How I can't really say I spent my summer.

There’s less than a week, now, until school starts at my new high school. I do hope I don’t have to write up a “What I did on my summer vacation” essay. That would be totally embarrassing, and not a good intro to a new school.

It’s not like the summer was uneventful – far from it. But I’d rather all the details weren’t known, and don’t want to have to discuss my reactions, at least any more than I have to with the shrinks I’m having to see. I suppose I should write it down, for my eyes only, as it might be useful to look back in a few years. I guess it starts with the accident I had at the beginning of summer.

I’d give you the details of the accident, but I honestly don’t remember them. They say the brain is good at forgetting bad things, and it must have really hurt. Heck, things still hurt two months later, though nothing like they did when the pain meds first wore off at the hospital. Near as they can tell, it involved a train, a railroad bridge and a chain link fence. The trains don’t go by there that often, and lots of kids use that bridge as a short-cut. I just had the luck, which most people see as bad luck, to be there are the wrong time.  

Waking up in the hospital was odd. It was painful, and I was in and out of conciousness for a while, while my parents tried to comfort me and tell me that things would get better, though they didn’t seem too sure, sometimes. Seems the accident had torn away my male bits, and it was all they could do to keep me from bleeding to death as they worked to fix things. My male bits couldn’t be saved, and the doctors were recommending that they fix me up as a girl. Well, they mostly had, since they’d had to do a lot of surgery there to keep me alive, and went for the closest to “normal” they could do with what they had.

What was really odd about this, was that it so closely matched a fantasy I’d been having for years. Sometimes there was an accident. Other times it was a mysterious illness. They details of the accidents and the illnesses often changed slightly, but the end result was that the only way to save my life would be to cut away my guy bits and make me a girl. I could wail away at the injustice of it all, but in the end, I was always a girl, and it wasn’t my fault! It was a bit of a shock to actually wake up in the middle of one of those fantasies. I did the pinch to check for dreaming bit, but I was on so much pain drug at the time that I it was a few days before I was sure it was real.

In my dreams, though, I never had to deal with the shrinks. They’ve been the biggest pain! Well, okay, the physical pain was probably bigger, but that was getting better all the time. I always assumed I could wail and gnash my teeth about how I didn’t want to be a girl and how cruel life was for having forced me into this. That way, I wouldn’t have to admit that I had always wanted to be, and it would all be nicely out of my hands. In the real situation, though, I almost protested too much. One of the shrinks started talking about giving me male hormones and having me stay a guy to the rest of the world, even if I didn’t have the bits. I think I almost gave myself away, then. I made a show of facing reality, and made noises about wanting to live as normally as possible, and recognizing that that now meant as a girl. They seemed to buy it, and we’re back on track to my living as a girl. They’ve even started me on girl hormones. I think it would go smoother if I didn’t have to sit down with them so often though.

Physically, I’m feeling better. I got to leave the hospital after a few weeks, and things have been healing since. I still don’t have a great amount of energy, and things still hurt a bit, but nothing like it did at first. It was messy to pee when they first took out the tubes, but that seems better, now too. I have to sit, of course, and wipe up after, so I suppose it’s still messier than it used to be, but probably no worse than for most girls.

Mom and Dad seem to be coping. They give me odd looks, now and then, and I get some amount of sympathy, combined with forced cheerfulness, and a considering look. I wonder if they suspect how little I mind this, sometimes. They made arrangements for me to go to a different high school than I’d planned. It’s still close by, but there won’t be many of the kids I know from junior high there. I hadn’t really started puberty before the accident, so I don’t look that out of place dressed as a girl. And speaking of that, I have to go with mom now to shop for school uniforms. I’ll have to remember to roll my eyes at the skirts. It’s expected, you see.



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