Sunday, October 17, 2010

Discovering The Woman Within (Short Fiction Story)

(Disclaimer: This is just fiction. It in no way reflects anyone's experience. However, it is part of a series of short stories I'm writing, so please enjoy, discuss, and leave your opinion.)

Discovering The Woman Within
(Copyright 2010)

    “I’ll be over in just a few minutes,“ I said hanging up the phone.
    As I stared in the mirror I checked to see if everything was on point. I wanted to look my best for the love of my life, Jason. My hair was done. I’d bought the best wig 500 dollars could buy. When I was little my mom always said, “You can never spend enough money on your hair.” My make-up was flawless. For this special occasion I made sure to buy some MAC in every color so I could find out what enhanced my beauty. Originally I’d planned to go to Walgreens like I usually did to pick up some make-up, but Jason deserved the best. I checked my fingernails and toenails. They cost $300 but they looked good, flawless, done to perfection.
    “You know you shouldn’t do this. You’re never welcome back into my house if you go along with it.” My father’s voice rang through my head as I looked down to make sure my breasts looked nice. They fit perfectly into the c-cup bra I was wearing. I’d paid a lot of money for my c-cups, so they needed to be perfect. Men looked at me differently once they saw my breasts. They stared in amazement. Their stares were different. I could tell they wanted me just from the lust in their eyes.
If my dad would have seen the way I looked he would have had a different opinion. “Take your punishment like a man,” I remembered him saying one day when he caught me trying on one of my mother’s blouses. I was thirteen at the time and had just come to the realization that I would never be into girls like he wanted.
    “Come on. Bend over. That’s what those other sissy men are going to make you do once they discover you’re just like them.” That night I bent over on the side of my bed like he wanted. Then he beat me over and over again with a leather belt. I screamed over and over again as the pain intensified.
    “Keep screaming and I’m not going to stop.” The only reason my screaming stopped was because eventually I lost my voice. He left my room thinking he had changed my way of thinking, but all he did was prepare me for the cruelty that was to come.
    The reality that I was an outcast came when I was fifteen and was nearly beaten to death one day after school. Initially I wasn’t the target. These guys were harassing a girl who was a virgin. She’d told them she didn’t want any of them. They had planned to rape her until I jumped in. It was the biggest mistake I could have made.
    “Faggot, stay out of this,” I remembered one of them saying. I didn’t even know how he knew of my homosexuality, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to help the girl.
    “I’m not going anywhere until you leave her alone,” I responded trying to stand up straight and poke my chest out. My dad always said it showed masculinity and scared others away. However, it didn’t work for me that day. There were four of them and the girl ran off once they started attacking me. The only reason I lived past that experience was because a police officer saw what was going on and scared the boys off.
    “Hello,” I said. My phone startled me out of my thoughts. I was starting to change my mind about being with Jason and he must have realized.
    “Hurry up,” he said. “It’s lonely here and I’m missing you.”
    “I’ll be there in just a minute.” I hung up the phone again and glanced at myself in the mirror. Hair done, nails did, make-up straight, and the best plastic surgery a man could get to become a woman looked back at me. The scared 15-year old boy no longer existed. Instead a beautiful 28-year old woman had been born in his place. That woman was me and I had to start accepting it. After all this is what I wanted.
    “I’m coming to be with you my love.” I used my best Toni Braxton accent, ran out of the bathroom and into the living room, grabbed my keys and purse, and put a smile on my face because I knew it would be a great day.

To Be Continued



    lisa perry

  2. A short story. About a cross-dresser. Yeah because you are my friend I am going to censure most of my opinions. It did seem believable though. Did Byron say you could write his life story?

  3. LOL, why did you have to bring Byron up? That poor boy is living his life somewhere away from people like you. Oh, plus he stopped cross dressing a while ago.