Mommy's Girl.

Part 2 - A Slow Day

-- Written by "Irene Naridza"

It had been two weeks since my mother decided that I should wear skirts and dresses, not to mention the obnoxious ballerina costumes. There's just a problem with that. I AM A BOY. We boys don't use girly things like that. He should be practicing soccer right now. But instead, I find myself trapped here, dressed in a ballerina girl outfit.

Now I am under the name "Nadia", I dislike that name, but it is the one I must adopt to maintain the facade of "obedient girl" that my mother is forcing me to be. It bothers me, but then I remember that the other option is to use my real name, Nathan. That would cause everyone to know that I'm actually a boy. That's the last thing I want right now. My friends would see me as a sissy and the girls would see me as some kind of weird pervert.

I am neither of the two. I'm just a boy whose mother is forcing him to be a girl. Unfortunately, no one would believe me. That's why I've decided to continue keeping up appearances for the duration of my suspension from school. At least I have a few days left.

A soft sound of bells is our signal so that everyone in the class can sit down and rest our muscles. That is the bell that signals the end of classes so we can take a short break before retiring to our homes.

I walk to the lockers and grab my belongings. It's a simple bag with spare ballet clothes, my cell phone, a bottle of water, and the house keys. I exchange a couple of goodbyes with my companions before leaving. "See you Tuesday, Nadia." I recognize the voice of my ballet teacher.

"See you, Madame Melody." She returned the gesture before leaving the premises of her ballet studio. She is a nice lady without a doubt, although sometimes very strict. The first few days, just the warm-ups, were torture. But now, it's clear that I've gotten used to it. I think she's the only one who knows who I really am, but she keeps the secret.

It doesn't take me long to get home. I just took the bus and it arrived in 10 minutes. I have already learned to tolerate other people's looks. I know they don't look at me and think. "Disgusting, an effeminate boy." The disguise is quite efficient. Even so, I feel uncomfortable noticing that they look at me for more than a second. Mom says I can't blame them since; "There isn't always a radiant ballerina taking the bus."

That is not true. Several colleagues also take the bus. Hugh, what a bother. Maybe she's right when he says I worry too much about other people noticing. If they haven't noticed in two weeks, why would they notice now? The good thing is that all this is about to end.

When I got home, I noticed that there was no one there. My mother is staying late at work these days. After taking a shower, wiping off the sweat from ballet classes. I put on an outfit selected by my mother. I don't know how, but one way or another she manages to know whether or not I'm being her "Mommy's Girl."

I highly doubt she ask any of our neighbors for spied on me. That sounds scary and that's what I would least like. Also, my mother is quite reserved. It must be some hidden camera like the ones they use on television shows.

Here comes the hardest part for me which is, I hate to admit it, but I like this outfit. Make no mistake, I hate wearing girl's clothes, except that I'm forced to wear them anyway. At least I would like it to be clothes that I like.

The outfit is a blue dress, a white t-shirt with diamond patterns, white tights with tiny circle embroidery, and black flat shoes. I like the details of the circles and rhombuses, because at first glance they give the impression of being stars. I don't waste any more time and get dressed. I still have to finish drying my hair, it's already long.

Mom already taught me how to braid my own braid, but I think this time I prefer to have it down. I looked in the mirror after all that and she noticed that I can barely recognize myself. It's amazing that my appearance has changed so much in such a short time. If I didn't know it was me, I would like to talk to the girl in my reflection.

To Be Continued...

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----------- If you find any misspellings or a dead link, please let me know. ------------

--------------- Writer's Opinion ---------------

· Hello. There is a second part from the story. Many of you were asking one. Sorry if it's not exactly what you expected. But I will hear anything you have to say about it. Hope you like it.

· Nadia outfit is different from the photo because I write the story before searching a similar picture.

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