything. I was still sure it would just make things worse if I told her about Tracy rejecting me.

We didn't go straight home. Instead, we stopped at the store for some flowers so I knew what that meant. I actually looked forward to it too. Even in my sorry state, I wouldn't miss my weekly trip to my brother's grave.

***

We parked and slowly zigzagged along the concrete paths. My mom didn't say anything though, and she didn't stay long. She put her hand on my shoulder and gently pressed down to show I could stay. Then she walked back to sit in the car. I figured she wanted to leave me alone with Mike, hoping he could "talk" some sense into me. I usually did feel better after our little weekly chat.

"Hello Mike. I still miss you." I sniffled a little and paused.

I listened to sprinklers while I waited for a little inspiration, but they only reminded me of the tears that threatened to dampen my cheeks.

"I wish you were here. I wish you could really talk to me. I really need someone to talk to."

Only the sprinklers chattered, and I had to force myself to remember that Mike would never be coming home again. I had to change the subject.

"So what's it like to be dead? I hope it's peaceful at least."

I stood a moment more, letting my morose thoughts guide me forward. He couldn't come to me, but there were always alternatives.

"I wonder if you're lonely though. I wonder if you wouldn't mind some company. Would you like that?"

If he could only say one word in death, and that word was "yes", I was very sure that I'd have done as he wanted at that moment. I'd have taken my own life and ended the pain and loneliness that suffocated me. I'd have finished the job that Tracy's rejection had started, and all my problems would be gone.

I'd never contemplated suicide before. I'd been through a lot, but never had I dipped so low, and it scared me. Luckily, that fear snapped me out of my mood. I looked around and staggered back to the car, crying the whole way.

"Beth? Honey?" My mom tried.

"Please, Mom. Call Doctor Franklin. I'm overdue for a little therapy."

***

"So there's another memory conflict that you hadn't told me about?" Doctor Franklin asked.

"Yes, and it's a whopper. I didn't think it'd matter but I was wrong. Please. You've got to help me."

That afternoon, in my psychologist's office, I spilled everything about Tracy, my sexual preference and my discomfort in the showers. I hoped that if my conflict was resolved, it might also fix my problem with Tracy. My problem stemmed from my attraction to girls, so I wanted to be free of it. I wanted to date boys and be normal.

"Oh, Beth. It's not that simple. It isn't possible to change a person's sexual preference."

"But I used to have a crush on boys. I know I did. My mom told me I used to like Bobby Hanson in 7th grade. Maybe I'm supposed to like boys and this conflict just has me confused."

"Possibly ...." The doctor paused a moment in thought, and that gave someone else a chance to speak.

"Beth?" A voice whispered.

It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Michelle. That was unheard of. She hated Doctor Franklin.

"What?" I asked my inner tomboy and sister with slight annoyance. I hadn't heard from her since I screamed at her after Tracy rejected me. I really needed someone to talk to and she hadn't been there for me.

"Please, Beth. Don't do this. Leave. Now."

"I need help!" I hissed. "And I'm going to get it."

"I beg you, Beth. Don't let her hypnotize you. Please."

"What else do you suggest? I can't keep living like this. I won't!"

I heard Michelle scuttle back into the shadows. She knew she couldn't stop me, so she retreated and waited to see how she fared after the session. I hoped she'd still be around but I wouldn't count on it. I didn't care though. I needed my last mental leak plugged and, with Doctor Franklin's help, I'd succeed.

As predicted, my psychologist wanted to hypnotize me, and I agreed. She started her little procedure then, and I thought I heard Michelle's voice.

"Good-bye ... Sister," she said, just before I entered my trance.

***

I didn't remember much of the hypnotherapy session. All I remember is feeling a little better afterwards, and something seemed different about me, but I couldn't tell what it was. I soon found out though.

My next trip to the mall with my mother gave me some clues. I noticed a few girls from school that I thought were attractive, but I also felt something new. I felt a cold shiver in addition to some attraction. It disturbed me quite a bit.

Boys were my next clue. I saw a short, slender boy who reminded me of Bobby Hanson and I suddenly felt all warm and tingly. Was I attracted to boys? Doctor Franklin mentioned the possibility of being bisexual. Maybe I just needed time to give boys a chance, and I needed to find the right boy. Cool!

I went back for several more therapy sessions that summer, and by the time high school rolled around, I was ready to do some serious boyfriend hunting. I also started daydreaming about getting a husband and having children. I planned on naming my first son, Mike, and my first daughter, Michelle. I thought that would be a fitting way to remember my brother and imaginary sister.

About two weeks before school started, I had my very last session and Doctor Franklin warmed my heart with a sweet, motherly chat. She warned me to be careful of boys. She told me to be certain to get to know them very well before dating them. They'd be on their best behavior to try to impress me and it wouldn't be good to fall for one that seems good at first but really wasn't.

I thanked her and said good-bye for what I hoped would be the last time. I finally felt like everything would be okay. I'd finally have a normal, happy life.

Chapter 39: My First Boyfriend

My first year of high school started and I couldn't have been more excited. High school was so much better than Johnson Middle School. Any school was better.

The campus layout was beautiful. The buildings nestled amongst small stands of trees with only a couple open areas for sports fields. There was also a pool. That sounded like fun. I could wear a swimsuit and better show off my growing curves. I was pleased to note that I was taking after Mom and Grams.

I quickly settled into a routine, getting on good terms with the teachers in all my favorite subjects. I made sure to sit in the front and make good eye contact. I also raised my hand frequently to answer questions. I didn't care if anyone called me a teacher's pet. I'd worry about friends later.

I still had James as a friend. He'd gotten back from his sports camp a couple weeks before school and we'd gotten together several times. He'd seemed a little confused at first though. We had some issues to work out.

"I'm so sorry about Tracy," were the first words out of his mouth when I went over to his house.

I shrugged. "It's okay now. Really. I'm so over her."

"Really?" He looked puzzled. "You seemed so depressed."

"Yeah. I saw my shrink. She straightened me out."

"Oh? What did she have to say?"

I explained about the memory conflicts I'd had and how she used hypnotherapy to help me out. He listened attentively but still looked doubtful.

"You can't just change your sexual preference, Beth."

"I know that. Doctor Franklin told me all about it. But I wasn't sure if I used to like boys before the fire. I could've just been confused."

"I don't know ...," he trailed off.

"She also said I could be bisexual. That's a possibility. Isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Don't worry," I said with a glint in my eye. "You're still not my type."

"Oh, thanks," he said with mock disappointment, and we laughed over it.

***

I ended up spending a lot of my free time in the library. It was so much nicer and more colorful than the one at my middle school. It also attracted the type of boy that kept catching my eye. I didn't go for the athletic types, like James. I had my sights set on short, slender boys who appreciated academics more than sports. I hung out in the library because it was the refuge of the geeks.

Several weeks into school, I had several chances to lure a few boys I liked, but I had a little problem. I had to contend with the librarian and her strict policy of absolute silence. The only way to get around the rule was to write notes. So that's what I did, and I wrote a lot.

The responses I got weren't very long or satisfying, but I had fun. Even if I couldn't find a boyfriend right away, I still got writing practice, and I had the thrill of subverting the rules. I wasn't a bad girl by any stretch of the imagination. I just liked to think I was.

***

September rolled quietly into October before I had my first real chance at a boy, and it was good that things were progressing as fast as they were. I was anxious to get a boyfriend before Tracy's birthday on the 12th. I wanted to sit with him and make sure she saw him. I hoped a boyfriend would make it possible to get her back as a friend. I still really missed her.

I was sitting in the library during my lunch hour, thinking about Tracy when a certain boy walked in and made me forget all about her. I didn't think it'd be possible, but this was no ordinary boy. It was Bobby Hanson.

He went over to sit with a couple other boys that I'd recently flirted with and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. It was love at first sight.

Before I knew what I was doing, I walked over to his table and stood there until I got his attention, which took all of two seconds. Then I gave him a come hither motion with my index finger, turned and left the library.

I didn't look to see if he followed, though I desperately wanted to. I just listened to the sounds of my footsteps and my wildly beating heart, threatening to burst from my chest.

I kept going until I got to an exit, but I didn't stop. I opened the door and was pleased to hear someone catch it just before it closed. Someone followed me.

I walked around outside until I found a spot away from windows and prying eyes. It wasn't hard to find privacy because it had gotten fairly cold outside. Not many students other than the athletes on the playing fields braved the cold. I was a little chilly, but my growing excitement kept me warm enough.

When I got to my destination, I turned, and there he was. Bobby had followed me. He looked a little confused, curious, and remarkably delicious, but before he could ask what I was up to, I stepped forward and planted a big kiss on his lips.

He squeaked a little but soon returned the kiss. Boys were so easy.

We finally came up for air and he spoke first. I was too busy eyeing him like a piece of meat.

"Wow, Beth. What was that for?"

He knew my name and it flattered me. I smiled.

"I had a crush on you back in 7th grade and I still like you ... a lot. I was hoping we could go out."

I tried to stay cool but my heart raced, and I sighed. The closer I got to a boy I liked, the warmer I got and the more I tingled. I felt a strong urge to hug and snuggle him forever. Doctor Franklin had warned me to be careful and take it slow but I ignored her advice. I felt like I had the situation well in hand.

I certainly did a much better job of staying calm than he did. I'm sure he would've stammered and blushed the rest of the lunch period if I didn't take his hand and lead him back inside. I didn't want my first boyfriend to catch cold. I had too many plans, first and foremost of which involved trolling for my former best friend. I wanted her back.

***

Bobby and I spent a lot of time together over the next few days so I could get him up to speed on my relationship rules. We exchanged cell phone numbers and he had to make sure to call me every weekday evening after dinner. We'd talk for a minimum of one hour and keep in touch to make plans for getting together on weekends.

For school, my rules included holding hands whenever we were together. He didn't have a problem with that, but he did have a problem with my kissing rule. So did the school. I figured that as long as we were together, he was fair game for a random kiss at any time. It was part of my plan to get Tracy back as my best friend. If she saw my boyfriend and me kissing, I figured she wouldn't feel threatened by me any more. Unfortunately, the school had a strict policy forbidding most displays of public affection.

I thought that as long as I made it a quick kiss on the lips, no one would say anything. It was really only the long, deep French kisses that made anyone uptight. I thought it a bit prudish but I could wait. I'd never French kissed before anyway. I wouldn't want to do it publicly unless I had some practice first, to make sure I did it well.

Bobby and I were always to sit together at lunch. That was another obvious rule, though he protested a little about it until I easily shut him up. I just kissed him and he lost the ability to speak for 10 or 15 minutes.

We were sitting at lunch one day and I was tempted to kiss him with a mouthful of apple when I suddenly realized something important that I'd missed. I'd been so wrapped up in my feelings and needs that I neglected to recognize that I'd given up my first kiss. A girl's first kiss should be special and memorable, and I got a little upset.

"What? What is it, Beth?" Bobby asked me.

"You wouldn't understand," I said, sniffling a little. At least he noticed I was upset.

He shook his head at my reply and I thought that was cute. It also made me feel superior. He didn't have a clue what was going on in my head and I preferred it that way. I could control him better if I didn't tell him everything.

We resumed our lunch and I went back to thinking about my first kiss, but I decided it wasn't so bad after all. Leading Bobby outside on a little mystery trip was cute and creative. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it. The power of being able to lead a boy around appealed to me too.

All I had left was to get Tracy to notice my relationship and I'd be set. I didn't go looking for her. I didn't want the kissing and hand holding to look staged. I hoped she'd be watching over the span of several days to see that I was serious. Only then would she come back to me.

Chapter 40: Normal Life

"What are you up to, Beth?" Tracy asked. She'd snuck up behind Bobby and me as we walked down the hall.

"Huh? Oh! Hi Tracy. This is my boyfriend, Bobby. Bobby, this is Tracy. She used to be my best friend but we had a ... disagreement."

"Disagreement?" Tracy said, slightly raising her voice. She sounded ready to explode, but at least I finally got her attention.

"Bobby?" I said. "Please go on ahead to the library. I'll meet you there later. I want to have a little girl talk."

"Okay. Sure." He scampered off and I wondered if he wasn't too pleased about leaving me behind. I'd have to think about letting him free one or two days a week. It would do me some good too. It would give me more time for things like girl talk.

"Okay. He's gone," Tracy said. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean? I have a boyfriend. What's so hard to understand?"

"But I thought you loved me?" she asked.

"I thought I did. But that was months ago after you really hurt my feelings. You made me feel like crap. I certainly couldn't love you after that."

It was true. I searched my feelings and came up empty. I felt a little physical attraction to her but then a cold shiver interrupted that attraction.

"I'm sorry about that," she said in a small voice. "But what about girls?"

"What about them?" Her question got me a little angry. I didn't like discussing the subject in the halls where anyone might happen by and hear.

"Well ... I thought you only liked girls."

I looked around but didn't see anyone, so I let Tracy have it.

"I do! I do like girls, but I also like boys. Did it ever occur to you that I could be bisexual?"

"No! You hated it when we flirted with boys at the mall. You never gave boys a second glance. Of course I thought you didn't like them."

She had me there. I did remember all that, and it confused me. But that was before I rediscovered Bobby. How could I make her understand when I didn't understand it myself?

"Okay. I don't expect you to understand it, Tracy. I don't exactly get it myself. I just know that I like boys. Okay? Can we please be friends again? I'm not going to try to kiss you and I'm not a freak. I just want to be friends again."

I started crying and Tracy hugged me out of reflex. We both had ourselves a good cry, and we made up. I got my best friend back, or maybe "back" wasn't the right word.

"Hey!" I said. "You're still wearing the friendship bracelet!"

"Well, so are you."

We laughed. We hadn't gotten rid of the symbol of our friendship, even though we'd separated. The friendship had been waiting all that time for us to wise up and get back together. I couldn't be happier.

We went to the restroom to fix our makeup and had a nice time catching up on things. I told her about my flagrant violation of school policies and she laughed. She even snorted and I covered for her with a cough. It felt like we started up right where we left off before all the nonsense with my silly infatuation.

"Oh! Oh no!" I said.

"What is it?"

"I've left Bobby alone all this time. He'll be completely lost. Who'll wipe his little nose? Who'll feed him and burp him?"

Tracy laughed and snorted again. I couldn't cover for her with a cough that time because I was laughing too. I just made sure to laugh loud enough to distract anyone from making fun of my best friend.

***

I glowed the rest of the week. I know I did. Everything came together. The long hours that Doctor Franklin spent with me paid off. I finally felt normal. I got my normal life.

I finished the wonderful week by visiting Mike's grave, and I went alone. Several weeks ago, I decided to get more exercise so I talked my mom into buying me a bicycle, a cheap and simple blue 10-speed that would work well enough to get me to the cemetery. It was to be my first road trip.

I dressed in baby blue sweats with a navy windbreaker. They'd keep me warm enough with all the exercise I'd get. Then I used a blue hair tie to put my shoulder length hair in a high pony tail and slipped on my killer bright blue walking shoes. Blue was the theme for the day. I thought it appropriate for a visit to my brother's grave.

"Don't forget the flowers!" my mom shouted from her bedroom. She wasn't feeling very well so I had another reason to go alone. She needed rest.

"Thanks, Mom! I got 'em."

I grabbed the small, plastic wrapped bouquet that my mother left on the kitchen table for me and gave it a close look. The daisies I'd grown last summer still looked fresh, even after months of being wrapped up. They dried well.

I put the flowers in a little carrier and hefted my bike from the deck and carried it across to the entry way, out the front door and down the single flight of stairs. It wasn't easy. The bicycle was heavy and awkward. I grunted and huffed and got a good warm-up for my ride. Then I was off.

The wind felt a little cold at first, but after the first mile, I warmed up and the wind felt more invigorating than anything else. The fresh air smelled good too, and it made me want to sing. For the moment though, being short on breath from my exertion, I settled for sporadic humming. I considered singing something once I got to my brother's grave, and if I could've thought of a good song for the occasion, I would've sung it.

***

The cemetery lied about five miles away, and I had second thoughts about the wisdom of riding that far for my first trip. My tired legs wobbled a bit when I dismounted.

I leaned heavily on my bike as I wheeled it over the zigzag path to my brother's grave, and once there, I put down the kickstand and sat heavily on the nearest part of the path.

"Hi Mike," I chirped, in spite of my tired muscles. I wouldn't let a little fatigue stop me from having a great week.

"It's me, Beth. Your loving sister. I've come to visit you."

I smiled and imagined him smiling back at me from wherever he might have been.

"I brought you flowers as usual. I just have to rest a little before I get them out."

I was sure he'd approve. He'd be patient. He wasn't going anywhere after all.

That thought made me giggle, and I chastised myself for it. It wasn't appropriate but I couldn't seem to help it. I was so happy.

"I'm sure you know this but I had some trouble with Tracy. We're best friends again now though. Don't worry, Bro."

He used to hate it when I called him Bro, but I couldn't resist.

"I've got more good news. I'm not sure how you'd take it though. You were always a little protective."

I chewed my lower lip, tasting my cherry lip gloss. I'd have to add a bit more before I rode home. It made great protection against the cold wind.

"Well ... I guess I can tell you, since you're so nice and quiet and polite." Again, I giggled.

"I got a boyfriend!"

I suddenly blurted out everything about my first boyfriend in an excited rush of words. I told Mike everything, including my first kiss and virtually every subsequent kiss in exquisite detail. I felt so excited to finally have a normal life. I'd waited so long. I just hoped Mike was happy for me, wherever he was.

***

I made it home from that first bike trip without too much trouble. I just took it slow and easy. I had to save some energy for the rest of the weekend because I had some celebrating to do for Tracy's birthday. She'd be only one year away from being sweet 16. It was an exciting time.

We'd even be meeting Anne and Kathy at the mall. After I professed my new appreciation of boys and promised to behave properly around them, they'd decided to give me another chance. They'd knew I had a boyfriend so they'd believed me and graciously accepted me back to reunite the original girl gang of four. We'd be certain to have a good time.

Only one thing bothered me as the months wore on. Just before Christmas of my freshman year, I had a very disturbing nightmare that seemed eerily familiar. In the dream, I saw Michelle, my inner sister, trapped inside my old burning house. I somehow knew it was her, even though I could only imagine what she might look like. Her face seemed more like a feminine version of Mike than mine so it had to be her. She stood with her face pressed against the glass, and she smiled, even as the flames slowly consumed her. It was a sad smile, and it looked strained from the obvious pain she must have felt, but she kept smiling nonetheless.

I woke up in a sweat from the bad dream, but I shrugged it off and carried on through the rest of my first exciting year of high school. I really couldn't have been happier.

Chapter 41: Two Years Later

High school flew by. Before I knew it, I was well into my junior year of high school. I kept my grades up, excelling in both English and Math. I didn't like Math but I couldn't seem to help doing well in the class. It didn't matter though. I was sweet 16 and loved it!

I had a nice present back on my 16th birthday. I'd finally had my last physical exam at the strange hospital where I got my special therapy. The doctors there had finally declared me fit for normal physicals and a truly normal life. Mom, Grams and I had all went out to celebrate and we had a grand time. I had nothing left to hold me back and I'd promised myself to embrace life with renewed vigor.

I'd long since dumped Bobby and replaced him with a succession of boyfriends. My big boobs, pretty face and long, wavy brown hair made me popular with the boys so it was too easy to find a willing victim to wrap around my little finger. My first love was just a warm-up for a long string of broken hearts.

I don't know why I treated boys so badly. I couldn't seem to help myself. I wasn't normally cruel, and I tried to control myself. At least I managed to give my boyfriends what they wanted some of the time -- within reason. No one had yet to take my virginity. I vowed to wait until I turned 18 before I'd let that happen.

I continued to ignore Doctor Franklin's advice about boys. I had no patience to get to know my intended boyfriend before I pounced on him. I knew what I wanted and I went for it. I felt safe enough anyway. I generally double dated with my girlfriends so we had someone to watch our backs. The boys didn't dare step out of line.

Double dating was such a cool idea. Us girls could watch out for each other, and we'd have someone to hold a decent conversation. I could only stand my date's posturing and rambling for so long before I had to grab my girlfriend for a restroom break. We'd freshen our makeup and have a real conversation before going back out into the social wasteland.

On one particularly cold November night, Anne and I had just escaped from an especially boring pair of boys and retreated to the restroom at a warm, cozy Italian restaurant. We stood next to each other in front of the mirror and touched up our lipstick after eating. We needed to recharge and compare notes.

"Rick is such a stupid shit," I groaned. "I don't know what I saw in him."

"His perfect tight ass perhaps?" Anne smirked.

She had me. I was a sucker for boys' derrieres.

"Yeah." I sighed. "That and his big brown eyes. They're so dreamy."

Anne turned and looked at me. "I just don't get you. A couple years ago you seemed to hate boys. Now you're crazy for 'em. What got into you?"

"Didn't Tracy tell you? I got some therapy."

"Yeah? Well, your shrink did a good job."

I shrugged and smiled. "I guess."

Anne and I usually led the boyfriend hunt for our gang of four, and we double dated together. We were the best looking and easily snagged boys, leaving Tracy and Kathy to pair with our castoffs.

I felt a little bad about tossing the scraps to my best friend, but she didn't seem to mind. She got a lot more action that way, and she even managed to get a nice date on her own once in awhile. It made me wonder about something though.

"Remind me again why we don't split up and pair with our other friends," I said to Anne.

"Duh. Kathy is a dating disaster. Remember? I'm afraid she'd sabotage my date along with her own. I love her like a sister but no way am I dating with her."

"That's right," I sighed. "What a shame."

I didn't exactly avoid Kathy, but she was more high-strung than I liked. Only Tracy had the patience and compassion to date with Anne's supposed best friend. Kathy always got so nervous around boys she couldn't do anything right. She'd turn into a clumsy, babbling wreck and would scare most of her dates away long before her curfew. We helped her score nine different dates in the past two years and none of them resulted in a boy asking for a second date. I know it was nine dates because Tracy counted. I wouldn't consider counting them. I'd long since lost count of my own.

Tracy didn't fare much better in the dating department. She had a couple solo second dates, and even a third date once, but since she usually stuck with Kathy, she ended up having to bail on her date after Kathy's left. She'd console the distraught girl and try to help her work on relaxing, even though it seemed hopeless. My best friend was really a nice, caring person.

I sighed and finished my lips with a coat of lip shimmer. Then Anne and I put on our happy faces and braved our dull but good-looking dates. We'd take the bad with the good, until someone better came along.

It was too bad James and I no longer got together. He was such a nice guy, and I found him increasingly attractive, but I knew I never had a chance with him. The sexual tension between us was awkward, and since I lost interest in sports, we had nothing in common and drifted apart. I briefly wondered if a trip to see Doctor Franklin might change his sexual preference. She worked wonders, but I doubt he'd agree to see her. He seemed pretty comfortable with who he was. What a shame.

***

My life wasn't all perfect. One thing did start to concern me. I had a recurring nightmare that really started to get to me. It started about two years ago, but back then it was spaced several months apart and I could handle it well enough. Since school started this fall though, the frequency drastically increased along with the number of dates I had. It recurred as often as once a week, and if it kept up, I worried I'd go crazy.

The bad dream had me a little wary of falling asleep, and that was unacceptable. I needed my beauty rest if I was to keep my edge on the other girls.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Beth?"

"Do you still have Doctor Franklin's card?"

I no longer saw the blue business card stuck on the fridge where it had been for at least a couple years. The card disappeared one day and I never thought to ask about it. I didn't feel the need for any more therapy.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I've got another problem."

I explained everything to my mom, and as I did, she looked increasingly concerned. She didn't like the idea of me going back to my psychologist but she agreed I should see her. I really did need help.

***

By mid-December, I started getting really frustrated and worried. My dreaded nightmare recurred two or three times a week and I wasn't sleeping well at all. I had dark circles under my eyes that took a ton of concealer to hide. I was not a happy girl.

I wasn't even close to being as bad as Kathy but Anne noticed my lack of proper focus on my date and started commenting on it. She also started hinting that it might be better to go solo, and that really freaked me out. I didn't want to be left alone with a boy. I could see them undressing me with their eyes and it made me very nervous. I didn't know if I'd be able to stop them once they started. I was afraid I wouldn't want to stop them.

I'd had several sessions with Doctor Franklin by that time, but they weren't helping. So far, she didn't think I needed hypnosis, but she was getting frustrated with my lack of progress and eventually suggested it. She set up an appointment for the first day of Christmas vacation and promised that she'd try everything she could to have me fixed up in time to celebrate the holidays in good cheer. I gave her a faint smile and hoped she was right.

Chapter 42: Meltdown

I felt more than a little anxiety and trepidation about my upcoming appointment with Doctor Franklin. That's because I'd been lying to her. I lied about who's face I saw in the fire, telling her it was my brother and hoping she could still help me. I stubbornly refused to give up Michelle.

When Doctor Franklin hypnotized me though, there was no doubt in my mind that she'd find out about my lie, and that terrified me. I didn't see how it'd be possible but I fully expected my psychologist to somehow extract Michelle from my mind and I'd forget all about my inner sister.

Forgetting Michelle seemed like the only way I'd ever get over my nightmares about her, and I tried to talk myself into it being a good thing. It didn't work though. I still had a very bad feeling about it. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

I cried myself to sleep the night before the appointment, and thankfully, I didn't have the nightmare to add to my distress.

***

My mom and I didn't talk at all until we were nearly to the hospital, though I'm sure she sensed how upset I was. I didn't try to hide it. I cried almost all morning and continued until we entered the parking garage and parked. We got out of the car and walked to the elevators before I cried myself out. Then she asked me a very good question.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Last night, I'd told her about the hypnotherapy and how much I dreaded it. I still hadn't told her exactly why, I hadn't told her or anyone else about Michelle, but she knew how torn up I was. My rid-rimmed eyes with dark circles under them said it all.

"I have to, Mom. I'm ... desperate."

I cried a little again and came very close to telling her my little secret. If I told her, she might be able to trigger my memory and return Michelle to me, assuming Doctor Franklin made me forget about her. But if I did cling to Michelle, my nightmares would probably remain as well. I couldn't take the chance. I had to fix this last problem once and for all.

Last summer, I thought I'd be okay. I thought I'd be happy the rest of my life, until that horrible dream started haunted me so often. I was so close to being a normal girl. I just had to forget Michelle, and everything would be okay.

***

My mom stayed in the little waiting room, with its single fake potted plant and a small table littered with a dozen or so ancient copies of family and military magazines. I hadn't read any of them but I could tell what they were by the covers. They either had kids and families or military vehicles and weapons. I thought it to be an odd mix but I shrugged it off. I had a more pressing matter to worry about.

As I sat on the comfortable black leather couch in Doctor Franklin's office, I prepared myself for her to finish the job that she'd started over two and a half years ago, and I suddenly noted many details about that office, details that I couldn't seem to recall. I didn't remember the black leather couch, or the two split leaf philodendrons on either side of the door. I didn't notice the cream colored walls or the photos of various mountains that hung on those walls. The room was like a vacuum that sucked up and hoarded all memories of itself. It was a very strange feeling.

I looked over at my psychologist and noticed her ice blue eyes, regarding me with such emotional detachment, I felt like part of the furniture. Her eyes were as cold as I imagined the mountains were in the photos that lined the walls of her office, and I shivered. It was the same reaction I had to a lot of girls and women, but with her, it was amplified a hundred times, and it filled me with dread.

"Well, Beth, are you ready to get started?" she asked.

"As ready as ever," I replied.

She took one last look in a file folder on her desk, briefly flashed a satisfied looking smile and pulled up a chair next to the couch. The session was about to begin, and it would've if not for a sudden, sharp knocking on the door.

"Not now," she suddenly hissed through gritted teeth. I'd never seen her so uptight and it scared me.

The knock persisted and got louder until she got up and stalked over to her door. She opened it just a crack and peeked at whoever had knocked.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me for interrupting," I heard a man's voice say. It oozed with insincerity and sounded vaguely familiar but I tried to ignore it. "I want to talk to you. Now."

"Now?" Doctor Franklin's voice sounded a little stressed. "Now is a bad time, an exceedingly bad time. I'm with a patient here."

"That's what I want to talk to you about." The man practically snarled, making me feel a little sorry for my psychologist. No one should have to work with such a jerk.

"I must protest ...," she tried to say, but she was interrupted by the rude man.

"Protest all you want, but the Board has authorized me to end this little freak show. It's gone on long enough."

"How dare you?!"

"Can we talk out in the hall?" the man asked. "Or would you rather hide behind your door and let the little freak hear everything we say?"

I'm sure my eyes must have been as wide as saucers at that point, but Doctor Franklin either didn't notice or didn't care. She excused herself and shut the door behind her. That didn't stop me from hearing what they soon started shouting out in the hall though.

"Your experiment is a failure, and it's being terminated ... as of now," I heard the man say. He hadn't started shouting yet but his voice projected well enough to easily make out.

"I'm this close to my first success and you want to end it?!" Doctor Franklin's shrill voice cut through the door like it wasn't there.

"Success? Is that what you call it? She just keeps coming back. Every time you insist she's finished, she comes back!"

I started to get the distinct impression that they were talking about me, but that was absurd. I refused to believe that I was thought of as an experiment, or a freak show for that matter.

"I'm one session away from finishing! She's just been having nightmares! It's nothing I can't handle!" I heard Doctor Franklin's shrill voice again. It sent a shiver down my spine that was worse than the one I got from her gaze.

"I've read the file. He's just a pervert in girl's clothing."

That got my attention, and I almost shrieked. Not only did the man's voice sound familiar, but what he said and the way he said it started to bring back vague memories.

"You prick!" Doctor Franklin countered.

She didn't have a good comeback but I liked it anyway. It was exactly the same thing I was thinking. The man was a prick, and he continued shouting, but I missed most of it. That's because the room started slowly spinning.

I suddenly had memories of lying in the hospital, covered in bandages. I remembered being told about having several transplants and bone operations, and a special form of gene therapy that would allow me to function as a normal, healthy girl for the rest of my life. I also remembered being visited twice by who I was convinced was the same man who shouted out in the hall. The memories flooded in but most of them didn't make sense, and they certainly didn't match the way I remembered things.

I started hyperventilating when I heard Doctor Franklin escalate from a shriek to a full scream.

"How can you say that?! You've seen the video tapes! Beth is a complete success!"

That confirmed it. They were talking about me, and they mentioned video tapes. They video taped me in the hospital ... and that prick viewed them!

The room spun faster and faster. I tightly shut my eyes but I still felt the sensation of spinning, and it made me nauseous. Memories continued to flood in. I remembered lusting after girls in the shower. I remembered playing baseball. I remembered a fire and being burned. I was horribly burned!

I'm sure I screamed, and then the world slowly faded to black, as it had so often a little over two and half years ago, while I was lying in a hospital bed, with severe burns covering over 90 percent of my body.

*** to be concluded on Wednesday ***

 © 2009 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.