Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd

Casey Church is a normal 13 year old girl, full of hopes and dreams and fears and anxieties. But in a world where there hasn’t been a girl born in over a century, what is normal?

Chapter 11.

The day started out somber. After roll call we were all sent to the auditorium. The Principal read a statement from the police and from the family. Everyone just sort of went through the motions the rest of the day, too stunned and shocked to do much. I sat near DeShaun in home economics, and let him know that I was there for him with little smiles and nods.

The autopsies had not been completed yet, of course. But the official story behind the deaths was that it had been a murder-suicide. The twins had indeed come into the rut, and ended up attracted to each other. Due to the testosterone madness, the rutting turned violent as they fought to get away from each other. It was not revealed which twin had done it, but in the heightened state, one had beaten the other so severely that he had broken his neck. In remorse, the surviving brother had taken his belt and hung himself from the underside of the bleachers.

I was worried for DeShaun. There was supposed to have been a practice today, in preparation for the game tomorrow. The school had contacted Hopkins High, who had offered to allow them to reschedule, but I think that the coach and Principal Lewis felt that the boys would have wanted the game to go on. I wasn’t so sure about that, but what did I know?

The school day finally came to a close, but for me the torture was just beginning. I stuffed my books into my bag, and slung it over my shoulder. I walked out to the parking lot, and say the flock of kids gathered, admiring mom’s cayenne. I’m sure that some of the boys were admiring the woman standing beside it a lot more. I silently growled, that irrational resentment that I felt over mom’s looks. It wasn’t fair to her, I loved her. But some new part of me buried deep down saw her as competition. I slumped my shoulders and walked forward, hating myself all the way to the car.

I looked at Mom and started to cry. She reached over carefully and patted my knee, letting me know everything was alright.

We reached the Doctor’s office and went in, the wait seemed excruciating, I looked at the sparse choices of magazines, and with a sigh, picked up a copy of Ranger Rick to flip through. After the third time, I heard my name called. Mom remained sitting, and Nurse Betty took me back to the examination room. She drew more blood, and did the usual blood pressure and temperature checks.

After a minute or so, Doctor Foster came in. He instructed me to change into the usual paper robe behind the curtain. I came out and obediently stood in front of the growth chart. Doctor Foster looked it over. After some barely audible mumbles, He announced the verdict.

“You are 5’6 7/8” inches, you have shrunk in the last week.”, He said.

Next was the weigh-in. I learned that I had dropped to 153 Lbs, I had lost 9 pounds in a week, despite the extra servings and helpings. I sighed and looked down, dejectedly.

Nurse Betty came in and handed Doctor Foster a piece of paper. He looked over it intently. After a moment, he looked up and cast his gaze my direction.

“From the results of your blood test, I can confirm that your DNA has completed the change-over, and you are now completely genetically female. The physical changes will take much longer, of course. Have you noticed any signs or indications?”, he inquired.

“Well, my eyelashes have grown. My eyes are darker. I noticed that my arm and leg hair is lighter, and some of it has fallen out. Then there’s my chest...” I said, with a huge sigh.

The Doctor motioned for me to lower the gown in front. I did so reluctantly, and he examined my breasts. The poking and prodding sensation felt strange, and to be totally honest, not entirely a bad strange. I mentally chided myself for that.

“It does appear that your breast tissue is beginning to bud, and there are clear signs that your nipples and areoli are beginning to increase in size.” Doctor Foster stepped back and looked at me. “With your permission, I would like to examine your testicles and penis for signs of change”.

I nodded and slowly peeled the gown away, and sat up on the exam bed. I looked away and thought of baseball and other distractions, not that I needed to worry. I had discovered that after that wonderful Sunday with Janie, I couldn’t get erect anymore. So while the doctor palpated my testicles and measured things, I pondered how unfair life was.

After he finished, he had several questions. I explained that I hadn’t noticed any shrinkage. He nodded and gave me the numbers. I actually had shrunk from my own self-measurement, down to 6 7/8”, I felt a tear trace it’s way down my cheek.

The doctor instructed me to recline on the medical bed. “Next I’m going to take an ultrasound, so we can get an idea of how things are developing. Generally the reproductive system it the thing that takes the longest to develop and reach maturity. This will give us an indication of where you are in the process. The fact that your testes haven’t retracted indicates that they haven’t yet begun their transformation”.

Calling Nurse Betty in, he spread some cold gel over my pelvis and rand a wand over it. There was silence, and I heard him make some barely audible “hmmm’s”.

“Okay Casey, see this little shadow here?”, he said indicating a dark spot on the screen.

I looked over and nodded, uncertainly. That is what remains of your prostate gland. It appears to have begun to have begun it’s change”.

I looked at him, scared. “Wh... what’s that mean, exactly?”, I stammered.

He looked at me and gently dropped the killing blow on my last shreds of masculinity. “That’s what is going to become your uterus”.

I was in full-on tears at that point, and Nurse Betty was gently holding my hand. It reassured me a tiny bit, but not enough.

After the exam was complete, I was given privacy to change. Doctor Foster knocked on the door and asked if I had any questions.

I hesitated, “I… I can’t get it up any more”, I said in as quiet a voice as I could. The doctor looked at me sympathetically.

“Right now your body is in a tug of war with itself, the estrogen is increasing in production, while your body is still trying to produce testosterone. With this hormonal issue, and the physical changes going on with your penis, you will experience impotence and lack of sexual desire. Don’t worry, as your body continues to transition into it’s new form, your libido will return.”, he stated gently to me.

I sighed and nodded.

“Any other questions?”, I shook my head and he led me out to the waiting room.

Mom stood up, put down the magazine she was reading, and came over. The doctor handed her several papers. “Mrs. Church. I have prescribed a prescription for estrogen and progesterone, taken orally once a day. This should help with the hormonal imbalance, as well as aid in speeding up the process slightly.”, he stated.

I saw Mom raise her eyebrow, but the meaning was lost on me.

Mom and I walked out to the car, and I turned and looked at her. “Mom, when Doctor Foster mentioned the pills, I saw the look on your face. Is there a problem?”, I asked.

Mom smiled slightly and tussled my hair. “I’m sure he stated it that way to avoid scaring you or causing a panic...” she said.

“But?”, I asked quickly. Mom seemed hesitant, I was scared, and I really wanted to know what was going on.

She looked at me and took a deep breath. “What he just prescribed for you, those pills… those are birth control pills”, she explained with a somewhat pained look on her face.

I shuddered. Sure they had been prescribed for other purposes, but the fact I was growing a womb, I’d be taking birth control, and I was impotent all hit me at once. I broke out into a massive crying fit in the parking lot. Mom hugged me until I calmed down enough to find my way back to my feet.

The drive home was quiet. I was too shocked to speak, and I’m sure mom was at a loss for words.

Upon reaching the house, I ran up the stairs to my room, slammed the door, and collapsed on the bed.

I laid there sobbing for a couple hours. Mom knocked softly on the door. I heard her muffled voice,“I left a sandwich and some salad in the fridge, if you feel like eating”.

Eventually I roused myself out of my depression enough to finish the little bit of homework I had. I picked up my phone, and looked through my missed calls and texts. I had had my phone on silent at the clinic, and missed calls from DeShaun and Janie. I rolled over and stared at the screen. Did I want to talk to them? I just didn’t know.

Hesitating, I hit the ‘call back’ tab on one of the missed calls. Janie picked up immediately. “Casey! I was so worried!” Obviously she had already known that the confirmation would be that DeShaun’s enzymes had done their job, but I ruefully played it off.

“Congratulations, it’s a girl!”, I said, mimicking one of those strange TV sci-fi shows that was based in a world where there had been no event.

She didn’t find it too amusing, but she spoke reassuringly to me, and she related to me the story of her first check-up, and the news that she was going to become the beautiful girl that I loved so deeply. I listened to her talk about the exam, and her reaction. She had taken it much worse than I did. I understood, my rut had been traumatic, but hers was many, many times worse.

She had to be put in restraints after the news, and she had been placed on a 72-hour psychiatric hold, for fear that she would try to kill herself again. It certainly didn’t help that she had been shipped off to
a place where she was without her parents for support. We talked for two hours, and by the end I was laughing and smiling again.

It was nearly bedtime, but I called DeShaun and told him all about the appointment. He got quiet, and then apologized again and again. I sighed and told him that what was done can’t be fixed, but that he’s forgiven. I promised to go to the game and cheer him on, and that I would see him tomorrow. I blew him a kiss into the phone, and hung up with him.

In my pajamas, I crept downstairs and found mom on the couch, looking through baby pictures. I slid onto the couch beside her, and looked at all the photos, Her holding me in the hospital, Mom and Dad taking me home, My first birthday (apparently I had face-planted into the cake, as my face was covered in chocolate), my first Christmas, first steps, first bike, first day of school. I snuggled in and lay beside her. I don’t know when I drifted off, but I did. I didn’t even wake when Mom carried me up to my room and put me to bed. I slept soundly and peacefully that night, no nightmares or disturbing dreams for the first time in a long time.

I ADORE comments. Drop your questions, comments, and concerns please.