Masks Chapter 34

Chapter 34

*Before…

And Omigod Hicks…and that kinda sort of flirting…yay?

But Ripley…Oh my goddess she kicks butt…and then it’s getting more and more intense and then there’s this whole thing when she’s on the ship and the queen’s on the ship and the walking forklift thing and I’m with Mom and Rachel and her mom as all the women are yelling out along with her at the screen.

“Get away from her, you BITCH!”

Best Movie Heroine EVER!!!

*And Now…

It was late I mean sort of late for a school night and stuff by the time we got home from Rachel’s place. Mom and her mom sort of hit it off with this sort of artist and sisterhood kind of thing and actually doing the dishes with Rachel I heard mom and her talking about girls and stuff like me and Rachel and stuff. It was more about positive female role models than about my transgendered stuff.

I think maybe that they had that talk while Rachel and I were hanging out outside and shooting the bow.

It was still as really good day and stuff…I got to be me, I got to settle stuff with a friend and even her folks. I mean all in all it’s a really good day and maybe getting some headway in the whole crapoo blizzard that’ll likely come once I’m out.

And with a bonus Rachel and I did get stuff done homework wise and stuff.

Y’know there’s a certain level of strut you have when you have all your stuff together and everything.

We get home and I hug Mom and Dad before heading upstairs. “Thanks you guys. It was so cool of you guys coming and stuff and talking to Rachel’s parents and stuff.”

Dad hugs me really hard. “It was a pleasure kiddo they’re nice folks but it’s also our jobs too. You’re going to have a lot on your plate the rest of your life let us handle the adult stuff for now okay?”

I bury my face into his chest and snuggle some. I’m so not a guy but it doesn’t mean the guys that I know aren’t good guys and stuff. “Deal daddy.”

He hugs me in a last big squeeze and I hug mom again after that and I go to my room.

I really don’t want to do it but I start getting my Steven wear out for tomorrow.

It’s funny in that odd-funny and not the ha-ha-funny that the urrpy-bad-butterflies I was feeling starting all this and being Stephanie is now reversed and I have that kind of urrpy feeling at looking at my Steven stuff and knowing I have to do this again.

This Saturday cannot come fast enough for good or for bad.

After Halloween I can be myself.

Ooooh there’s this whole lump of dread there along with the whole bunch of excitement and stuff and I set everything aside and then I head down the hall to Will and Rob’s room.

Oomph…I can smell the mixture of teenage boy funk and sweaty sneakers and Axe body Spray and Right Guard from like six feet from the door and it’s just…Yick…Really, I mean really can they not smell that?

Apparently not.

I knock. I’m going to be a polite sister at least.

Will opens the door and he’s eating something and sort of doing that cow chewing thing.

“Wassup?”

Mental eye roll soo fake street…I know we’re sort of good and stuff but they are still the twins and still teen guys and brothers and therefore kinda gross.

“You mind if I commandeer the bathroom?”

“Not as long as you clean it up after.”

Clean it up…what? Does he?

Will… “I mean sometimes lately you leave it with all that girly frou-frou stinking stuff around and it’s like gross.”

“It’s gross….?”

“Yeah it’s like Barbie took a shit in there and she exploded.”

Eeeeeeeeew effing guys.

“Will have you ever been in there after you two have been in there?”

“Yeah so?”

“Will… Axe is deodorant a little goes a long way it’s not spray on sunscreen.”

“Hey…I don’t use that much!”

“Bro…You make the Middle eastern kids gag on the stuff.”

Okay…I’m not being racist or I’m trying not to but some Arabic and Middle Eastern kids wear a lot of cologne and perfume just like some of the East Indian kids too. It’s part cultural and stuff but part of it’s like diet and stuff…it’s different with the kids that are like that from here but we have immigrant kids too and they like kinda bathe in the stuff.

It’s true…like sorry.

But I’m not joking about the Axe and Will and Rob and some of the other guys.

It’s got to be the Testosterone.

The blood rushing from one head to the other is apparently coming from the nose and killing their sense of smell.

Maybe taste too.

I’ve seen teen guys eat some very dubious looking stuff.

I look at Will and he looks at me. “Okay, okay fine but try and not to girl it up too much.”

I nod. “It won’t last even if I do Will; I gotta go back to faking it tomorrow.”

He looks at me again and he sorta nods. “Is it really that bad?”

I look him straight in the eyes. “Will you know me and you know me as Steven so who’s the real one?”

He gives me this serious look back and he’s actually thinking about it. It takes a few of those up front with someone serious and painfully long minutes but he nods and he gives me a hug. “You…honestly Steph I don’t really get it but I can tell that you’re a lot more like genuinely you than before and all. I’d rather you just be like you and stuff.”

*Sniffle.* “Thanks.”

“Hey don’t thank me, you’re actually a lot easier to take like this you’re nicer and stuff.”

“Yeah…well it’s easier when you can be yourself and not feeling like you’re suffocating.”

“Suffocating?”

“It’s like wearing a mask Will, a mask I never asked for and no one see’s the real me and no one can hear my real voice and sometimes even in the mirror I can’t even see her even though I know she’s there…that I’m there under the mask I have to wear.”

Will nods and he actually hugs me.

“You got us okay Kim.”

“Kim?”

I hear Rob from inside their bedroom. “Hicka-bicka-boo sis.”

Aaaaw… Their my twin brothers and I’m their Kim Possible…it’s kinda sweet and kinda cool too since even though it’s an older cartoon Kim has been one of my cartoon role models.

*Sniffle* “You guys actually kind of rock.”

Rob from in the room. “Naturally!”

I laugh and give Will another squeeze back before heading off to commandeer the bathroom.

And I’m singing the theme song for Kim Possible in my head because it’s actually kinda catchy and stuff. That’s actually all right because it’s me time and the last few dwindling moments of it before tomorrow starts.

I scrub out the tube before doing anything else. I just gotta because I just kinda feels eeew to not to. I guess it’s just a thing of mine I know some people won’t bother and well my brothers are kinda shower guys but still.

And it’s a tub and shower enclosure so…I mean they’re teen guys…I’m so glad I don’t own a UV light.

Yick…

I get the water good and hot before I add in the bath beads and slowly let the tub fill while I get undressed and take my breast forms off and I’m actually trying really hard to not focus on that part.

It’s nothing I ever wanted, it’s in the way it hangs and flops and it’s ugly too…it looks wrong on me so much that it hurts and just the few glances I catch of my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door is just….

“How the hell am I going to do years of this?”

A few tears slip down and I climb into the bath wincing at the heat but glad for it too.

I hate this, I hate being transgender because it can just hit you out of the blue. I was in such a good mood just minutes ago and then I see IT and Whammo a dys-flash attack.

It’s like getting emotionally mugged only it’s all inside of you and you look at the you that’s never been you and you wonder why?

It takes a while for me to shake it off.

It takes practice to do that y’know, part of it is living stealth you bottle it up and you hide the real pain because most people won’t get it, some won’t want to get it and will be assholes if they knew and then there’s that whole thing…

That obsession with having to be okay.

You have to be okay, have to be happy and well-adjusted and wear that mask like its privilege.

So you hide it and you keep keeping on.

Soaping actually takes my mind off of it. A bar of Dove right out of the package and I let it just sit in the hot water a little before using it and it’s so soft then it is easy to really sort of coat myself and I get a little lost in the way it feels doing my legs. Oddly therapeutic…and I need that.

Another joy of being Trans, you are so messed up and hurting and questioning things that you actually pretty much know that you need therapy of some kind.

Being a transgender person does not make you broken; living while being a transgender person breaks you sometimes in a whole lot of ways.

Once I’m soapy I sit in the hot water until the soap sort of melts off of me and I try to relax while I’m just there sort of sleeping, sort of meditating? I actually don’t know how to meditate but I’m just clearing my head.

Tuck myself like the woman from Trans-America did in the bath.

Yeah I know she’s a real girl and stuff but still…as much as there should be trans-people playing Trans people it was kind of a big mainstream thing. Kind of like Boys Don’t Cry.

Yeah I know there’s content and stuff but I watched them on You Tube.

I sink under the water like she did and a lot of people I see on movies or TV do and I just sort of let the heat take me. Soap and hot water and just time to myself and it helps, it helps me fight out of the funk and with a gasp of air and then a deep inhale and a sigh I start washing and getting out before I’m all pruney.

I get dressed in my panties and PJ’s and I brush my teeth and I head to bed.

………………………………… Morning comes way, way too early. Oh wow I just love my bed and sleeping like this…it just seems to have this really nice ability to let me sleep as myself at least.

Sleep’s a big deal if you’re like me.

It’s hard to turn your brain off when you’re Trans.

Go to you drop, stay way too busy stay up too much…insomnia…how much gets lost by not sleeping in a place that’s yours? As much as not being able to be you I think.

I hug my pillows thankfully and bury my face as I shut down my alarm clock.

Time to get up and time for Steven.

Okay….it took longer than I thought it would just getting dressed the wrong way and everything. Not hurtful, not yet but it was hard. I had to force it after this weekend, after yesterday.

I look in the mirror and he’s there and he’s just not…I take a breath and shift my weight and adjust my posture and stuff and yeah…It’s not me.

I take out a sheet of paper from my note pad in my drawer and some tape and I draw a 6 on it.

Six days…counting today sic days before I’m taking of the mask and being done with all of it.

I head down stairs and I can smell breakfast bacon cooking and I see a pair of M.J.’s styling calf high boots at the door and I smile.

I actually really missed her yesterday.

And she’s here first thing and she’s not a morning person so she’s here for support.

I really love her for that.

Okay maybe today’s going to be alright….I cross my fingers and then head into the kitchen.