As I sit and watch the thunderstorm’s fury unleashed on the city I realize that my life reflects the activity of the storm. I sit here in my friend’s garage shut away from the world hiding from my past. I can’t believe that people can be so cruel and heartless. Well maybe I can’t accuse the whole world of being cruel as I have at least two friends.
I don’t really understand why people have to be so mean when they find out someone is different. Let me go back to the beginning, as it seems that I need to get this burden off my chest.
When I was in elementary school, I was different from the other boys and I was ridiculed for it. I didn’t have the stamina that others had. I always found it easier to sit and read novels than play football, soccer or other rough sports. When I did try to join in those sports I always got hurt. There was one time where I was dazed by a football hitting me in the temple. Yeah I know it could have been worse but my glasses took the brunt of the hit, yet I still wound up with a minor concussion. After that, I decided to stay as far away from the other boys as I could. That decision of mine doomed the rest of my school days. Somehow, I got lucky and never got beat up too badly in school. During breaks, that is a different story and I will talk about that later.
I was an easy target and everyone else used me as such. The teachers were clueless as to what went on as I learned to bottle my emotions at an early age, and didn’t let anyone get too close as I knew they would just want to use me for their needs and toss me to the side when it was suitable for them. I can count the true friends I had in school on one hand, wait I don’t even need that. The truth is I had none until my last year of junior high where I met someone who saw me for who I was, not their conceived idea as to who I should be. Granted both of us were loners in school, we both had emotional baggage that could probably fill a three-bedroom house if it were tangible. I got depressed and suicidal before my parents realized something was seriously wrong, however they never acted on anything. Yes, I will admit I attempted it, but it only made me sick and I realized that taking the “easy” way out was a stupid thing to do.
High school was not much different, as I was still an easy target, no matter what I did to try and gain weight, I could never break 98 lbs and being a twig just made people act differently around me, it seemed that no matter what I did I could not make friends easily. Those three years were hell on earth. I have repressed so many memories from school that I can’t seem to remember much of anything that went on.
Here is where things will bounce around and not make much sense... You have been warned!
The first memory that I have is of a knife being held to me and someone threatening me for some reason, I can’t remember what actually happened but, I can remember that jack-knife with the wood sides and brass ends like it were yesterday. It’s funny how unstable memory can be.
There was this one time in sixth grade where I was walking by the trees and was struck with a football to the side of my face just a few inches above the temple, man did I see stars. I remember feeling this intense pain and being knocked over. Before I could even stand up the playground monitor had called for the school nurse to come out and check me. I was rushed inside and told to lay down on the cot in the nurse’s office while I was monitored for a concussion. Well to make a long story short I developed the signs of a concussion and was sent home. I really don’t like Valentine’s Day, as it seems that I am doomed to be sent home every time that holiday falls on a school day either from illness or injury.
Then there is the time I flipped over my handlebars of my bicycle after racing to a supposed friend’s house, as his little sister had been hurt on the way home from school. She walked home and I wound up going to the hospital by ambulance. That day I will never forget as I found out that I had no true friends. I distinctly remember flying for 6 seconds before crashing face first into the asphalt during the afternoon. I didn’t really feel any pain as I went into shock before I hit the ground. I remember trying to get up and falling down again only this time I hit the back of my head on the concrete curb and stayed there. The kids from the school seemed to circle around me and laugh, no one went to get help and I remember laying there dazed not really remembering if I drifted off to sleep or not. The next thing I can really remember is the panic-stricken face of an adult telling me I needed to stay awake and talk to her. I have no clue who she was and I never did get her name, yet she managed to keep me awake long enough for the paramedics to arrive and start triage. Just before that, my mom showed up saying one of the neighbor’s kids had told her about the accident. Of course; by this time the other kids were nowhere to be found. I remember the ride to the ER being slow and very painful. Being strapped to a spinal board with a cervical collar is not something I want to experience again. I spent 5½ hours strapped to that torture device, before the doctor got the X-rays back and decided to release me from that prison.
The clean up seemed worse as the nurses scrubbed every cut and scrape with betadyne scrub. Man did that burn! It felt like the nurse was using sand paper to scrub out the wounds over my body. Somehow, I was lucky enough that I didn’t break any bones. All I got out of it was a sprained wrist and three stitches in my lip.
During junior high, I had some wonderful experiences; I was able to volunteer as a candy striper at a local hospital. That was a wonderful learning experience as I found I have a great bedside manner well suited for nurses. I did this for about 2 years and only stopped when I turned 18 and made the mistake of letting someone decide to help me join the military. During my last year as a volunteer I managed to catch Appendicitis, the funny part was I was working in a hospital when I started to feel sick to my stomach. I told my supervisor that I was feeling off and was going home early. (I usually worked 12-hour days on the weekends) She looks at me and asks if I want to go to the ER and be checked out, as I was looking pale. I brush it off, went home, and then curled up in my bed at Noon, and slept until seven that night when my mom had to wake me up. Usually I don’t do this. When she pulled off the blanket and placed her hand on me, she left and came back with a thermometer and took my temperature. Finding out it was 105.9 and still climbing we went to the ER where they delayed until 2:30 AM the next morning to remove my appendix, because I didn’t show all the signs of appendicitis. The surgeon didn’t want to do the surgery but said “If I leave this for the morning I have a feeling it will rupture” so at 2:30 I had my appendix removed. The weird part is I distinctly remembering the surgeon saying, “OH SHIT it ruptured” then the Anesthesiologist saying "Oh Fuck" before hearing the gas turn on. My next memory is waking up in a hospital bed somewhere else. Recovery took three days and now I can’t stand the taste or smell of JELL-O.
I have managed to keep a portion of my life hidden since I was five. This is when I found out that I was not male but I am a transsexual, mentally I am female, however physically I am genetically male. I kept having a feeling that I am supposed to be a girl not a boy, yet it felt so wrong to voice this so I buried it deep in my mind and keep it hidden. I manage to keep this hidden successfully for the next seventeen years. This is one secret that I still keep from my family. I have a feeling that my mother knows some of it but she hasn’t approached me yet.
I find it hard to be open with people because I have seen the horrible things they can do to others who are different because they don’t understand. I have seen the brutal beatings, stabbings and shootings that occur on a seemingly daily basis. I wish people would grow up and realize that everyone is different; nobody thinks the same or acts the same every moment of their waking life.
I know that most of this seems trivial but it is my life in a nutshell. Most people will think that it is crazy but it is all true.
Jayme Ann
Ok, I know I’m a little backwards and I should have started from the beginning not where the dream kicks in, sorry about that. I started out this tale in Northern Salt Lake City Utah at the North Star Elementary but had to move due to two problems.
Due to the many Questions that my story The Dream has caused, I decided to write this. Hopefully it will explain some questions, but leave others for later chapters. It is about 2,100 words give or take a few but it should help.
Part 1 Chapter 2 should be up soon I just want to fine tune some areas.
My History
Ok, I know I’m a little backwards and I should have started from the beginning not where the dream kicks in, sorry about that. I started out this tale in Northern Salt Lake City Utah at the North Star Elementary but had to move due to two problems. Firstly, my mom couldn’t find a job that allowed her to work a schedule around me going to school and coming home. (mainly because ) She didn’t want to send me to a daycare while she worked, not to mention the added expense. (Moreover,) The second problem was with me, well not really me but the other children at school (with) and how they treated me.
I really don’t want to remember how I was verbally and emotionally terrorized as the other boys grew bigger and I didn’t. Mom even tried taking me to the doctor out there to find out what was wrong but he said that I was a late bloomer and I would eventually grow. (Man, I thought that doctors had to be smart!) He didn’t even do any tests; all he did was feel around my body then tell mom “There's (was) nothing to worry about” (his words not mine). Well that was four years ago and I still haven’t grown past the forty-eight pounds, three feet six inches; it seems like I just stopped growing.
Mom trying to do her best decided to move to Washington for a fresh start. She even found a special doctor for me, his name is Edward T. Goldman and he specializes in Genetics. Dr. Goldman was the first one to find out that I had PAIS or Partial Androgen (resistance) insensitivity syndrome; actually, he called it Reifenstein syndrome. This is one of a group of diseases where the body is unable to respond appropriately to the male sex hormones (androgens), which include testosterone. After finding this, he ordered an MRI of my abdomen but had the results withheld from me. Dr. Goldman says I have fragile bones and my muscles won’t develop normally, because of my genetics. He says that’s why I have so many problems and why I don’t have strength and muscles like the other boys. He goes on to explain to mom that this is relative to the drugs, she took during her pregnancy with me, and that it is not her fault. He stresses that nobody knew what the side effects if any would be and the risk was worth her taking the medication.
The move seemed to work out well during the summer but I knew the peace wouldn’t last after school started. Enough brooding I actually tried to make some friends during the summer. I just wasn’t honest with them about my real age and let them see what they wanted. A four-year-old kid that was trying to look ‘all grown up’, it would have worked except I had to register for the new school and that’s where all hell breaks loose…
It turns out one of my friend’s older brother was there and found out I was really in the fourth grade and was as smart if not smarter than some of the sixth graders that went to Evergreen Middle School. Life would never be the same. I know I am smart enough to skip to the next grade, but I don't want to. I enjoyed school (when I wasn’t being used as a dumping ground) and wanted the experience of working through every level not jumping ahead (yeah as if I NEEDED another reason to be the butt of EVERY joke) like the teachers wanted me to. I still managed to learn more things that I didn’t really understand well as I sat in class waiting for the rest of the students to catch up to me, (the only place that I am the fastest) and I had the grades to prove it. Not that it mattered to the rest of the class. Most of the others saw me as a freak. I was smart and small… the perfect target.
Another reason that I’m put down is that I had to have a note from the doctor so the teachers at school would let me go to the rest room right away and not wait. I was so embarrassed! However, I get to go right away and don’t have to risk any accidents at school. That would have been too much! Still there were many narrow escapes and there was this one time during lunch where I was forced to have an accident since some of the countless bullies had ganged up in the bathroom to waylay me. I was embarrassed beyond all belief about that because not only was I teased by the bullies in the bathroom, but during the miserable walk to the nurse’s office I heard every snide and rude comment not to mention the cat calls from every other student there. I wished the ground would open up at my feel then swallow me whole. I wanted to die, I was so embarrassed that I started to run away from all the laughing, jeering, and humiliation as fast as I could. However, that only made it worse as I wasn’t paying attention to where I was running and ran into the Principal himself! By this time, I was a blubbering mess and I couldn’t tell left from right. The Principal wound up carrying me to the nurse’s office and calling my mom to pick me up.
(No, I won’t go into any more detail about that as it still disturbs me today) I felt so alone, as if it was just me against the school, as if there were no helping hands held out to me.
Every hand that was held out to me had a price tag attached to it. Being an eleven year old boy trapped in a body the screamed to everyone else that I was a preschooler, made things that more difficult! Even my clothes did little to show my actual age. Try finding clothes in the toddler sizes that would help me look like an eleven-year-old boy. No way, you can't find them anywhere! The adults always assume what you appear to look like. They treat you accordingly, and that means they all treat you like a preschool toddler! That is until you let them know, or at least try to let them know. They will usually laugh and think you are fibbing, and they respond with a wink, a chuckle and smile, or just laugh and tell you you're a nutty kid.
When they find out you're telling them the truth, the men are very uncomfortable, and tend to ignore you. The women just love you and want to baby you just the same. They can't help themselves! The girls want to treat you like their own living baby doll, and the boys treat you as if you’re a freak, ignore you completely, shun you and ban you from hanging with them. The worst of the worse will do everything and anything to humiliate you privately and publicly. These bad ones are both boys and girls. The girls are the worse of the lot because they tend to get away with a lot more than any boys would.
As the boys are a bit more obvious and crude, whereas the girls are more subtle and do things with your hair, nails, clothing, and their mothers can even be worse!
I remember back when I thought I could trust people in my class, there was one girl Sarah who actually made an effort to get to know me. Not the toddler that everybody else saw, the real eleven year old me. I was surprised and let my guard down. This would seal my fate and forever tarnish my trust of fellow classmates. It started out when she asked me to help her with her homework; she was in theater productions and needed to practice her stage makeup and costuming. Well trying to be a friend, I volunteered to help her and be a “test dummy”, not realizing what she had planned. After school had ended, we went over to her house and got started. She had me go into the bathroom and change into a robe to protect my clothes from the stage makeup. My mind was screaming something’s wrong but I wasn’t about to back out and lose a potential friend just because I got cold feet.
As she was putting the makeup on I started to fidget because I had to go to the bathroom, well Sarah was not listening to me as she had the stereo up pretty loud and I couldn’t talk over it. As she stopped to change from the foundation to eyeliner I jumped up and ran towards the bathroom, but I never made it. The belt on the robe had come untied and I stepped on it tripping me. I fell flat on my face and almost broke my nose. The feeling of intense pain momentarily overrode my need to use the bathroom and I lost control for a fraction of a second, unfortunately that was all it needed to cause me to have an accident. I was embarrassed beyond all conscious thought, here I am eleven years old and I just wet my pants like a toddler! Sarah was laughing at first until I stood up and she realized that I had had an accident, then she got mad. I was wearing her robe and she didn’t let me forget it.
She had me take a shower to clean up myself then she got a chance of clothes from when she was babysitting the neighborhood kids. I didn’t realize that she had a complete toddler girl outfit, including diapers. After my shower she dressed me in those awful clothes and then re did the makeup I had washed off in the shower. Sarah also curled my hair and made it look like I was no older than a three year old. When her mom came home later that afternoon Sarah told her about my fall and embarrassing accident, how she thought to use a diaper because my underwear was soaked. She even placed my clothes into a plastic bag so they wouldn’t get everything else wet. I was upset because my clothes were dry but she placed them in the bag anyway. Her mom wound up taking me home because I had to stay dressed in the toddler clothes and it would have been a disaster if I had tried to walk around the block to my house.
How could I ever trust another adult or another girl who claimed to be my friend? I was betrayed by someone who acted like a friend all for the sake of getting me to be dressed as the little girl she wanted me to appear to be. Even her mother got into it! Her mom gushed at how cute I was and tried to treat me like the toddler I was dressed as. I had no clue that Sarah had taken pictures of me dressed like this, but I found out later that week as one of the pictures was sitting in my locker at school. Sarah even had the nerve to write on the back “Baby Terri, we should do this again next Saturday. I’ll call you Friday to set up the date”
Someone always found a way to trip me at every other corner so it seemed to everyone else that I was either a klutz or worse a ditzy blonde-haired person. I am the only fifth grader who looks like he belongs in first or second grade in my school. I am an eleven-year-old-boy who chooses to play with the girls all the time, because I am too small to do guy stuff. I can’t play sports very much, because my bones are too soft. Just what I need my doctor telling me; that I will never get to be like the rest of the boys and that if mom hadn’t taken those drugs I wouldn’t be here today, life is swell… NOT!
I felt so alone, I had been betrayed, I had been manipulated, lied to, and even made to do things I did not want to do. All because others wanted me to appear as what they perceived what I should appear to be. Life sucks for a child when they are tiny and can't fight for themselves. I never minded the physical pain of tripping and punches. What hurt the most was the betrayal and the manipulations I had no control over.
The good news, well the day after the disaster with Sarah, mom got a phone call, it seems that her application was accepted and we were moving to Washington on Monday. I was permitted to spend the rest of the week helping mom pack and we left the Hell of Northern Salt Lake City behind!
‘Princess? Now I’m confused. I know I’m a boy, but did Mom just call me Princess?’ I opened my eyes, expecting to see my blue room with Spiderman posters on the wall, but was shocked to see Barbie posters, Faeries, and horses on PINK walls. Looking down at my bed, I found I was in a pink toddler bed with Tinkerbelle sheets and a pink comforter with Tinkerbelle looking happy on it. Shaking that off I looked at my clothes. I had gone to sleep wearing my blue Spiderman shorts and top, but woke up wearing a long shirt with little ponies on it..
First of all I would like to say a big thank you to Penny, for giving me the courage to post this story and I can't forget Angel who edited most of it, so that it was easy to read. Please comment, as I can't fix it if I don't know it is broken... giggles... Anyway, standard legal disclaimer... blah blah blah... Be cautious, as there is a portion of violence right in the beginning. Enough said, on with the story …
I had to fix the part about the three friends and re worded some areas to make it fit better
I woke up with my mom gently shaking me and saying.
“It’s time to wake up Princess.”
Princess? Now I’m confused. I know I’m a boy, but did Mom just call me Princess?’ I opened my eyes, expecting to see my blue room with Spiderman posters on the wall, but was shocked to see Barbie posters, Faeries, and horses on PINK walls. Looking down at my bed, I found I was in a pink toddler bed with Tinkerbelle sheets and a pink comforter with Tinkerbelle looking happy on it. Shaking that off I looked at my clothes. I had gone to sleep wearing my blue Spiderman shorts and top, but woke up wearing a long shirt with little ponies on it.
I started to ask Mommy (Wait, what’s with this “Mommy?” She’s Mom) what happened when I was startled by my voice. It was different. It was higher than when I went to bed. It sounds just like a little girls voice. It all seemed too real. I could smell the baby powder in the room, and it was starting to make me scared.
Before I could start to protest about the nightshirt I was wearing, Mommy went to the dresser and pulled out a pink shirt with buttons up the back, a pink dress, and some small lace socks. Looking at me she said, “Let’s get you all pretty for the pictures today.”
Trying to think, I looked at Mommy and saw she was smiling as if I really was a girl so I decided to play along. I thought to myself ‘It’s only a dream, I can wake up when I want.’ That was, till I went to get up and accidentally stubbed my toe, ‘Wait a minute! That hurt!’ My eyes started to water, and I started to tear before Mommy could say anything.
She looked down and saw my foot was starting to turn red. “I’m sorry honey; you need to be more careful.”
She kissed my cheek, but I was not crying about that. My mind was racing faster and faster. After all, I was a boy not a girl. I was in the sixth grade. ‘I’ve always been a boy I’M NOT A GIRL!’
Looking at my surroundings, I could see that my blue room was gone, but I still remembered everything I had done the night before. ‘Doesn’t Mommy remember that I’m eleven, not five … let alone, that I’m a BOY?’ As I sat there letting mommy dress me I tried to cope with what I was seeing, comparing it with what I knew was real… Nothing added up, something was wrong, this was a nightmare!
As Mommy put socks with pink lace on them on my feet, she stood me up. I got a good look at the ‘little girl’ in the mirror and could not believe that the reflection was me! I slinked up towards the mirror as Mommy was looking in the closet for something. As I got closer, I could see that there was definitely something wrong with my reflection. It looked like it was reaching out to touch me. As our hands met I felt a strong pull, just as everything went dark …
“Terry you’re going to be late for school!”
Mom’s yells woke me from that weird dream, at least that’s what I thought I heard. I look around expecting to see the pink room I had just been in but all I saw was my blue room. It had just been a dream.
I woke to the pre-dawn, remembering the crazy, yet all too real, dream. The best question I could think of is, ‘Would anyone believe me if I told them?’ I rolled over and saw my alarm clock reading 4:55. There was no way I could be late for school. It didn’t start for another three hours. Confused, I pulled off my Spiderman sheets and padded to the bathroom. Stopping to look at the mirror, I carefully looked at my reflection, looking pleased with myself that I really was awake this time. I continued on to the bathroom, relieve my bladder of what little was in my system, then continued back towards my warm bed after washing my hands. Even after the weird dream, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Thankfully, the dreaded nightmare that called itself a dream did not return.
The alarm started screeching with that programmed beeping noise at seven sharp. I couldn’t seem to remember the dream I was having this time, after waking from the first one. But it must have been good, because I was not screaming my head off, running from my room. Eating a normal breakfast of Captain Crunch, with a small glass of OJ, I quickly headed off to the bus stop where my classmates were waiting. Ignoring some of the taunts, I lost myself in the adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer as they were on their raft headed downstream. The bus arrived a few minutes later and the boring ride to Ponderosa Elementary began.
School was just as uneventful as every other day, so I will not go into much detail, as I don’t really want to remember the teasing, taunting, and other horrific deeds done to me by my peers. The only real friends I can think about are in the library found in many different novels; yeah I mean the books, because they don’t harass me like my classmates. Between being the smallest person in class standing three feet six inches and weighing forty-eight pounds soaking wet, and a loner, life at school was hard.
I have never gone into depth about school, because I was always alone. For the first week in school, everything seemed to be fine, then it was discovered that I couldn’t play as hard as most the boys and the teasing started. Being as small as I am, it is hard for me to keep up with anybody, and trust me I tried my hardest. (I know I’m bouncing around but it will make sense later.) One day, the P.E. teacher, who had been seeing my difficulties, and the fact that I was trying my hardest, while the other boys seem to be sloppy in comparison, asked me to stay back so he could talk to me after class
When we got to the office, I saw the principal Dr. Safford sitting there waiting for us. Before I could say anything, the P.E. teacher started with the standard line “Terry, I know you are trying your hardest to do the activities, but ”
Dr. Safford cut him off at this point. “We feel that it will be better for you to pursue another option that will be safer for you.” All I could think was that they didn’t want to see me fighting to keep up with the rest of the class, as I was always the last person done in every activity, and it wasn’t by a couple of seconds. Usually it was at least five minutes, maybe more. They gave me a note to give to my mom and bring back allowing me to drop out of the P.E. class. This led to the resentment of most of the boys in class; I guess they saw it as me getting a “Free Pass” to get out of P.E.
Of course, I had a much higher reading level of most sixth graders, partly because all my free time. I could be found in the library away from everyone, as this was the only way to keep myself from being beaten by the bullies during lunch recess. I found that made easier to cope with the issues I had to face daily. Of course, I really did try my hardest to ‘fit in’ with my peers, but they seem to tower over me and I don’t like it. I was always petrified, as once again I was the smallest, and the smartest kid in class. As the final bell rang, my teacher had to escort me to the bus, because often, the other students in school bully me. Hey, I would have given up almost everything to be ‘normal’ by my peers.
Safely on the bus I was dropped off at my after school program (I hate the term daycare) where I was again teased because of my lack of abilities. (Some days I wondered why this had to happen to me. I didn’t want this. I mean, who in their mind would want to be stuck looking like a three year old for the past six years? Why was I the one cursed to be stuck as a “little kid” for my school life.)
One day as I walked in, a new monitor looked at the door and sees what she wants to see, a toddler on the loose. As I was taking off my backpack I felt this presence behind me and heard, “Just what do you think you are doing, little one?”
I turned just in time to see a new face looking at me. ‘Great, just what I need, a newbie thinking I’m a toddler;’ With none of the regular caretakers present she picked me up and started to walk towards the toddler room.
I struggled to get my bearings and stammered out, “I’m Terry from Ponderosa Elementary.”
Stopping dead in her tracks, the new person began to do a great impression of a gold fish. As her mind was starting to make the connection, she sheepishly put me down and started to apologize to me. However, before she could really get started, I interrupted her and informed her that it happened all the time with the new people.
She stammered that her name was Ms. Julie and she was new. They had briefed her about me but she hadn’t realized that I would be this small. I have gotten used to it somewhat, so instead of letting it bother me, I just passed it off as a natural reaction that most adults have. (I know that for a sixth grader I have a rather large vocabulary. You should have seen Ms. Julie’s face when I explained in full context the meaning of irony …) Anyway, the afternoon passed without too much torment, and soon mom was there to bring me home. Finally home, I could finish the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn before dinner. It was only 5pm and dinner wouldn’t be ready for about another hour and a half.
Family life could have been better. I never knew my dad, and he never knew me. Jack Roberts (my dad) died in an accident involving a drunk driver, when he and Amanda (my mom) were coming home from the movies. They say my dad never knew what hit them. Mom on the other hand, spent almost six months in the hospital, where she found out she was pregnant after the Emergency Room doctor ran a basic pregnancy test because she was complaining about her stomach hurting. As they did the ultrasound to check they found something disturbing, and discussed the problem and how there was little chance of her keeping the baby due to the accident. Yet there was a "new" drug on the market to help women found in this situation. Nobody knew of any side affects, so she agreed to use this medication to save her baby. After she was discharged, she followed the doctor’s instructions to the letter and kept all of her appointments. Eight months later, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, naming him Terrance Jack Roberts after his father.
Dinner was uneventful and it was getting closer to the dreaded hour, bedtime. Being a typical child I tried to weasel out of going to bed and sometimes managed to stay up fifteen minutes later than usual. I guess being “little” has its advantages. Finally, the dreaded time approached, I could not stall any longer and had to face the music. As I got into bed, I prayed that the nightmare of a dream wouldn't come back.
I snapped awake in my bed, completely confused, a scream locked in my throat. I seemed to be having a reoccurring dream where I was young again but this time it was different, instead of being a boy, I was a girl. I was freaked out about something, but I couldn’t seem to remember. The dreams were starting to make some sense, for as a boy I never fit in, I couldn’t physically compete in sports because I was so small, I hadn’t gained any weight since I was four. I still fit into 3T clothes even though I was eleven, almost twelve years old. My mom kept telling me that I’d grow soon, but I didn’t know. I didn’t want to be this small for sixth grade, I mean it was already hard enough when a substitute teacher came in. They always seemed to think I belong in the kindergarten class with the rest of the children my size.
After school was worse because my mom worked until late in the evening, so I had to go to the local daycare’s, (I really hate that word, it makes me feel weird), after-school program. Even there some people tried to treat me like the little child they thought they saw. I’m glad the caretakers were finally informed about my ‘problem’ so they would leave me alone. It’s not my fault I still can pass for a three year old.
I just hoped I didn’t have that dream again when I went back to sleep. I wondered what was going to happen each night as I got ready for bed. After I had my shower and brushed my teeth, I headed towards my bed with great unease . I wished I could be happy for one night but I didn’t think it would ever happen.
The day just seemed to be getting worse. First it started with that weird dream, then some bully I didn’t even know was picking on me. I was roughly shoved, more like thrown into the wall face first with no warning.
I heard and felt my arm make a funny popping sound, then I heard the boy say, “What? The little baby wants to fight? You can’t even handle P.E. What makes you think you can fight me?"
Just as I turned to face him, I saw him turn white as a sheet and start to run away. I knew I am crying and my nose was running so I went to wipe my nose when I heard a scream from the teacher who had just turned the corner. I found myself being picked up and could feel the teacher running, with me in her arms. I tried to squirm out of her arms, but she just held me tighter and wouldn’t let me go. She ran all the way to the nurse’s office with me in her arms.
When the nurse walked in, she looked at me and called the principal into her office while getting two ice packs out of the freezer. By then, my face was really starting to hurt and I start crying harder. The nurse pressed one of the ice packs onto my face, the other onto my left arm, telling the teacher to hold them there. Then she pulled out the emergency card folder and asked for my name.
I was sobbing so much I couldn’t answer her, so she opened my back pack and spotted my homework. Pulling my emergency card from the book she went over to the phone and started calling someone. By this time, the principal had come in looking like he is ready to explode. Dr. Safford looked at me, seeing the ice packs, the swelling, and the now developing bruising on my face and sternly asked what happened. I try telling him what happened but it comes out sounding like
"I godd pussed indo dhe walb by sode sidth grabe boy.”
The teacher explains the events she saw to Dr. Safford ,spelling out the bloody nose and possible broken arm, thinking I was a kindergartner, when I screamed, "I ab not a kindergardner, ab I know whad you saib,” Then the world went black.
I woke up, finding myself in a strange room with a weird smell in it. Startled I look around and start to notice some odd things; First I was laying down on a bed with rails, Second, I have a pounding headache, and third, there was this strange beeping sound coming from above my head. I didn't remember anything after hearing the teacher say I had a bloody nose and was wondering just what was going on. I went to rub my face and I could see that my arm was wrapped up in something that makes it almost impossible to move it.
Just as I was about to scream I heard a new voice call out, "Honey, now that you’re awake, I'll go get your mommy for you". Before I could say anything, she was gone in a flash. A few minutes later mom was standing by the door with a tear stained face. "Baby, are you feeling better? You had me so scared. When I showed up at school with a change of shirts for you I found the ambulance outside and the paramedics were loading you into it. I was so worried."
During this, she had managed to get to my bed and pick me up. She was still holding me as if I was made of glass when the doctor came in to check on me. I found out that I had broken both my nose and my arm when I was slammed into the wall at school. Needless to say, I was allowed to skip the rest of school for the day. I had the option of going to daycare or home. Surprisingly, I chose to go to the daycare center, so Mom could go back to work. Besides, I liked the little kids there, because they didn't treat me like a punching bag.
Back at Ponderosa Elementary, the principle Dr. Safford called for an assembly of all the sixth graders as I was being taken to the hospital. He turned around and lectured them for half an hour for what happened this morning.
He finally ended, "I will have the person responsible for this attack in my office by the end of the day or there will be grave consequences for every boy here."
Then he released everyone to go to his or her classes and asked the girls of my class who knew me well to stay behind so he could talk to them about this. Dr. Safford found out that this was not the first time I had been bullied at school. Then he asked the girls to look out for me, as I was going to be even weaker until the cast came off.
As we pulled in the parking lot, Mom reminded me that if it got to be too much I could have someone call her to come pick me up. As we enter, Ponderosa Pines, She informed the staff there to call her if I ask them to. I placed my backpack in the closet where it went and made my way to the toddler room. Ms. Julie saw me coming and opened the door, and then I felt weightless as I was picked up and embraced in one of the best hugs I’d had all day. I was told that today I was to relax and have fun. I didn’t have to help if I didn’t want to, but she wouldn’t stop me. Still feeling tired, I look around seeing that it was nap-time, so I carefully pulled out a spare mat and lay down.
Closing my eyes, I felt the stress floating away as I now felt safe. As my head hit the pillow the stress from the day seemed to pour out, as fresh tears freely fell from my face. Nobody was here to see what happened as I finally succumbed to the demon called sleep. A valiant fight with the sandman was lost as I drifted off to sleep; the tears still staining the pillowcase as I slowly drifted off.
I woke to a itching feeling on my face. As I reach up to scratch it I feel the bandage on my nose, and was instantly reminded of the horrors that happened earlier this morning. Looking around, half expecting to be in class, I saw the familiar surroundings of the daycare. Taking a moment to calm myself, I tried to get up by rolling onto my arms and was painfully reminded that I had a splint on my arm where some bully broke it by slamming me into the wall.
I tried my hardest to hold back the tears and a small cry as I got up slowly, but my body didn’t want to cooperate with me. Ms. Julie saw me get up and saw the tears in my eyes. Walking over to me; she picked me up and held me, soothing me as she would most the toddlers there. Strangely, I was not upset by this. Usually I would have been squirming out of someone's hold to get back to the ground, but strangely, I was more relaxed by this attention than anything else today. Usually I don't sleep during the day like this but the stress of today, mixed with the drugs given at the ER made for a weird combination.
I’d wound up sleeping through snack and had only been remembered when I tried to get up and apparently whimpered. Mom was due there in about ten minutes so I asked for a small snack just to tide me over until I could get home. Ms. Julie was happy to get me some cheese and Ritz crackers and came back with a small plate full. I wound up sharing with the two children who were left, but I really didn't care. Megan and Adam were two of the toddlers that were usually picked up after I left. They looked like twins and I was starting to think they were. Both were always dressed, and acted alike (I decided I’d have to ask Ms. Julie about them).
As we finished our snack, I heard my mom talking with the adults and went over to her. Being careful, she picked me up and held me close, finishing her conversation. As we left, she asked me if I knew who had hurt me that morning, but I had no clue. But I told her that I would remember his face, and if I saw him, again I would know. She reminded me to be careful at school from now on. I still must have been tired as I fell asleep on the way home.
I was dreaming that I was back at school this morning, but the bully didn't run away. When I pulled myself off the wall, he pushed me hard and I fell to the ground. Seeing that I wasn't getting up, he kicked me in the side and ran off laughing. Trying to curl up into a ball to protect myself I got dizzy and collapsed against the sidewalk. Hearing the distinct crack of a head bouncing on the pavement, I snapped awake in my bed, completely confused curling into a ball screaming, "DON'T HIT ME.”
Startled by the sudden scream, mom snapped up from the book she was reading. Looking at me, seeing the terror in my eyes, she gently picked me up and started to rock me in the chair she had brought into my room. Starting to relax I feel the need to tell mom everything about the dreams I have been having.
As I unloaded on mom about the different dreams I had been having, she was shocked. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
That was all she could manage at that moment. Feeling as if I was in trouble, I just hung my head and started silently crying. I felt a gentle pressure under my chin pushing my head up so that I have to look into the eyes of my mother. I was confused; I didn’t see any disappointment in her eyes, just love. I knew that mom was going to say something, but before she could open her mouth, I gave her the tightest hug I could with one arm, as my left was still splint bound. Mom told me that whatever happened she would always love me, no matter what I decided.
I don’t remember what happened after dinner. I guess I was still shook up after the events at school that morning. I felt upset about what happened. As my head hit the pillow, the stress from the day seemed to pour out as fresh tears freely fell from my face and nobody was there to see what happens as I finally succumb to sleep. A valiant fight with the sandman was lost as I drifted off to sleep, the tears still falling, staining the pillowcase as I slowly drifted off.
“Princess, sweetie, wake up!” I could feel the faint presence of Mommy at the side of my bed, I didn’t really want to open my eyes because deep down I knew I’d be in my pink princess room.
“If you don’t get up now we won’t get to go to the theater today.”
For some strange reason I really want to get up and go see a movie, but I feared what I would find as I opened my eyes. Pretending to sleep, I turn away from the voice, only to feel the blanket being firmly removed from my body and the feel the weightlessness as I was picked up. The soft plastic of the vanity seat reminded me of what had happened the day before and I shuddered… ‘Why me? Why is it always me who gets the raw deal of everything?’ I was so tired of the confusion in this dream.
I opened my eyes to meet the day. Mommy cheerily greeted me as they opened. I still want to crawl into a hole and disappear, but I was lured out of my thoughts by the prospect of spending part of the day at the movies. Looking at my arm and expecting to see the splint, I was surprised that there was nothing there. It was as if yesterday hadn’t really happened, and it was just a dream.
“Terri, we have a busy day ahead of us.” Mom explained as she again dressed me in a skirt and blouse. “First, we have to go see the doctor, and then we can go to the Movies.”
At the word doctor I froze. I really hate the doctor’s office, as it is cold and scary. The people there always poke and prod; I always got stuck with needles (I HATE needles). I started to tear up and whine about the doctor but it seemed to be ignored.
As I was placed onto the bath, a piercing buzzing sound came from the wall next to my head. I blinked my eyes a couple of times, expecting to be on a cold exam table, but found myself in my warm bed.
Now I was really starting to get worried about these dreams. They all seemed too real. I could vividly remember the events of this dream, and that was weird.
Just as I shut the alarm off, my mom walked in.
“Just a reminder, you have a doctor’s appointment, so you will be missing some of school today.”
‘Great just what I need. First, I dream of a doctor’s office, then I really have to go to one. ‘Man, I hope that I don’t need any shots today.’
As I was eating breakfast, I kept thinking that the doctor was going to stick me with a whole bunch of needles. I was petrified, and literally started shaking so bad that I couldn’t hold my milk glass. Seeing the terror in my eyes, Mom stopped whatever she was doing and I suddenly felt her hands wrapped around me and I could hear her humming something. Gradually I began to relax and stopped my impression of a jackhammer. Nom reminded me that we could talk about anything that’s bothering me.
I told Mom that I didn’t want to go, because I didn’t want to get any shots. Remembering my fear of needles, Mom starts to comfort me telling me that she didn’t think I would be getting any shots, the doctor just wants to look at my injuries. Calming down a bit, I was able to finish my breakfast, and get ready for the doctor.
Getting dressed with a broken arm turns out to be very difficult, as I couldn’t hold my shorts or pull my shirt on. Asking mom for help was a bit embarrassing, as Mom hasn’t had to dress me since I was three. Knowing that I was having problems, Mom chose a simple pair of shorts and a loose tee. After getting ready, we head towards the doctor’s office for the follow up appointment with Dr. Goldman.
At the doctor’s office, I found out just how bad my arm really is. Apparently, when I hit the wall I hit it with so much force I caused a radial break of my forearm. Looking at the x-rays you could see the way the bone spiraled as it separated, also you could see where the pin was placed to help the bone heal.
Then Dr. Goldman took me into a room where there was a low table and a shelf with a bunch of different foil packages. He asked me what color cast I wanted and pointed to the shelf with what liked like thousands of foil packages arranged by size from 2 ½” to 3” and colors. I chose as close a match to royal blue as I could get, since it was my favorite color. I won’t go into the details about how the cast was wrapped on my arm as it hurt a lot and I don’t want to bore you.
The only strange thing was that the doctor wanted to draw some blood to do some test, so he had a nurse come in with my mom and hand me a cup with this little pill and a glass of water. I took the pill, and about a half hour later was so relaxed that seeing the needle didn’t seem to bother me this time. I even watched with curiosity as the nurse stuck my vein and drew three vials of my blood, without screaming or passing out as I usually do. (Later I found out that my mom had talked to the doctor and voiced her concerns that I wasn’t developing, as I should).
All I could think about was how it happened. I didn’t even know the kid who did it to me. However, if I saw him again I didn’t really know what I was going to do. Gee, it really sucks to be small, now I was going to be stuck like this for about six weeks. After the six weeks, I had to go back to the doctor, get more X-rays done, and maybe I can get the pin removed … maybe.
Mom decided that going to school for an hour would be a waste so we went to the movies. (Deja vu, anybody?) I don’t really remember the movie we saw, I think I fell asleep during it. The time spent with Mom is what I can remember, and it was wonderful. I felt carefree, as nobody could hurt me. Mom was there and everything was peaceful. As the movie ended, she says I was still nestled into the crook of the chair next to Mom, using her arm as a pillow. She tried to wake me up, but I was out cold. so she wound up carrying me to the car and driving home. The drive home was different, I couldn’t seem to wake up fully, and just drifted off, letting my mind travel freely wherever it wanted to go.
I remember being gently carried upstairs and placed into bed, surprisingly I couldn’t remember if I dreamt or not. Surprisingly I slept through the afternoon and woke up for dinner by way of mom brushing my face with a lock of my longish hair. I didn’t want to cut it but maybe I should get it trimmed after all it nearly reaches the bottom of my shoulder blades.
During dinner, I told mom that I thought I really was a girl. I didn’t have any friends at school that are boys, as I found their actions are truly barbaric and hurtful. The boys at school couldn’t seem to play with each other without there being some sort of competition between themselves, with a winner and a loser, whereas the girls could get together and have fun with each other, no competition, no winners, no losers, no hurt feelings. I felt better with the girls and they accepted me for who I was. I finally broke down and tell Mom that I only seem to have very little friends in school and it had been that way since kindergarten.
Following that, mom and I sat down for dinner. Dinner consisted of my favorite foods, Corned beef, Cabbage and Boiled potatoes. (I know it is an Irish dish and to my knowledge, I am not Irish, but I still like it) After dinner, we had discussed seeing a special doctor to help me find the truth as to who I was.
Then she sent me to the living room and called someone on the phone. I tried to tune out the one sided conversation until my name was mentioned, and then I couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah, I just found out that Terry has been having some disturbing dreams… No, I don’t know for how long … Do you know if Jessica is still practicing here ,or did she finally move“ … Really, that’s good … I’ll give her a call in the morning after Terry goes to school … No I don’t think he can hear me. I sent him to the living room to watch TV for a bit’.
Trying to look innocent, I returned to the show that was on, so mom would think I was overhearing something she didn’t want me to. Walking into the room after her strange phone call, Mom told me that I could finish the show, then I had to go to bed, as I had school in the morning. As the show ended, I showered, brushed my teeth, and got ready for bed, wondering who Janet was, and why Mom wanted me to see her.
The alarm woke me next morning, and strangely enough, I couldn’t remember having any dreams. It had been so long that I was curious as to why I didn’t have any dreams that night. Getting dressed for school seemed to take forever and I finally got mom to help me. I really hoped that I would learn how to do this soon, because I couldn’t stand being like this, and six months is a somewhat long time.
My friends seemed to know there was something special about me. They started meeting me at the bus, sitting with me during lunch, and during recess. They never left my side. No matter where I was, they seemed to find me. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to be alone. They even waited for me outside the bathroom.
During class, I kept seeing an empty desk towards the back of class, as I sat in a special desk in the far back of the class, I could see everyone in the classroom. I had never remembered that desk being empty as a blond haired boy sat there then it hit me like a sack of bricks. The kid who had pushed me into the wall used to sit there! As the class broke for morning recess, I stayed back and asked Ms. Davis who sat at that desk and where was he.
It turned out that the kid’s name was Jacob, and he hadn’t been to school for the past three days. Seeing the pale look on my face, the teacher asked if I was okay. She got to the side of her desk in time to catch me as I fell … Darkness surrounded me as I felt the rushing of the wind. Luckily, I didn’t feel my head bounce off the desk as Ms. Davis lost her grip on me.
I want to thank Holly and Angel for helping me correct and clarify some of the issues I had with my story. Again Comments are appreciated
I came to in another room. I was alone and scared out of my mind. I had no clue as to where I was, or if anybody knew, I was awake. I couldn’t move again and I could only see the ceiling in my room. I guess I woke up when I heard a familiar voice raised in anger. I couldn’t quite understand what was said, but there was a lot of noise then a door closed. I heard snickering and laughter as the sound faded. Eventually I found the call button and managed to press it. The quiet room suddenly burst with activity as a nurse, a doctor and some other people came running in. I found out that I was at Primary Children’s Hospital back in Salt Lake City, and I was back in the ICU.
Well here is Chapter 2 It is a little short but I meant to cut it off there as I am having some difficulties with the third chapter. Again I want to thank Angel for helping me. Hopefully I have all the tags correct.
The MATURE Rating is for the weblink to Alicia's Summer Vacation.
The smell of a hospital room was the first thing that I became aware of. As I slowly opened my eyes, I could see that the light was turned down, and Mom was sleeping beside me in a chair that looks like it hurts more than this type of bed did on my last visit here. I still didn’t want to open my eyes all the way, because I didn’t want to be reminded of my cast, and the bandages holding my nose in place. Yet now that I as awake, I could feel the extra padding around my head, and could see some of the extra bandages on the table. Watching Mom sleep was somewhat comforting, and I didn’t see the nurse come in, as I was stuck in thought about how all this started.
The nurse, seeing that I was semiconscious, tried everything to get my attention, however she didn’t realize that I wasn’t quite awake yet, and hit the Panic button for the doctor, thinking that I was catatonic. It seems that there was some sort of standing order that should I do anything, the doctor be paged to check on me. I had no clue that I had been out of touch with the world for about three weeks; apparently, I’d had a weird reaction to the pain pills the ER doctor had prescribed.
The next thing I can remember was this nasty smell under my nose, and the nurse’s voice repeatedly begging me to look at her. This caused Mom to wake up and stare at me questioningly. I could see the raw emotions on all the faces of everyone in the room, Mom, the nurses, and Dr. Goldman, as well as another person in the bed next to me I didn’t know. Looking at everyone there, and seeing the concern in his or her eyes made me really worry. As I was pulled into consciousness, that nasty smell was replaced with a small straw placed on my lips, with strict instructions to take a small sip before I do anything else. Wondering what happened and why I was here, I looked at the nurse, with a question in my eyes. The nurse reminded me to take a small sip from the straw before I could open my mouth to say anything. Realizing that my throat felt like sandpaper I tried to take a larger drink after my small sip, but to my dismay the cup and straw were removed from my reach before I could accomplish that deed.
Doctor Goldman told me that I had been out for three weeks the first two I spent in the ICU as I had a severe reaction to the Codeine that caused my heart to stop. This really scared me as I had been taking the medication for almost three days and hadn’t felt anything that could have been a warning sign. Doctor Goldman, the nurses and Mom all left to discuss some things without me overhearing them, leaving me to wonder what else I was allergic to...
Looking at the face that I previously didn’t recognize, I to the beginning of a smile. I just sat there looking at this beautiful dark brown haired goddess, awestruck that she was actually smiling at me. I knew that she was smiling at me, as I was the only other patient in the room. The other beds were empty. I missed her name, as I was daydreaming about the fact that she had smiled at me. Then she cleared her throat, which got my attention, and re-introduced herself as Alicia. Seeing that she was alone, I asked her where her parents were and suddenly the smile was gone. She told me that her mom and dad died in a plane crash and she had been removed from the rest of her family for her safety. But then she then told me that she would tell me more about herself later when I was feeling better.
Figuring that she thought I was a little kid I start to protest but she cut me off, saying, “I know you are eleven, and I refuse to treat you how I was, but you just woke up and I didn’t want to scare you too much.” ‘Wow, here I thought I had it rough.’ After a few days, she gives me a brief description of the hell she had gone through. My respect for her when I found out that she had survived that much went through the roof. I mean who would do something so evil to their brother? At least she turned out to be somewhat okay. I still see her cringe anytime a woman walked into the room, but I hoped she would get over that soon, as not all women are like that.
(For those who haven’t read her tale try here http://www.nifty.bunkhouse.com/nifty/transgender/authoritari... (BE CAREFUL AS IT IS A SERIOUSLY TWISTED AND DEMENTED TALE)
As night came along I noticed a small pain in my stomach, but I just brushed it aside, as I thought it was just the stress from recent activities, after all I had been out for three weeks because of a drug allergy. {Little did I know that my life was going to be turned upside down about six hours from that start of that small pain.} During the night I broke out in heavy sweating and a gut wrenching pain. The monitors attached to me started going nuts as the duty nurse came running in. Seeing that I was pale as the sheets I was laying on, she reached for the bedside light as my pain intensified again and I passed out again.
I woke up later that week with IV’s stuck in both arms and more wires sticking out of my hospital gown. Apparently, I had gotten a severe case of Appendicitis, and it had ruptured as the surgeon was operating. Now I had this cast on my arm, my nose in a bandage, my head wrapped, and three spots on my stomach that had stitches… ‘Just what I wanted, I don’t think I will ever get out of here.’
I still was running a fever from the infection, and I couldn’t go home until it was gone. I missed having real food, as I could only have liquids for a while. the doctor didn’t want to put too much strain on my stomach.
I looked around and saw that the other beds were still stripped; Alicia and were are still alone in the room. I started to tell her more about myself, but stopped when I got to the dream. I didn’t want her to think I was crazy, and I was still too weak from the emergency surgery to do anything.
Being cooped up in the hospital bed, I started to remember the one person back at my old school who hadn’t treated me like dirt. Granted, we both were seen as easy targets and were picked on daily, but Matt and I seemed to get along. We both agreed there must be a “strange attraction to small children” that brings out the worst in big kids and bullies. The worst person was Bartholomew Roberts, or Black Bart, as everyone else called him {not to his face}. It seemed that Matt was his favorite target. When he couldn’t find Matt, he used me as a substitute. A few days before I’d moved, I’d remembered that I had forgotten to tell Matt. I went to his house but he wasn’t there. I had to leave without telling my one true friend from school that I was leaving. Someday I hoped to find him and apologize.
Anyway back to the here and now. I was slowly getting better every day. My nose had healed and the bandages were to come off later that afternoon. Soon I would just have this cast and the surgery bandages. I hoped that I could go home soon, as the hospital was getting boring. I still was weak but I as getting stronger every day.
Alicia was seeing a councilor to help her with her emotional problems and I sometimes heard them talking when they thought I was asleep. I know I shouldn’t have listened in on their conversation, but I couldn’t really help it.
Knowing what she went through made me kind-of glad that I was an only child. It also made me hurt really bad inside that someone would do that to their family. I couldn’t stop feeling bad for Alicia, so I tried to get up out of my bed and walk to her to give her a big hug. Well, what I tried to do and what happened were two different things. As soon as I stood up, I felt this burning pain and then I fell over …
I came to in another room. I was alone and scared out of my mind. I had no clue as to where I was, or if anybody knew I was awake. I couldn’t move again, and I could only see the ceiling in my room. I guess I woke up when I heard a familiar voice raised in anger. I couldn’t quite understand what was said, but there was a lot of noise, then a door closed. I heard snickering and laughter as the sound faded. Eventually I found the call button and managed to press it. The quiet room suddenly burst with activity as a nurse, a doctor and some other people came running in. I found out that I was at Primary Children’s Hospital back in Salt Lake City, and I was back in the ICU.
Apparently, when I had gotten out of bed I ripped the stitches out of my incisions and almost died. I had been transferred to this hospital by helicopter and ambulance {too bad I was unconscious}. The surgeon spent several hours cleaning and suturing the wounds together.
The nurse introduced herself as Marie, and then turned to the doctor to await her orders. The doctor never said her name and rattled off something I didn’t catch, then left. The door opened again as Marie was raising my bed so I could see something else, when I spotted a rather cross-looking woman. The only thing she said was, follow me. It wasn’t directed to me, so Marie paled and left with her.
The next thing I know there is this beautiful girl looking in at the doorway holding Mrs. Covington’s hand. Looking at this little girl, I see a remarkable resemblance to Matt, but I also see something that I hoped I would never see, a dark cloud has set over the eyes of this beautiful child as if something terrible has happened. As I still can't seem to sit up on my own the little girl comes over to my bed and says, "Hi Terry, What are in for?”
Looking shocked at the girl sitting on the side of my bed I manage to croak out a weak “Who are you, and where is Matt?” Instantly the smile is gone replaced by a faraway look as tears start forming in the corners of her eyes, almost as if I had slapped her in the face. I have no clue what I have done but before it get to far out of hand Mrs. Covington reminds her that I had moved before the changes had started.
The girl then introduces herself as Matilda and fills me in on what happened after my move. Shocking doesn’t even begin to describe the events of her life and I wish we had never left as I lost a friend but gained another friend whom I will never forget, I know that Matt is gone now but Matilda is here to stay.
I tried to apologize to Matilda for not telling her I was moving away but before I could she gave me that look that women have perfected, you know the one that makes you suddenly speechless as if your mind just shuts down and does a hard restart. Once I am able to think clearly Matilda reminds me the past is in the past and to leave it there, and that she is not upset that I was unable to tell her that I was moving. Looking relieved, I want to hug her but I can’t sit up let alone get out of bed as I am recovering from my last attempt at getting up too soon.
As if reading my mind Matilda gently leans over me and softly hugs me telling me to get well soon, so I can get the hell out of here. Then like that, she is gone and again I find myself alone.
Thinking back to the dreams I have been having lately I try to see what makes me look like a boy. Remembering how I look in the mirror there is not really anything that screams boy but my haircut. Even with short hair, I constantly hear people calling me a cute girl. I wonder if maybe I was supposed to be a girl but something went wrong. I wonder if this repetitive dream is trying to tell me something, for now I guess that I can wait and try to heal so I can go home, it was nice to meet Matilda for the first time and I really wish I could have seen Matt that last time but things happen for a reason. I have learned that lesson time after time.
After all the excitement of the day is ending, another doctor has entered my room. I look at her and she looks nothing like the ICU, or ER doctors. I’m wondering to myself if she has the right room until she asks me if I am Terry, when I tell her that I am she looks relieved and then tells me that she is a therapist that deals with emotional trauma and she wants to talk to me.
The First thing she does introducing herself as Jessica, was asked me directly if I felt better being called Terry or Terri. I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t know how I felt, or who I really was. I’m tired of hiding from every bully around, and being the smallest person in school. I’m not sure what to make of this new person so I don’t want to tell her of the dreams that I am having.
Apparently, this is the same Jessica that mom was talking about on the phone. I still don’t know if I can trust her as many adults see me as something to be ignored or some sort of freak. I sat there trying to judge where this therapist fell in, but I was having difficulties placing her within the categories I had experienced. Maybe she was truly going to be different from the others, maybe she truly cared about what was going on. I still had my suspicions at this time about her motives and intention, so I wasn’t going to open myself to her just yet.
Sensing my doubt of her she goes on to tell me that I have nothing to fear from her, as she is here to help. (Yeah Right…. I am thinking that as soon as I start to tell her what has been going on in my life recently she is going to run screaming from the room, or lock me up somewhere.) Seeming to read my mind or whatever a therapist does she tells me that there is no way she is going to think any less of me no matter what I say.
I still find it hard to trust people that I do not know so I am leery of talking to this new person. Reluctantly I start to tell her about everything that has happened starting with school and ending before the dreams. There is no way I want to tell anyone about them they are still too weird.
It seems that my mother has been talking to her as well as she directly asks me about the dreams and wants to know why I am trying to avoid telling her about them, as she wants to help me.
Looking at Jessica, I tell her “Ma’am I don’t want to be seen as more of a freak then I already am” , “I have enough problems with being the same size as a toddler and not being strong enough to do even the basic playground things that the other boys can do.”
“Put yourself in my shoes, try looking like a 3 year old and have everyone want to treat you like one.” Starting to tear up at this moment, I sob out “The only friends I really had were two people, one of which I will never see again as he is gone, the other I am not sure will want to continue being my friend as she is back in Washington where I am here in hell.” At this point, I turn my head away from her so she can’t see the tears of pain and anguish that I can’t seem to stop.
The next thing I feel is this hand gently placed on my arm and it is warm. I want to turn and look at whose it is but I am afraid of being hurt and humiliated all over again so I resist moving my head back to it.
“Terry I know that you are afraid but I want you to trust me that you don’t have to worry about that with me, I am here to help you and I want to. I am not your enemy, nor am I ever going to be. In time I hope you will let yourself trust me enough to let me help you till then I will be here all you have to do is ask.” After saying that the warm hand is removed and I hear the chair squeak as it is moved away from the bed, then the door opens and I hear her say one last thing as the door gently closes “Terry I am sorry that you have had so much pain happen to you” then she is gone.
Sometime later, I manage to get the tears under control and I realize that she is different. First, she actually apologized to me; this person is the first adult other than my own mother who has seen me as the person I am not the toddler that their eyes show them, and now she is gone… I wonder if I am doomed to be this miserable for the rest of my life looking like some freak kid who will never grow up.
Thinking to myself, I wonder if it is safe to try to sit up a bit further knowing that the last time I did I got hurt worse I resign to stay in this quasi reclining position till I know for sure. With all the stress of the day, I suddenly feel like I have not slept in days and I feel my eyes start to droop…
To Be Continued...
The next chapter will be out eventually. My muse is still teasing me with this idea and I am not completely sure where it will go yet
Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author{s}. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2007, 2008 Jayme Ann. All rights reserved.
I want to thank Penny for allowing me to join in on part of her story, and Angel for helping turn this into a wonderful work of art that people deserve.