Inside Of Our Minds (Hannibal Lecter's Son)

Chapter 19) Dysphoria

It was Tuesday, after my studies and filling out college applications I took a nap. Ashton was in his room playing video games. It was 7 PM when I woke up to myself screaming, I had another unfortunate wet dream. I wet the bed, everything was wrong. I looked down and my bottom growth was attentive and awake. I hated it, I just wanted a penis. I feel like a bad boyfriend to Ashton who deserves all that I can give him.

I was in hysterics, Ashton ran in but he can't calm me down. Papa followed shortly after.

"I can't calm him down!" Ashton panicked.

Papa looked at the wet sheets and back to Ashton.

"Go get some new sheets and wait downstairs." He ordered, Ashton did just that.

"Mickey what's wrong? Talk to me." Papa said in a firm yet comforting voice.

"I can't take it anymore!" I sobbed. He pulled me towards him and did the full body pressure thing. It really helps.

"My boy what can you not take?" He asked.

"I need a penis! I want to pee standing up! I want inconvenient boners! I want everything! Why can't I just get one!" I cried.

Papa pushed my bangs aside from my sweaty forehead, he kissed the top of my head.

"Unfortunately you have to wait until you're 18 to get one."

"Please just call Dr. Hopkins!" I cried. "I don't know what to do!"

"Michael you have to calm down so we can speak rationally." He said. He pulled me off the bed so I was standing, still wrapped in his arms.

"I can't! I just want to be like the other boys! I don't feel man enough!"

"Mano berniukas.." He said pulling me towards the bathroom.

"Remove your shirt." He said standing between me and the door." I took off my shirt and looked at him confused. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.

"Look in the mirror." He said standing beside me. I looked in the mirror, seeing my father calm and collected but a crying boy in shambles.

"What do you see?" He asked.

"I see that we're both shirtless."

"You're growing chest hair." He said smiling.

"I guess so."

"You know what I see?"

"What Papa?"

"I see a two tall men, I see that you have the same chest I do, you're very broad, might be broader than me." He said putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Yeah so?"

"I watched you grow up dear, you were a teeny tiny little toddler girl when I first got you." He added. "You've grown into a strong young man that I'm proud of."

"Really? You're proud of me?"

"You look like my father when he was a young man." He said smiling. "You look like me."

"I do?"

"If you were a girl, if you hadn't started puberty blockers at the right time you would look like your mother."

"I suppose so."

"You were lucky to have puberty blockers so you wouldn't have to have scars on your chest." He added. "You can go your whole life with nobody knowing."

"I know Papa but I want a penis, bottom growth isn't something I can have sex with." I complained, cringing that I'm telling my own father about intimate details of my life.

He smiled, as if he could feel my discomfort.

"I want you to be able to tell me anything. That's what I'm here for that's my job and I'm proud to listen."

He put his shirt back on and began running a bath for me. Fixing bubbles and bath bombs.

"Step in." He said gesturing for me to go to the tub."

I removed my pants and stepped in, it was nice. He took my dirty clothes and my bedsheets and put them in a hamper. He returned to the bathroom. He got on his knees beside the tub.

"You used to hate when I washed your hair." He said pouring a cup of water over my head. I laughed and shook my head. "Yeah I guess so."

"Do you remember how much you hated baths?" He chuckled. "I'd have to force you into the tub then everything was okay."

"I remember." I said reminiscing.

"The bubbles were so you didn't have to see your own body." He stated, lathering my hair with shampoo.

"I remember."

"You will eventually get the body you want." He said rinsing my hair.

"I wish it was now. Why did God do this to me?"

"You know my beliefs on God." He said drying off his hands.

"I know he's cruel and sadistic."

"Perhaps if he made you born male then there would be other issues." He said as I rinsed off and stood up. He handed me my towel.

"I guess so."

"I also think I wouldn't be able to stop you from girls as much." He chuckled.

"How so?"

"You always had girls chasing you." He chuckled.

"I guess I did." I said getting dressed. He fixed my bed and I went downstairs for dinner.

Over the next few weeks Papa was acting suspicious. He had Ashton and I pack our stuff too.

"Here, don't lose these." He said handing me my birth certificate and social security card.

"These are yours." I said looking at the name.

"No they are yours dear."

I looked at the birth certificate, Male, October 16th 1997, Count Hannibal Michael Tomas Lecter VIIII.

"Why is my name Count Hannibal??" I asked Papa.

"You're the ninth in line." He said helping me with my suitcase.

"What?" I asked.

"My father was Count Hannibal the 7th, I'm the 8th, you're the 9th."

"Oh dear God." I cringed.

"It's a family name." He frowned. I let it go and continued packing.