Thursday came, and it was doomsday. Danny awoke, dreading what he would have to face after school. He wants to cry, scream, shout, and rage, but he can’t. And if he could, it wouldn’t change anything anyway. He laid in bed, the alarm on his phone going off repeatedly as he kept swiping snooze. Eventually, his mom knocked on his door commanding him to get up. Danny dragged his butt out of bed and hauled it into the bathroom. After using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he headed back to his bedroom to change. However, he was interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door.

Danny was your typical Freshman American boy. He lived with his parents and an older sister, he got decent grades, he had a few close friends, and he enjoyed all the typical hobbies a boy his age would like video games and riding his bike. He also never liked to party and hated to be the extrovert type with all the attention. Instead, he enjoyed the more simple, quiet life just taking everything one day at a time.

Being Samantha Masters

an homage-prequel to Being Christina Chase

'Cause the stars are dull when they're compared to you and I
And if people don't like it, then they can close their eyes
'Cause we're not the same and we don't have to try
'Cause we're brighter than fireflies
We're gonna light the sky

Bobby

That Thanksgiving was scary and mortifying. Not to mention the horror it all led to.

“Robert Taylor Smith! Where do you think you are going like that?”

The most scary part really came early, already at Halloween. As every teenager knows, hearing your full name expressed in a severe voice by one of one’s parents is not a good sign. Especially when expressed by a father reading with his back towards you.

Add to that I was trying to sneak out dressed in my sister’s cheerleader uniform …. Yes, I had forgotten about the mirror on the wall. Mirror, mirror on the wall tell me who is the kid most in trouble.

When Macy and Jack returned with Victoria, Tara was almost certain it was her two daughters who were returning, bags of clothes gripped enthusiastically in exited hands. Jack seemed completely comfortable in his girly disposition despite Victoria's presence and his earlier qualms which had seen him leaving in as emphatically a boy mode as he was capable of. No doubt about it, Jack was returning even more utterly in girl mode than he had left in boy mode. Hands waving in girlish gesticulation voice high in enthusiastic conversation with the other two.

The school was a sight to behold, far beyond anything I had ever imagined. It stood before me, a testament to elven elegance and grandeur, its towers and spires reaching gracefully into the sky. Every detail of the architecture seemed to shimmer with the same fluid design I had come to expect from the elven world, but this place was on a grander scale. As we approached the entrance, I, Sam, couldn't help but feel out of place. The courtyard was a sea of elves—tall, graceful, and otherworldly. I scanned the crowd, hoping to see another human, but there were none.

Being Samantha Masters

an homage-prequel to Being Christina Chase

It's the Only Way to Be Sure

“Samantha?” came a soft voice.  “Is that y— oh, honey, what happened?”  Arms encircled his shoulders and he didn’t even know who it was but he didn’t particularly care.  He just clutched back and cried all over her shoulder.

“So, what is it you want to talk about?” asked David Wetherell as he stabbed chunks of lamb with his plastic fork.

“You’ve led kind of a sheltered existence,” she said, “being Jennifer only in relatively safe places at safe times. Most girls are in danger of that kind of thing at least a few times a year, if not every day — it depends on their circumstances. But it’s still worth it, being a girl.”

We stepped into our new home, and I was immediately enveloped by the serene beauty that surrounded us. The grand hall showcased the same flowing, natural designs that were emblematic of all elven architecture. It was as if the very essence of the forest had been coaxed to form the structure itself. The banister of the curved staircase seemed to have grown organically from the floor, its smooth lines resembling the gentle twists of vines reaching toward the sky.

And now for something completely different. Actually, it was my latest story, Death in Venice Beach, that was something completely different. This is more the normal me; short, cute and twisted (I’m only 1.64 m tall).

Nancy recommended a couple of hangover cures, which required ingredients the dining hall didn’t have, but I made up a makeshift with orange juice and hot sauce, which took my mind off the hangover if it didn’t cure it.

Being Samantha Masters

an homage-prequel to Being Christina Chase

Detransition, Maybe?

In the end, Rowan had to get behind Sammy, put her hands on his shoulders, and gently push him into the dining room.