Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2015 - Fall - Blurred Edges Entry
Glimpses in Time - 1. Glimpses in Time
At 4-years-old:
"Jason, what's wrong? You got some lovely gifts for your birthday, but you don't look happy," his mother observed, while looking down at the frown on her son's face.
"I didn't want this stupid truck, that dumb fishin' game or any of that other stuff," he snapped back, not at all happy. "I said I wanted a Barbie and a Disney Princess Songs Palace."
"I know, but Daddy thought you'd like these too," she offered with as much sympathy as she could muster. "Your sister will let you play with her Barbie, so you don't need more."
"But I want my own!" he screamed, before racing off to his room sobbing.
"What the hell is the matter with him?" his father growled derisively after witnessing his son's reaction. "Is this our fault? Did we let him spend too much time playing with Amy while he was growing up?"
"No, dear, and don't worry about it. This is just a phase he's going through and he'll outgrow it," his wife offered in return. "Just give him a little time."
At 8:
"Jason, come on!" his mother pleaded, as her son lay face down on the bed. "You've got to get dressed for the wedding."
"I don't want to go!" he shouted in reply, as he lifted his head and glanced back at her, so she could see the defiance on his face.
"Why not? It will be a lot of fun," his mother offered, trying to convince him to do what she wanted. "Aunt Caitlyn expects you to be there. She's counting on you to be her ring bearer."
"But I don't want to do that and I'm not going to wear that suit," he snapped back, not giving an inch. "Why can't I be a flower girl like I wanted and wear a pretty dress like Amy?"
"Because you're a boy!" his father snapped in return, his scowl set and his eyes ablaze in anger, as his wife rolled her eyes in return. "This isn't a phase any longer and it's time we do something about this. I'm tired of coddling him, because it's not working."
"I know the church has some good programs for troubled youth," his wife offered as an alternative. "I'll go and check some of them out, so I can see which one would be best for him. Don't worry. I'm sure they'll be able to help and I'll ask everyone to keep us in their prayers."
At 12:
"I'm not gonna sign up for football and I don't care if you ground me for a year!" Jason screamed, staring back at his father in defiance. "I want to sign up for dance lessons instead. I want to be a ballerina."
"What the fuck is the matter with you and why the hell do you insist on doing all of that sissy crap?" his father shot back, unable to understand his son. "Playing sports will help you forget about all of that other shit and start making a man out of you."
"But I don't like sports! They aren't any fun for me. And I don't want to be a man!" Jason shouted in reply. "Why won't you just let me do the things I like instead?"
"He's fucking hopeless," his father groaned as he looked at his wife. "That church group you signed him up for has done nothing to help him either and the school psychologist is full of shit!"
"They're doing their best and trying to help," his wife responded, but he acted as if he hadn't heard her.
"Maybe if we made him cut his hair so he didn't look like a girl, then he'd stop acting like one," his father mumbled, grasping at straws.
"I don't think that would help either," was his wife's retort.
"We've got to do something," his father mused. "It's time we took off the gloves and used a tough love approach. We also need to start looking for another option, one he can't ignore. It's time to pull out the heavy artillery and move on to more drastic measures."
At 16:
"Jason, you've got to get ready for school," his mother urged, as she knocked on his bedroom door for the umpteenth time.
"I'm not going. I hate it there," came the reply through the closed barrier. "And my name is Jasmine."
"Ok, Jasssmine," his father responded mockingly. "You either get your ass out here, ready to go, or I'm coming in after you."
"Go ahead!" Jasmine challenged. "Beat me again if you want. What difference would it make, since that's what's going to happen to me at school anyway. The only thing that will change is that it will be the Neanderthals wailing on me instead of you."
"It wouldn't be like that if you tried a little harder to fit in," her father countered, exasperated. "This is the third school you've attended and it's been the same at every one of them."
"Why can't you just let me study at home then?" Jasmine offered, hoping that this time her parents might finally agree.
"Because neither your mother or I can afford to quit our jobs so we can home school you!" came the reply. "You've already cost us a small fortune in therapists and tuition at private schools, but nothing has worked because you won't cooperate at all."
"Why should I change, just so I can become the person you want me to be? It's not who I am!" Jasmine explained, wishing her father would finally understand.
"We've wasted enough time doing this and I'm going to be late for work," her father huffed, running out of patience. "Either you start coming around or you'll leave me no other option but to have you committed to someplace that deals with freaks like you. Maybe if we send you away for help then you'll have no choice but to straighten out!"
At 20:
"You've been doing a lot better since you became emancipated," the therapist offered in a very low-key voice. "Do you want to tell me about the place your parents sent you to or what kind of things happened there now?"
"No! I just want to forget about that hellhole," she spat back, glaring at the therapist her employer had provided for her. "They stripped me physically, mentally and emotionally and abused me in more ways than I ever imagined possible. I thought I had it bad at school, but that place made school seem like summer camp."
"Why don't you tell me a little more about what happened there," he urged, while keeping his tone steady. "I believe it would be therapeutic to finally talk about what happened there and get it out in the open."
"I'm sorry, but I can't," she choked out, nearly in tears. "The pain is too fresh and the scars too painful to even think about it. I just want to erase all of that from my memory."
"Do you think your parents knew what they were doing to you there?" the man asked next, hoping one of his questions would cause her to lower her barriers and finally reveal the details of this horrific episode of her life.
"Oh, they knew all right," she hissed in response. "They came to visit me twice while I was there, to see how I was doing, and I told them about everything the monsters there were doing to me. Can you believe that my parents had the nerve to tell me it was for my own good and I should try to work with them?"
"Why do you think they told you that?" the therapist pressed, seeking greater insight.
"Because they wanted a son, not a second fucking daughter," she snarled, releasing some of her inner hostility. "They never cared about how I felt or what I wanted. It was always about keeping their perfect little family together, with one daughter and one son."
At 24:
"Jasmine, are you positive you want to do this?" the surgeon asked, while looking for hidden facial clues or signals she might be making with her body language as she responded. "Once you do this, there will be no going back."
"I know! Isn't it wonderful? I'll finally be able to escape from that person everyone else wants me to be, but that I despised," she sighed. "I haven't been Jason since I was really little. In fact, I don't think I was ever Jason at all! I may have had Jason's body, but my mind and everything else was totally Jasmine."
"If you're sure then I'll schedule the surgery," he agreed. "You have been through all of the psychological counseling and you've completed the hormone replacement program, although you'll be required to continue taking some of those drugs for years to come."
"Trust me, I've had more psychological counseling and therapy than anyone should ever have to endure, so I am ready and totally prepared to do this," she confirmed. "After getting away from my parents at 18, I've been on my own and I've worked really hard to save every dollar I could so I could finally do this. Trust me, there's no way I'm about to turn back now."
And so it happened and Jasmine finally got her wish. Her body is now consistent with her mind, personality and interests. She is also happier than she has ever been before or even hoped to be. Thank God for modern science and the opportunity to correct a mistake of nature.
The End.
- 12
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2015 - Fall - Blurred Edges Entry
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