Everything in Charlie’s life became slow and dreary after a period of unexpected escalation. Yes, he returned home to his family after nearly being kidnapped by a psychotic blackmailer. However, that did not mean everything would immediately return to normal. There were still a lot of unanswered questions pressing on the minds of those who loved Charlie and he knew they would start asking sooner rather than later. He had prepared every nook and cranny of a cover story so extensive that he almost believed it himself. At least he wanted to anyway.

The time of questioning came two days after Charlie had returned and it took place at the kitchen table with Mary at one end, and Charlie at the other. Rachel sat in the middle, as if she was preparing herself to be the mediator of an oncoming fight. The clock ticked tiresomely to the sound of chairs creaking and occasional sighs. It was very awkward indeed.

“So where did you disappear to, Charlie?” Mary asked, staring blankly as she nursed her coffee. “Tell us exactly what happened.”

“I think you owe the truth by now,” said Rachel, moving her hand towards Charlie’s arm without touching him.

Charlie sat back in his chair, feeling his entire body flush over with heat as he prepared to lie through his teeth once again. He could not believe himself at that moment as he refused to look at his mother directly the eyes. Feeling interrogated, he dug hard into the sweaty palms of his hands with his nails until he could no longer bare the pain. “I – um – I was at a party,’’ he said hoarsely.

“What kind of party?” Mary asked, her tone suggesting she already knew the answer to her own question.

Charlie stared into the glint of light reflecting off the silver of the saltshaker, wishing he could disappear into it and never return.

“Not a – not a drug party?” said Rachel softly.

“Let him speak for himself, Rachel!” said Mary, raising her hand to subdue her daughter.

Charlie hesitated before giving a stiff nod. The silence in the room could have cut through him like a knife to butter.

“Charlie, look at me,” said Mary. “Look at me now.”

Charlie lifted his head to see his mothers face completely transformed from what it was just moments ago. She looked like she was trying her best to conceal her disappointment, which made him feel him feel even worse than he had originally anticipated.

“How long, Charlie?” she said, her voice beginning to crack.

Charlie looked at Rachel who looked more shocked rather than upset. “A couple of months now,” he said, hanging his head as he dug his nail into the tablecloth. “Don’t worry though. I haven’t been using any hard stuff. Just pills and herbs.”

Then, Mary said something that Charlie had not prepared himself for. “H-Have you been using drugs because of me?” she asked, almost child-like in tone.

“What – because of – because of you?” Charlie stammered, startled at the thought. “What on earth would make you say that?”

Mary hesitated, looking as if she was carefully considering her thoughts.

“…because I haven’t been the best Mom as of late, have I?” said Mary, beginning to tear up. “I’ve been – I’ve been neglecting you for my share of drink while t-trying to keep everything normal – it’s just - the mortgage, the never-ending bills, bills, bills, – I – I just don’t want the two best things in my life to t-turn sour because of my – because of my uselessness!” she said, wiping her eyes.

“Mom, this isn’t your fault!” Rachel urged, flashing a quick glare at her brother. “Tell her, Charlie!”

Beginning to grow restless in his seat, Charlie quickly shot up and walked around the table to his mother. He knelt down and took her arms into his hands. “Mom, look at me,’’ Charlie insisted, his eyes ablaze with sincerity. “None of this is your fault, do you understand?”

Mary reluctantly turned to face to her son. “I’m – I’m just so tired of feeling like this all of the t-time now. It’s too much, Charlie. It’s too much.”

“I know, I know, Mom. Believe me, we all get down, but you have to remember that when we hit our lowest point, we should be open to change,” said Charlie, gazing up at his mother’s drooped head as he gently took her hands. “Are you listening?”

“I’m so sorry!” Mary sobbed, her voice cracking under the sheer weight of emotion.

“Shh, don’t be saying that when you have nothing to apologise for,” said Charlie, feeling a lump of guilt grow in his throat. “I’m the one who should be apologising, not you, so quit stealing my lines here, Mom!” he said, feebly attempting to lighten the mood. He looked to Rachel whom now stood by Mary, softly comforting her shoulder as soothing consolation.

“Mom, look at me,” said Charlie. “I’m so, so sorry for what I put you through over the past few days. I’m sorry for my selfish and arrogant behaviour over the past few months and – and I’m just sorry about me!” he said, finally cracking under the heavy weight in his chest.

The hot sadness of his heart spilled from his eyes as Mary brought him into a motherly embrace. “Oh Charlie,” she said, clenching tight onto her son. “Don’t ever apologise for being you.”

Rachel’s timid awkwardness was eased as soon as her mother invited her into the embrace too. “Everything is going to okay from now on, Mom,” said Rachel. “We promise.”

Sniffling back her tears, Mary kissed both her children on the head. “I sure hope so,” she said. “J-Just don’t take drugs anymore, Charlie, because that’s a bad road to be going down.”

“I won’t, Mom. I promise.”

“I think it goes without saying b-but I think you should both stay away from that Dave character,” said Mary, beginning to sound more like herself again. “That boy has proven himself to be quite the bad influence on both of you.”

“No problem,” said Charlie.

“I think you should forget about paying off this place, Mom,” said Rachel. “It’s not worth all this hassle. It’s just a house.”

Mary did not respond for a moment as she took in what Rachel said. “We’ll talk about it later, honey.”

The night was crisp and cool. Barry O’Donnell breathed out condensation as he leafed through his abundance of keys until he found the right one. Cursing under his breath, his fingers fumbled with the cold as he unlocked the door and stepped inside his house. He took off his coat, threw it onto the hanger, and unloaded the weight of a hard day’s work off his shoulders with a deep sigh.

“Son! Are you home?” he called out as he walked over to the answering machine.

There was no response. The silence was broken when Barry pressed the answering machine button, “You have no new messages.”

His brow raised, Barry scratched his balding head as he called out for his son once again. “Dave, are you here?” he bellowed as he skimmed through various letters left on the table. “I guess not!” he said to himself, turning towards the kitchen.

He then heard an all too familiar creak in the floorboards right above his head. Looking up, Barry grimaced as he walked to the staircase and went upstairs. Walking down the hallway, he could see light pouring through the gap beneath the door into Dave’s bedroom. Increasing in pace, Barry pushed the door open, and nearly screamed with utter fright. “What on earth -,”

Dave was gagged and bound to a chair. He appeared to be exhausted. He was feminised from head-to-toe in female garb and makeup. A wig of long, shiny black hair hung down over his breast-formed cleavage, shown wonderfully through his unbuttoned sleeveless white blouse, which was neatly tucked into a short yet high-waisted black skirt that revealed every inch of his hosiery-smothered legs.

What alarmed Barry even more was the masked individual who emerged from the ensuite, dressed completely in black.

“Who are yo – what is the meaning of all this?!” Barry demanded as he stepped into the bedroom.

“Oh thank god you showed up,” said the masked individual in a female voice with a slight European accent. It was Prue. “I was beginning to wonder if you were coming home at all. I bet you’re wishing you hadn’t now!”

Barry took a few timid steps towards his son but was stopped by Prue’s raised hand. “Ah ba ba! Don’t go near him until I take you through the terms of this little debacle we’ve got here,” said Prue, standing behind Dave’s chair with her hands resting on his shoulders.

“I’m warning you, if you harm my son, I’ll –,“

“Look, I’ll spare you all the little details by cutting the chase,” said Prue. She clearly did not want to be there. “Your boy has been very, very busy making people’s lives a misery, Mr. O’Donnell.”

Barry looked at his son, his face wrinkled with outrage yet his eyes spoke of deep concern regarding Prue’s oncoming story. It was as if he was preparing himself to hear the worst of his son without even denying the truthfulness. “What have you been up to, Dave?” said Barry, worriedly shaking his head. “What have you DONE this time?”

Prue told Barry everything about his son’s actions, from his crippling breakup with Rachel to the blackmailing of Charlie and finally the attempted kidnapping. She explained everything in a cold and detached manner, which made it even worse for Barry, who looked upon his pathetic mess of a son, constrained and beautified to the chair, with a look or pure disgrace. Prue backed up her story with the photographs Dave had taken of Charlie dressed up along with other source material she has obtained herself.

The moment Prue finished talking; a deathly silence fell upon the room like a smothering blanket. Even Dave stopped snivelling and sobbing, as he looked up at his stunned father, anticipation shining through his marbled eyes.

Barry swallowed down what he just heard, briefly stroking his chin as he looked to the floor for help. “I see,” he said. He looked up at Prue, staring at her with revulsion. “You see, Dave gets quiet ill. He has problems regarding -,”

“I don’t care what your son has,” Prue interjected. “You can’t escape the fact that he blackmailed, assaulted, and attempted to kidnap someone because of his own delusions.”

“I understand, yes, b-but tell me something, how come you haven’t reported this to the police? What is it that you want – is it ah – is it money?”

“No. I don’t want any of your money, Mr. O’Donnell,” said Prue, her hand resting on top of Dave’s head. “I will report your son un -,”
Dave’s eyes could have popped out of their sockets as he gazed at his father with disbelief. “Hmmmphhhmmmpph,” he grumbled through the gag shoved in his mouth. He looked up at Prue through the corner of his eyes and began struggling under the binds.

“Then what do you want?!” Barry shouted, clearly upset by his son’s struggling. “Why have you done all this?”

“I wasn’t finished, Mr. O’Donnell,” said Prue, squaring right up to Barry, her fiery blue eyes piercing through the holes in her balaclava. “As much as I’d like see your boy behind bars, I’m going to give you both an alternative option, and it absolutely kills me to do this.”

“I – I don’t understand – why would you help my son after those – UNSPEAKABLE – things he did to that Charlie boy?” fumbled Barry, crashing under the tense closeness of Prue in front of him.

“Because I care about Charlie’s wellbeing,” said Prue. “Because I know what it’s like to be screwed around by monsters like your son, Mr. O’Donnell, but you need not fret about it much longer because you’re going to do something very, very important for me.”

“W-What’s that?” Barry stammered.

“I want you to leave,” Prue said coldly.

“And go where?” said Barry, half-laughing.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s far, far away from here,” said Prue, taking a few steps back to Dave, placing her hand on the back of his neck, she squeezed gently, as she stared into Barry’s eyes with sheer harshness. “Your boy tells me you’re a man of considerable wealth. Use one of your many houses on the other side of the country. Sell this place and never return.”

“You can’t just expect me to – ah – to just up and l-leave just like that!” said Barry, his face reddening with tension.

“There is no argument here,” said Prue, reinforcing her authority over the situation by slamming her hand down on Dave’s shoulder. He yelped like a frightened pup as he desperately looked at his father to consider.

“Hmmmphhhnbbbpph!” Dave grumbled through the gag in his mouth.

Barry was clearly trying his best to remain calm, but the sheer horror of everything Prue told him was starting to weigh down on his judgement. “Alright, alright! I’ll do what you want b-but please t-take your god damn hands off my son!” he said with increasing temperament.

“Do I have your word, Mr. O’Donnell?” shouting over Dave’s whimpers. “Do you promise to leave with your son and never return?”

“Yes! Yes!” shouted Barry, exasperated and panicked. “You have my word, now please, stop this madness at once!”

Prue took her hand off Dave and everything suddenly became still and quite. She glided towards the door, each step making Barry look even more terrified as she neared him. She stopped inside the doorframe and gazed into his eyes for a few moments before opening her mouth.

“You should consider this a real bargain, Mr. O’Donnell, because if this whole scenario was done my way, Dave would be in the custody of the police right now,” she said sternly. She turned to look at Dave one last time with a glint of detestation in her eye. “If you try to pull a fast one, I’ll know right away. I expect you both out of town this time next week.”

Prue turned her back on them both and walked briskly down the hallway. The sharp night air stabbed at her bare skin as she left through the front door of the house. Still masked, her pace increased with each step until she broke into a swift run down the neighbourhood. She ran around a sharp alleyway that connected to another housing estate. There, her motorbike lay hidden in the shadows.

She pulled off her mask, tears dripping down her pale cheeks as she whipped out her mobile phone. She quickly typed out a text message with rapid force, “It’s done. They’re leaving next week. Talk to you soon. Prue,” and sent it to Charlie. Wiping her tears way with the heel of her right hand, Prue threw her leg over the bike, started it up, and took off down the alleyway at great speed into the night.

Charlie always imagined the end of his blackmail to be a glorious defeat, an unloading of all the negative feelings he carried for months, a massive relief beyond comprehension. Unfortunately, this was not the case, for when he received that text from Prue, he could not help but feel conflicted in covering everything up with one huge lie. Yes, Dave was gone from his life, but only because he was too afraid to face the consequences of his cross-dressing. Because of his fears, he had to to lie through his teeth whilst forcing an innocent man to move away because of his sons terrible actions.

“Good. Talk to you again soon. Thanks for all this again,” he replied.

She did not text back.

Despite his never-ending angst, Charlie was trying his very best to stay positive by looking to the future instead of dwelling on the past. He was well aware he was being naïve, yes, because he knew it would take a long time for his emotional baggage to lighten in weight. At least he hoped it would anyway. He thought it was bizarre how nobody but himself and Prue would know what really happened. He now carried a huge part of himself that would be kept heavily under wraps. He likened himself to a half-cooked cake, as he was not ready to unveil himself yet.

Over the course of the week, Mary, Charlie, and Rachel sat down in the living room to discuss their future as a family. Charlie and Rachel both agreed that they should let the bank repossess the house because it was putting too much stress on their mother. Mary, on the other hand, was a little apprehensive at first but she was quickly convinced otherwise, as Rachel took her through the pros and cons.

“Look Mom, at the end of the day, it’s just a house,” Rachel stated. “We can move to a smaller rental place. Think about how much stress that would take off you because, at the moment, you’re breaking your back for something that’s not worth it.”

“It is worth it!” Mary sniped. “When your father and I moved here, we agreed to raise our children in a comfortable home an –“

“Yeah but Dad’s not here anymore, Mom! It’s just the three of us!” Rachel interjected. “You have to think realistically here.”

For a moment, Charlie expected his mother to have another manic outburst. However, she just started quickly nodding like a bird, tight-lipped, and sincere. “You’re absolutely right,” she said, looking to each of her children. “This damned house could be the death of me if I keep going like this. No, yes, you’re definitely right.”

Rachel let out a sigh of relief. “Mom, you don’t realise how relieved we are to hear you say that!”

“If we go through with this, I may need to find work elsewhere,” said Mary. “I mean, I’m getting a little old for waitressing now and I’d like to have a job that’s not so hectic and fast-moving.”

“And if need be, myself and Rachel could continue our part-time jobs at the weekend when we’re not at school,” Charlie added.

“Absolutely not!” said Mary, putting her foot down. “I’m not going to have you both working during your last year of secondary school when studying for your finals is of utmost importance!”

Before Charlie could argue his point, Rachel butted in with a quick glare. “Speaking of school, Charlie, we would have to attend a new one. I mean, whichever one is closest to our new home.”

Charlie wondered why Rachel made such a point out of changing schools. He was well aware of the logistics of moving houses. He looked at her for any signs of underlying meaning but all he could find was a vague, oddly suspicious glare in her eyes. “Yes, I know,” said Charlie.

“Okay, well I just wanted you to be clear,” said Rachel, turning her attention back to Mary.

Later that evening, Charlie went upstairs to his room and dived onto his bed face down. Listening to the blood rushing through his body, he moaned into his duvet cover as he began to reflect on his thoughts. He could not believe how fast his life was changing within the space of a week. It was just a few days ago when he thought he was being kidnapped forever, and now, suddenly, he was back in his own bedroom, moaning into the comfort of his own blankets. It was surreal.

Charlie knew he owed it all to one person and he had not even thanked her yet. He rolled over onto his back, looked up at the ceiling, and began twiddling his thumbs. “Prudence Svahnstrom, who are you?” he whispered. He found it incredibly strange that he did not even know the person who saved him from Dave. He was in two minds about his rescuer. On one hand, he thought of her as a heroic, selfless, and determined woman, yet on the other, he felt a great uncertainty regarding the motives of a person who was basically a complete stranger.

I told you once you reminded me of myself. This is true because from the moment I first saw you, I felt myself reliving experiences from my past. Such feelings I hope never to experience again. I could see so much anger, pain, confusion, loneliness that it – that it made me feel vaguely responsible for you. When I sought after your blackmailer, you can rest assure that it was purely out of empathy and not for vengeance.

He suddenly remembered the overpowering sense of connection, spirit, and resonance he felt when he looked into Prue’s sad blue eyes. She seemed to genuinely care about him, which made him feel strangely loved. How could he not be thankful for what she did for him?

Charlie did not waste another moment with himself. He grabbed his phone and wrote out a text. “Hey Prue. I think we should meet up. How does this Saturday sound to you?”

Prue responded within seconds. “Cool. Meet at my place?”

Charlie hesitated for a moment, thinking of what he was about to do before replying. He only wanted to thank Prue, not engage in social interaction, yet, he felt she deserved someone to connect with on an emotional level because she seemed to be a very lonely person. However, the greater part of him wished to abandon everything that was related to his troublesome cross-dressing. Once again, he felt torn between two factions of himself.

“Sure, see you then!” he responded.

The next morning, Charlie awoke to the familiar sound of his mom’s mini-van pulling out of the driveway. He briefly opened his eyes but the weight of tiredness forced him to close them again. He felt hot and stuffy beneath the blankets so he kicked them off the bed, letting the cool, fresh air take to his practically naked body. He slept only in his boxers, as he did every summer when the climate was warmer.

The first thought to enter his mind was Dave, as it had done every morning since the very first day of his blackmail. It was constant dread, waking up each morning, to feel heavenly only for a split second before falling back down to the horrible reality in which he lived. Even though his blackmail was over, it was as if his mind was locked in an automatic habit.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling as he usually did, wondering what would become of his blackmailer. Despite everything he had done to him, Charlie still worried for Dave’s mental state. Ever since he returned home, the memory of Dave lying on the brothel floor, feminised and broken down into a pathetic mess haunted his conscience like a thousand probing daggers.

Charlie worried that Dave would do something rash after experiencing such horrors in the brothel, something unthinkable like committing suicide. He recalled all the signs of mental illness he saw during his time spent under Dave’s thumb, the delusions, the uncontrollable outbursts, his ruthlessness, and disturbingly tender side. It was all very creepy but he wondered why he could not stop thinking about it?

He climbed out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. He yawned and attempted to flush the grogginess away with a splash of water to his face. Looking into the reflection, he noticed his eyebrows were still quite thin and feminine. He sighed, dreading the continuing effort of hiding them with his fringe until they grew back. He really wanted to get his haircut. It was ridiculously long for his taste. Like every summer that came before, his brown mop-like hair lightened with blonde streaks and curled at the ends.

Feeling impulsive, he opened the cupboard beneath the sink and took out his mother’s electric shaver. He attached the appropriate shear and turned it on. The slow buzzing sound made his heart beat a little bit faster than usual as he looked into his reflection, feeling tense and a little bit excited. “No more long hair,” he said, pressing the shaver onto his head. Clumps of his soft brown hair began to fall and trickle down his back and shoulders. He did not stop until there was nothing left but a barren skull of shaved hair.

He examined his new look from different angles, noticing a few indents he got from various falls he had as a child. Overall, he looked rather sickly with his incredibly thin arms and skinny abdomen. He immediately thought about the prospect of working out to gain some much need muscle over the summer months. He knew he definitely would not be cross-dressing again so a more masculine appearance would be a great way to start the next phase of his life. He knew he would be moving away soon so he had a chance to reinvent himself and forget the past.

He took a whizz, brushed his teeth, and hopped in the shower before walking back to his room feeling fresh as a daisy. He enjoyed the feeling of having no hair. He felt lighter and more comfortable. He did not care what people would think of his eyebrows. He assumed they would not read into it too much. His hair always became fairer during the summer anyway so why should his eyebrows be any different.

Charlie put on his favourite sweat pants and jersey before going downstairs to make breakfast. Feeling an increasing weight in his chest, he started to hum a silly tune as it helped soothe the unpleasant sensation. He turned on the gas hob, placed a pan on it, and threw some oil into it, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He went to the fridge, humming louder and louder, as he took the eggs out and returned to the stove.

Cracking a single egg off the rim of the pan, Charlie watched the yolk spill out of its shell and sizzle onto the pitch-black surface of the frying pan. Suddenly, he lost control, as the weight in his chest spread to the ends of his fingers and toes. He could not breathe. Feeling dazed, he stumbled backwards into the kitchen island, knocking over several pots and pans as he grabbed onto the counter. He wanted to call for help but all air was thumped out of his lungs as his eyes moved about frantically in their sockets. He felt an unprecedented amount of terror.

Desperately grasping for air, he started to feel horrible feelings of vulnerability, hopelessness, and fear as his heart palpitated against the inside of his chest. Then, slowly, but surely, his breathing returned as the sudden attack on his body died down. He lay on the floor, back against the kitchen counter as he regained himself. He felt like he just ran a marathon through everything bad that ever happened to him.

Charlie picked himself up from the floor, turning off the hob while still feeling a little dizzy and confused. He just experienced a horrible feeling like no other and now he felt normal again as if nothing had just happened. If anything, he felt numb and hollow. Nothing was going through his mind but one thing. He needed air. Bursting through the back door, the sunshine hit him like a warm, loving embrace. His lungs filled up with fresh air and the remainder of his random attack vanished into nothingness.

He sat down on one of the deck chairs and caught the rest of his breath. Gazing into space, he felt an uneasy numbness throughout his entire body and mind. He could not concentrate on one thought so he did not bother trying. Instead, he just sat there on the chair, stuck in a trance-like state of mind as he came to terms with what just happened.

Charlie did not know how long he was lying there but he guessed it was a few hours because the sun was now high in the sky. It must have been shortly after noon. Not a cloud in the sky. He heard the backdoor slide open, followed by approaching footsteps. He did not acknowledge who it was because it could only be Rachel. Nobody else was home.

Rachel walked into his line of sight, dressed in a pink bikini top, straw summer hat, and blue, self-cut short shorts. Standing over him with two bottles of beer in her hand, Rachel looked at her brother with astonishment. “What the hell did you do to your hair?” she cried out.

“I’ll let you guess that one,” said Charlie, taking beer without saying another word, as he sat himself up in the chair, and put his hand out for the bottle opener. Rachel sat down on the chair next to him and threw him the bottle opener before curling up into a relaxing posture.

“You look like a dying child,” said Rachel, moving her loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“You look like a filthy slut,” said Charlie, not taking his eye off the fence.

“Touché,” said Rachel, uncapping her beer.

The two sat and drank in silence until their bottles were bone dry. Charlie was about to head inside to get another before Rachel told him to sit down. “I’ll get them,” she said, getting up and returning a few moments later with a cooler full of beer. Time passed by and two bottles each eventually turned into six each as loose caps scattered one-by-one around the twins’ deck chairs.

“I think Kayla is gonna absolutely hate your new choice of hairstyle,” said Rachel, speaking for the first time on her seventh bottle. “Could you even call that a hairstyle? There’s nothing left!”

“Do you think I care what Kayla thinks?” Charlie scoffed. “I can do what I want.”

“Ooh look – I’m Charlie and I do what I want! Haw haw haw!” said Rachel in a mocking voice. She was a little drunk. “Ah no – but in all seriousness, she probably won’t mention it at all because she’s in luuuuuuurve with you and when people fall in luuuuuuuurve they overlook the stupid things because they’re so in luuuuuuurrrrve!”

“You think? She’s been after me since we were kids!” said Charlie, turning to look at his sister.

“Oh get over yourself, Charlie!” Rachel jeered, ear-to-ear, as she sat up and crossed her legs in a meditative position. “You must like her at least a little bit to get with her on the night of our seventeenth!”

Charlie hated being probed on such matters. His head swimming with alcohol, he lifted his fingers to make a point but words were caught in his throat. “Maybe I like her just – just a teeny bit!” he said, slightly slurring his words.

“There you go!” said Rachel, clapping her hands. “Was that so hard to admit?”

Charlie wanted to get off subject so he responded with a soft grunt as he took another swig of his beer. There was nothing said for a few moments as the distant sound of a lawn mower carried across the warm summer breeze. It was late afternoon.

“You do realise she cares about you,” said Rachel in all honesty. “When you were gone, she worried just as much as Mom and I did. She never left our side until she knew you were safe.”

“I know she cares,” said Charlie, feeling accused of being egotistical. “But if it wasn’t for her, you and Mom never would have found out where I was while you were away at the spa.”

“And is that really a bad thing?” Rachel interjected. “Would you have preferred to keep going the way you were?”

Charlie knew he was caught out so he was lost for words. He sighed and laid back into his chair, stretching his limbs out as far as he could. “You’re right,” he said, gazing up at the sky. “I guess my shortcomings have set us on the right path for once.”

Rachel did not mean to hurt Charlie’s feelings. As a result, she could not think of anything else to say on the matter so she veered the conversation in a different direction. “Speaking of which, Kayla was telling me one of her neighbours has moved out,” said Rachel. “A particular friend of yours apparently.”

Charlie knew whom she spoke of and he tried his best not to respond too obviously as he felt Rachel was looking for some sort of reaction. “So Dave finally moved out?” he said, feigning a sense of carelessness.

“Oh so you knew he was moving away?” said Rachel, beginning to sound intrigued.

“He may have mentioned it once or twice, yes,” said Charlie, beginning to feel grilled by Rachel’s consistent prodding. “Look, Rachel, I don’t want to talk about him right now. I know it was stupid to do drugs with that psycho but can we please leave it behind us and move on?”

“Fine, fine!” said Rachel, immediately backing down. However, she continued to stare at her brother as if he was a surreal painting. Puzzled and slightly fascinated, she looked like she was trying to work him out right there in the garden. “You’re such a mystery, Charlie,” she said, lowering her shades before moving herself into a bathing position.

“Hmm,” mumbled Charlie, feeling somewhat relieved that the subject of Dave was being dropped. He reached down into the cooler to discover there was only one beer left. “Can I have this last one?”

Rachel waved her arm to signal she did not care. “You should ask Kayla out though,” she said as a cunning smile spread across her face. “She’s much better than that ginger bitch, Julie!”

“Oh, I thought we were done talking about that?” said Charlie, derisively throwing his hands up in the air.

“Nuh-uh! Not until you tell me what you’re gonna do!” Rachel heckled.

“I just don’t see the point in asking Kayla out if we’re gonna be moving away soon?” said Charlie honestly.

“Relax! We’re not moving that far away!” said Rachel, turning her head to Charlie.

“Yeah but still – I don’t have much time for girls right now,” said Charlie, feeling agitated and discomfited.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Heartbreaker,” said Rachel, exhaling deeply as she slightly readjusted herself into a more comfortable position. “But if you want this to stop, then you’re gonna have to tell Kayla instead of leading her on like this. It wouldn’t be fair to toy with her feelings.”

Charlie was beginning to feel provoked and discomforted. Annoyingly, he knew Rachel was right as always, but he tried his best to conceal his frustration, because he did not wish to grant her the satisfaction of openly agreeing with her. He exhaled deeply, feeling a cool sensation fall over his body as he took in the nice day. He still felt a little shook after his random attack earlier.

“Aren’t you going out tonight?” Charlie asked, wishing to engage only in small talk.

“I am, yes,” said Rachel, giving a stiff nod. “I’m going to Blake’s house. His parents are out of town for a few days so he’s having a massive house party.”

“Oh this is the drinks connoisseur from our birthday?” said Charlie in his most sardonic tone.

“Yep, that’s him,” Rachel chuckled. “It’s gonna be an AMAZING night. You should totally come along.”

“Nah, I don’t go in for house parties very much,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “You know me.”

Rachel was about to respond, but instead, she closed her mouth, and said nothing more. She stared up at the wisps of cloud blissfully floating about in the bright blue sky. Her eyes shrouded in the blackness of her sunglasses, she picked up her beer and downed the last of it.

Suddenly feeling an uncomfortable stillness, Charlie sat up and looked at Rachel with concern as he immediately sensed she was feeling troubled. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You see, that’s the problem right there,” said Rachel in a grave tone of voice. “I don’t think I know you at all.”

“Well that’s hardly melodramatic!” said Charlie sarcastically. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course you know me. I’m your brother for god’s sake!”

“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re hiding something massive from me,” said Rachel, constraining herself from getting emotional. “Call it twin intuition or whatever but I feel like there’s so much more to you than you let on.”

Charlie could feel panic rising up from within his stomach as it lurched over with a wave of nerves. He worried about the direction the conversation was headed. Seemingly lost for words, his mouth dried up, and his leg started to jitter. “To be honest, Rachel, I’m not even sure what’s going on inside me either,” he said, solemnly speaking of the truth in his heart.

Rachel sat up and removed her shades, looking hopeful of Charlie finally opening up to her. “What do you mean?”

“Something’s different about me but -,” said Charlie, stalling to articulate himself clearly, “– but I can’t quite grasp what it is yet. I feel like I’m not the person I should be, which I know sounds crazy, but – look, do you get what saying here?”

“No, I totally do,” said Rachel.

Charlie knew Rachel was feigning consideration in an attempt to make him feel less lonely but he did not hold it against her. He knew she was pretending to understand because she cared about him. “The thing is, I just need to figure things out for myself first before I can get close to talking, okay? It’s nothing to do with you or Mom or anyone else. It’s just something I need to explore on my own.”

“Okay, I get you. You need to find out what’s bothering you before talking. It’s cool,” said Rachel, nodding back and forth. “But can you promise me one thing, Charlie?”

“Sure.”

“If you ever need to talk about anything, no matter how big, small, awkward, or embarrassing, just remember that I will always be here for you no matter what,” said Rachel, leaning over her chair to get closer to him. “Not only am I your sister, but I’m also your twin as you are to me, we should connect like that, so promise that you’ll talk to me when the time comes.”

“Rachel, you’re getting all sentimental because of the alcohol again!” Charlie joked.

“I’m being serious, Charlie!” said Rachel with utter sincerity. “Promise me now!”

Charlie looked into Rachel’s eyes for the first time in what felt like an age. “Okay, uh, I promise,” he said softly.

“Good!” said Rachel, straining as she lifted herself up out of the deck chair. “Now, I’m going to make some dinner. Do you want some?”

“Sure, that sounds good, but be careful with the stove. You’ve been drinking, remember?” said Charlie.

“Like I’d forget,” said Rachel as she walked back into the house.

Charlie was alone with his thoughts once again and the only thing running through his mind was something Prue had said just a few days ago, something that was very similar to the conversation he just had with Rachel.

I need to know if you can disallow these horrible experiences and secrets to burden you for the rest of your life. You can’t hide these things forever. I understand you can’t reveal yourself yet but you need to tell someone close to you when you feel it’s right. I’m not asking you to make a promise for me but please, please promise yourself. Find trust to tell somebody what you feel is necessary and righteous, because in the end, family is all you have.

For the first time, he felt completely confident in telling Rachel the absolute truth about everything. However, he chose to remain tight-lipped, as he had no desire to twist the knife further into his recovering wounds. He felt as if he wanted to move forwards instead of backwards because there were definitely repressed memories from when he was drugged and kidnapped. He wished to forget and move on from what happened so he felt there was no need to reopen the horror story that had only just concluded.

As Charlie sat back, relaxed, and reflected upon the past few months, he could not help but marvel at how crazy his life became. Prior to trying on the infamous school uniform, he had lived a relatively normal existence. He went to school, hung out with his friends, did his homework, and had a moderately healthy family life. He never expected to be dressing up like his sister to please her ex-boyfriends crazed delusions.

Mary arrived home with the usual bang of the front door shortly after Rachel had started to make the dinner. Charlie remained in the back garden, staring intently at the slightly darkening sky as his head swam under the influence of beer. He was unsure of how long he was sitting there but time seemed to coast by him like a car zooming by fields. His mother and sister soon joined him, sitting on deck chairs either side of him with dinner plates of chicken curry and rice resting on their laps.

“Here you, child,” said Rachel, handing Charlie a plate of his own. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Charlie smiled as he took the plate into his hands. “Thanks, Rach.”

Still in her work uniform, Mary eased herself into her chair so she would not rip her tight skirt. She then kicked off her heels and let out a deep sigh of relief. “Ahhhhh, that’s much better!” she exhaled, blissfully closing her eyes as she basked in the warm evening light.

Digging into his dinner, Charlie looked at his mother and sister through the corner of his eyes, and tried his best to remain calm because he felt something he had not experienced in a long time.

That feeling was contentment.

Prue awoke to the sound of heavy snoring and the weight of a large fat arm thrown over her. Wiping the sleep away from her eyes, she exhaled deeply, and looked over her shoulder at the large flabby man whom had paid to sleep with her for the entire night. She wretched with disgust as she accidently caught whiff of the man’s breath, which made her feel as if she was going to vomit any second.

She carefully removed herself from the man’s embrace and climbed out of the bed. Completely naked from head to toe, Prue tussled her blue hair as she stood up and gathered her clothes, which were scattered amongst the empty liquor bottles around the bedside. She walked to the ensuite bathroom, closed to the door behind her, and began rummaging through her large purple handbag. Out she pulled her morning after kit, which contained a hairbrush, toothbrush, and baby wipes.

Looking to the mirror, she hesitated for a brief moment, as she always did each time her reflection fell upon her sight. Although, she was an attractive woman all round, particularly for someone who was born in a male body and had SRS, there was still one thing she absolutely hated about herself, and it concerned a particular organ that remained between her two legs. She sighed, feeling self-conscious yet hopeful.

“Soon, Prue,” she said to reflection. “It’ll be alright.”

She brushed her hair and cleansed her mouth of the night’s events with her toothbrush and paste. She tucked her loathsome member back into her body as she pulled up her black panties. Encasing her breasts in a matching bra, she clasped the hooks together over the tattoo that sprawled across her back. It was a design of floral shapes, Japanese calligraphy, and cobwebs that stretched from her right shoulder blade down to her lower left waist.

She then picked up her white halter-necked top and put her head through the hoop. It was quite a flimsy garment as it revealed quite a lot of her back, arms, and some cleavage, but in the end, it was the appropriate attire for her night work. She put her legs inside her plain black leather mini skirt, and shuffled her way into it, as it was very tight before zipping it up from the rear.

After cleaning her face of all the smudged makeup, she took out a pair of black flats, and threw her brush, wipes, and heels back into her handbag. She quickly counted the money she was given by her customer for the night. She could only wish that it were all for her, but unfortunately, others had to be paid first before she could even hope to hold any kind of cash to her name.

Prue left the bathroom and put on her tanned trench coat to cover up her rather risqué outfit. She double-checked to make sure she had everything important in her bag, which included her keys, phone, purse, and cigarettes. She was about to leave for the door when the man in the bed let out a surly groan. Like a stunned deer caught in headlights, she froze as she watched the man roll over before snoring again.

Relieved, Prue tiptoed towards the exit. Carefully turning the key in the lock, she slowly opened the door, which flooded the room with the ambient sounds of the harsh neighbourhood outside. She quickly slid out the door and briskly walked down the line of motel room doors. She hurried down the stairs, across the car park, and hailed down the first taxi she saw on the main road.

“Upper Berkley Street, please,” she said to the cab driver who responded only with tiresome grunt.

Prue put on her stylish sunglasses as the bright morning light beamed through the gaps of the decaying urban landscape. Despite her woeful existence, she could not help but feel a slight touch of optimism as she took out of phone and reread the text Charlie had sent her a few days ago. “Hey Prue. I think we should meet up. How does this Saturday sound to you?” Today was Saturday, and Prue was looking forward to spending some time with a person who was not a client. She even took the day off from her part-time job at Sweet Sensations Costume House.

It did not long for the cab to reach Upper Berkley Street. Prue paid the fare, climbed out the cab, and awkwardly shuffled across the street as she wedged her heels back into her flats. She moseyed on down the street towards her apartment, abruptly stopping in her tracks for an instant, as a sudden thought popped into her mind like the switch of a light bulb.

Prue turned around, vigorously strolling up the street to the corner store. She entered the shop that was a cross between a minimart and a newsagent mixed with an Indian flare. Walking to the frozen and refrigerated section, she started to hum the song that was playing in the taxi. She picked up a small chocolate cake, examined it as if it were an alien object before sighing, and making her way to the counter.

Prue arrived back at her tiny apartment, flushed and exhausted, as she always was when she got home after a nights work. Placing the cake inside her old, fifties-style refrigerator, she continued to hum as she took off her coat and walked to the bathroom. She emerged from the shower about ten minutes later with a towel wrapped around her body. Sitting on the bed, she blow-dried her hair, as she quickly looked at the digital clock on the locker. It was 13:43 pm. She knew Charlie would be arriving soon.

She put on a dark pair of knickers and a white satin bra, ribbon in the centre, with lace trimmings around the edges. She then slipped into a pair of soft, black leggings that hugged her legs snugly before putting on a shoulder-less black and white striped sweater.

Prue then proceeded to clean up her sprawl of an apartment. Firstly, she rearranged the stacks of cardboard boxes more tidily, de-cluttered the living space, bedroom, and kitchen, followed by cleaning all the dishes, sweeping the floors, throwing dirty clothes into the laundry, and cleaning all surfaces with a cloth and spray bottle. When she was done, she collapsed onto her bed and stretched herself out like a cat.

Feeling the weight of her eyelids close on her, she started to breathe heavily through her nose as she gradually drifted into a cosy slumber. It was then that the apartment started to tremor and shake as a train thundered past the window, carriages clashing, and banging on the elevated track until it vanished into the distance, screeching around the far-off bend until everything fell quiet again.

Prue awoke from her brief snooze, looking rather irritated by the loud noise that woke her up. She never got used to living beside a busy train route and she doubted she ever would. Rolling out of bed, she teetered to the kettle, and made herself a black coffee. She sat at the small kitchen table, nursing her coffee whilst staring at the door, expecting to hear a knock at any moment.

When she finished her coffee, Prue checked the time on her cell phone once again. It was 16:23 pm. She made herself another cup in a desperate attempt to stay alert but no amount of caffeine could clear the fogginess. She sat at the kitchen table for what seemed like an age, eventually, crossing her arms on the tabletop to rest her chin on them as she observed the tiny cracks in the coffee mug. It was now 18:03 pm.

Ultimately, she dozed off but was awoken by her cell vibrating its way across the table. She lifted her head up, drool protruding from the corner of her mouth as she grabbed her phone, and answered.

“H-Hello?” she said, wiping her mouth clean as she stood up.

“Hey, Prue. It’s me, Charlie.”

“Oh hey -,” said Prue, pretending to sound nonchalant. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” said Charlie, pausing for a moment. In the background, a hectic noise rattled that sounded like the subway. “Hey look, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it over today.”

“Oh,” said Prue, trying her best to conceal her disappointment. “Um, that’s okay ‘cause I’ve got a couple of things I should get done anyway.”

There was a flash of silence.

“Yeah, well, um, I just wanted to say a few things so I may as well do it now over the phone,” said Charlie.

“Okay,” said Prue, walking over to her bedside to sit down. “I’m listening.”

“Well, first of all, I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. If it wasn’t for you, well, I wouldn’t be home with Mom and Rachel,” said Charlie candidly. “I would’ve been a goner by now if you didn’t saved me.”

Prue smiled, feeling genuine warmth in her heart. “You don’t have to thank me, Charlie,” she said, unable to control her beaming smile. “You and I both know that I wanted to help you from the very start.”

“And I’m truly grateful,” Charlie added, leaving everything to a comfortable pause for a few moments. It was as if they were together in the same room. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the last day. You know that stuff about opening up to someone close?”

“Hmm, it sounds like you’ve come to some sort of a conclusion there,” said Prue, strolling from one end of the apartment to the other.

Charlie laughed. “I can’t say I’ve fully come to terms with everything that happened to me but uh – but I feel like I’m on the right path for once,” he said, his tone dropping. “Even though I want to leave all of this behind me, talking about my issues doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. I guess that doesn’t make any sense, does it?"

“No, uh, that makes perfect sense,” said Prue, trying her best to reassure Charlie even though she had no idea what he meant. She walked to the kitchen area and fiddled with the saltshaker on the table, wishing to break the awkward silence by continuing the conversation. “So, um, what’s your plan for the future then?”

Charlie sighed. “Uh, I’m not sure exactly,” he said earnestly. “I’m just enjoying the view of having future, you know, because for a long time there, it felt like there was none.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Prue, playfully strolling back to her bed.

Again, there was the awkward telephone stillness in between sentences.

“But hey – I – I wish I could’ve thanked to you in person like I planned but, uh, it’s just I’m kind of busy at the moment,” said Charlie, sounding as if he was trying his best to kill the awkwardness.

“No, it’s fine!” said Prue reassuringly as she sat down on the bed. “We’re all busy people. Things have to be done.”

“Okay, well, thanks again for everything, Prue,” said Charlie. “I’ll never forget what you did.”

“It’s no problem, Charlie. Really, it isn’t,” said Prue, using her free hand to play with a dangling lock of hair. She could sense the phone call was ending at any moment. She desperately wanted to get her word in before Charlie hung up.

“Goodbye, Prue,” said Charlie. “Hopefully I’ll see you again in the future.”

“Well, maybe we could meet up sometime. You know – for drinks or something like – hello – hello, are you still -,”

Looking at the phone, Prue’s heart sank to see her call had ended, and Charlie’s name no longer filled the screen. Unfortunately, he had hung up before she could make her suggestion. She put the phone down, feeling crushed and disappointed. She could not help but sense an air of finality in Charlie’s words, as if he was planning to never see her again in spite of everything.

So Prue sat quietly on her bedside, staring into space, as she felt the cold stab of loneliness twist her wounds open. Suddenly, her apartment did not feel so small to her.

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Charlie was travelling across the city by train. He was dressed rather boyishly in a black letterman jacket with dark grey sleeves. Beneath that, he wore a charcoal woven shirt with vertical black stripes, top two buttons open. On his legs were slim black chinos and a pair of ratty old converse all stars. He also wore a baseball cap on his shaved head. This was not the same Charlie.

He gazed out the window, enjoying the wonderful view of the sun setting below the cityscape. He was travelling way out of town to the greater urban area, far, far away from his own house. He felt sure of himself for once, hopeful, and less apprehensive about what could happen in the next ten minutes. He felt better for ringing Prue, even if he did not realise he unwittingly hurt her feelings but he knew he could not leave her hanging after everything she did for him.

The train soon came to a halt outside a small station. It took Charlie a few moments to realise that it was his stop for he was completely lost within a world of his own. Leaping to his feet, he exited the train doors right before they closed shut. He looked up and down the platform to see that he was the only passenger getting off at the practically deserted station.

He walked down the stairs, feeling the rush of the train take off down the track as he took out his phone. It was not too late. There were still a few hours of light left. Strolling through the quite neighbourhood, he crossed the road, and went towards a gate that led into a tree-sheltered park. The birds still tweeted and whistled in the green as he moseyed on down the dirt path, occasionally looking up at the light streaming through the gaps of the branches and breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass.

Charlie continued walking for a short while until he came to a flight of concrete steps, and it was then that he saw Kayla, her thick brown hair covering her face as she leaned against the handrail, aimlessly playing with her smart phone. She was waiting for him and it made him feel warm inside. He could not remember the last time a girl patiently waited for him.

Standing at the bottom step, Charlie took a moment to look upon her. She was dressed fashionably as always, sporting a white boat-necked t-shirt with horizontal black stripes, tucked neatly into a black pleated skater skirt, which presented her tight covered legs in awe. A large leather handbag hung from her shoulder, clenched firmly inside her arm, as she twisted each of her feet, which were clad with mocha wedge booties.

Charlie never imagined that he would look upon Kayla with such aspiration and wonderment. A strange and unexpected feeling welled up inside his chest. He suddenly felt stronger and weaker at the same time, almost excited yet equally terrified as he gazed upon her with a different kind of optimism. Somehow, being there in that very moment, he knew everything was going to be just fine. He felt it. He knew it.