I've been lurking on BigCloset for years. It helped me figure a lot of things out about myself and gave me a place to escape to when things in the real world were just a little too much. Hopefully I can help contribute to the wonderful work on this site! Apologies for any grammar mistakes, difficulty reading, etc. Again, this is my first time really writing out a story. All feedback and criticisms are welcome and appreciated! That being said, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1:

I don't think there's an 11 year old in the whole world that could last through one of our church's Sunday sermons. Dad keeps insisting that I should stay awake cause I'll learn something from them. Yeah, sure.

But that's how I found myself asleep and having the same dream I'd had about a bazillion times before.

Somehow it always made me feel just as scared.

I sat in my seat frozen stiff while waiting for everyone to start looking at me. To laugh, and sneer, and preach the gospel. I could feel a cold sweat dripping down my back while I stared at my feet. I knew it was coming but there was nothing I could do, so I just waited, and waited, and waited.

Nothing happened. Well apart from me catching a bit of a chill. That was odd. Both the lack of pandemonium and the cold. I'd never felt cold in a dream before.

Finally I got the nerve to look up and again there was nothing. Not a soul was looking in my direction. Here I was, a boy whose Sunday best had been replaced by a yellow short sleeved dress, with a flowery belt and Mary Jane's poking out from the lacey hem of my outfit. And there wasn't a peep!

I peeped quite loudly though when I looked to my left and saw my dad. His outfit looked strange with its long loose sleeves, but it was still, I was sure, a dress. He gave me a stern look and shushed me before turning his attention back to the sermon. Was he wearing lipstick?

In a complete state of shock I faced forward again. Looking closer at my surroundings, with the fear shoved right out of me by surprise, I finally began to notice that we weren't the only weirdos dressed up like this. I couldn't quite tell for everyone but it seemed like every man and boy here was dressed the same, in differently styled conservative little dresses. And all the women were dressed in suits with short hair or with it pulled back into tight ponytails. No wait, those were men with the ponytails. Actually it seemed like all of the women had short hair! And looking up to the preacher I realized with another start that Father Fritzgerald was replaced by a woman who I think was his wife, but it was hard to tell with the clothing and hair changed, and her normally soft face twisted as she gave a passionate talk on the dangers of worldly temptation.

It was hard for me to really pay any attention though. I was too busy looking all around me. Not just the people, but some of the church had changed too. Even Jesus had disappeared and replaced by some topless woman nailed up to the cross. I felt like my head was going to pop. What kind of dream was this?

I was broken from my whirlpool of confusion, head whipping back and forth chasing a tickling feeling on the back of my neck, when a firm hand shook my right shoulder.

"C’mon pumpkin, it's time to go. You must've really enjoyed Mother Fitzgerald's sermon today. I've never seen you so focused before."
My mother said with a smile as she got to her feet. She wasn't wearing a hint of makeup. Now I know I must be dreaming. She never left the house without makeup, she said she felt naked without it! Maybe I ate something weird for breakfast that sent me into a coma like on some TV drama or something? Is that why this dream feels so real?

"I don't know about that dear. His eyes seemed to be wandering everywhere else except Mother Fitzgerald. And don't make excuses for him Betty." My dad responded, giving me another stern look and mom a wag of his finger. A mom wag from my dad. What is going on?

I stood up at my mother's urging and followed in stunned silence as we filed out of our pew.

My mother stepped up beside my father, placing an arm around his waist as she rested her head on his shoulder, her short brunette hair making dad’s blonde bun look even brighter.

"Yes, yes honey, I know, I coddle him too much. But what’s wrong with a lady treating her boys nicely? And besides, we both know that it's a huge improvement over falling asleep like he normally does."

With a sigh my father nodded his head and looked back at me with a softer expression. "True, maybe he's finally growing up a bit."

"Well he better not grow up too fast." mom said with a small grin as she looked back at me too. "I don't want to have to start fending off girlfriends left and right quite yet.'

"Mommmm." I finally spoke up.

Well, ok, I whined. But at least I'd recovered enough to make some noise again.

"Especially as handsome as he is already, I'm sure we'll have our hands full." dad agreed.

I felt my cheeks burning lightly. What kind of girl would want to date a boy in a dress?

My mom answered that question as she patted dad's butt and said "He gets it from you sweetie. I've got two of the most handsome men in the world."

I think my dad blushed at the compliment but it was hard to tell because my vision was yanked up skyward before I could really get a look. I let out a yelp and grabbed at my hair, which I only now realized had been that annoying thing that I felt brushing against my neck. It felt like it was down past my shoulders at the very least.

"Sally Margaret Washington! Apologize this instant!" I heard a man yell. Turning around I saw another familiarly unfamiliar face. I'd seen Sally a few times at church but we hadn't ever really talked much, cause she’s a girl and two whole years younger than me. Just like everyone else her clothes had been swapped around. Instead of her usual dress and long braids she sported a crew cut and a one of those awfully uncomfortable kids suits with a little bow tie and everything. It actually kind of looked good on her. She didn’t look like a boy, but she also didn’t just look like a girl in a random ill-fitting suit either.

The mischievous little grin dropped from her face as she turned to look at her dad and whined "I didn't do anything!"

Her father grabbed her by the ear and held it taut, causing her to wince a bit and straighten up to relieve some of the pulling

"Don’t you lie to me missy! I watched you pull this nice boy's hair like it was a lamp cord. Now apologize or you can forget about riding your bike for the rest of the week."

"But it's Sunday!"

"That's right and with God as my witness you won't be riding that blasted thing for 7 whole days." He said firmly, releasing her ear and pushing her a step towards me

I always thought she wasn’t much of a trouble maker or anything. She seemed pretty nice and quiet at church before. But it didn’t seem like this was the first time she’d gotten in trouble like this from how quick she was to give up on trying to weasel out of it. Her dad must've taken her bike away enough times for her to know he was serious.

Sally looked as if she had a sour taste in her mouth and looked down at the ground but managed to mumble out her apology.

"Sorry for grabbing your hair Eric. I shouldn't have done that."

She cast a quick glance to her father and added.

"It was mean and I won't do it again. Sorry."

Her father smiled a bit and looked at me expectantly. From behind I could hear my dad put in his own opinion.

"That was a nice little apology Eric, don't you think?"

Personally I thought it would be nicer if peoplr didn't grab my hair at all. I knew that what I thought didn’t matter though, just like it didn’t for her. So I just nodded and gripped the fabric of my dress a bit in a failed attempt to slide my hands into my pockets. I settled on clasping them in front of my waist instead.

"Yeah uh, I forgive you Sally."

The words had barely left my mouth before she dashed off, running out of the parking lot to join some other girls playing on the grass nearby.

Her dad sighed and gave my parents a very tired looking smile before quickly walking after Sally.

"Sally Washington! Do not get your suit covered in mud again!'

I just watched in awe as the frilly church girls I once vaguely knew shoved and tussled each other on the field, chasing after a soccer ball, without a single boy in sight. The longer this went on, the less I thought it could be a dream. But things just kept getting weirder and weirder. I brought a hand back up to my hair. The newly acquired length was going to be a big distraction. At least until I woke up.

"He really has his hands full with that girl." Said dad as we resumed our walk to the car.

"Yeah, it's a shame what happened to Amanda last year, but at least Sally is coping well."

My mom noticed me toying with my hair and reached a hand down to gently pat my head.

"Don't worry sweetie pie, I don't think she was trying to be mean on purpose. Girls just get a little weird when they like a boy."

"Girls are always weird." I said reflexively.

"Good, just keep thinking that." She replied with a laugh as my dad rolled his eyes.

Even that was different from what I’d expect. Normally I was supposed to get scolded for saying things like that about girls or they’d be telling me I’d “think different soon enough.”. These people sounded like my parents and looked like them (at least their faces did) but everything else was totally off. What's next? Are they going to tell me I have to eat all my ice cream if I want to have lima beans for dessert tonight? Or tell me to pile into a clown car so we can get to work at the circus?

I must be like one of those people that can see the future or something. Mom pulled some keys out of her pants pockets and with a small honk the car next to us unlocked. My eyes widened a little bit as I took it in. Our old car wasn’t rusty junk or anything, although dad used to whine a bit about how hard it was for him to change the oil. But this thing was amazing, shiny and new and styled kind of weirdly. It was like everything else in this dream, just plain different. Now that I was paying attention again I realized that none of the cars in the parking lot looked familiar. The designs were off and even the logos on them were different. Things were just normal enough that I could tell ours was a slightly better car, but just weird enough to completely confuse me. It wasn’t exactly a clown car but maybe there was some hope for the ice cream dinner.

Mom walked ahead and pulled the back door open, gesturing me forward. Wait, how do I get into a car with a dress? Wasn’t there some special way mom always did it. I couldn’t remember, I’d never paid enough attention before, although I knew if I didn’t do it right then everyone would see my underwear.

My hesitation worked out fine in the end though. Mom just picked me up with a small grunt and plopped me down into the back seat and gave my dress a quick tug to pull it straight before kissing my forehead.

“Yup, looks like he’ll be our little boy for a bit longer.” she said happily as she closed my door and opened the front passenger door for my dad.

He grabbed onto her for support, turned sideways and sat down. I’d have to try and remember that.

“He’ll stay that way if y-” mom closed the door before he could finish which dad sure didn’t seem to like. He waited for her to walk around and get into the car and pointed a finger at him.

“What was that about, Bethany?” He demanded

“You’re just in such a rush to make him grow up! There’s nothing wrong with spoiling my little boy for a bit longer. I just don’t know why you have to act like this all the time.” She grumbled loudly while strapping in her seatbelt.

“You know exactly why I feel this way Bethany. He’s my little boy too, and-and you know how worried-”
Mom finally looked at dad when he went silent and saw that he had started to cry a bit. She reached out a hand and took one of his, giving it a kiss as she started up the car. She gave a worried look back to me through the rearview mirror and started pulling out of our parking spot before taking dad’s hand again, only keeping one of them on the wheel.

I just laid my head back, closed my eyes, and tried not to cry myself. This was way too weird, it was getting scary, not like the nightmares I had before but in a different way. If I fall asleep in the car then maybe I’ll be able to wake up in my bed and this messed up dream will finally be over.

Extra: Eliza Jordan, author of The Suffocation of the Father, used hysteria as an explanation for mysterious medical occurrences in prepubescent young men. She supposed that the hysteria caused by the "wandering" of the yet to emerge Adam's apple around the body was the source of witchcraft, and often presided in witchcraft-related trials as an expert on the subject. The Suffocation of the Father connected the phenomenon of hysteria with actions like singing, laughing, crying, and choking.