South Park: Senior Year

14. I'm a Girl

      "Butters! Breakfast!" Marjorine's mother called up the steps to her daughter. Mari lifts her head from her pillow, staring at her alarm clock. It was 7:30.
     She groans as she gets up from her bed. She hated getting up this early on the weekends but it was Sunday and her family had church. Marjorine had conflicted feelings about being catholic. She thinks she believes in god and she knows Jesus is real but some of the things the church believes in disagree with her way of thinking. Like wanting to be a girl for example.
     Marjorine heads downstairs to see her plate of eggs and toast on the table at the seat across from her father, who had the newspaper in his hand like usual.
She sat and ate her eggs quietly. When at the dinner table her family hardly spoke to one another. Or at least they never spoke to her. Marjorine had always tried to jump into the conversations her parents were having but she was always ignored. After a while, she realized that her family didn't care for what she had to say. Marjorine found that many of her social interactions played out the same way. No one ever spoke to her directly. No one ever included her in anything. Once she'd given up on trying to be heard, people didn't even seem to notice or care that she was there.
Only Kenny had ever really seen her and paid attention to her. He always had, even since they were little. He was the one who stuck around. And now, he was her only real friend.
After a while, Marjorine stopped minding it. She started to like being alone. She liked not disappointing people when she got grounded or when she was too scared to go to a party, or dance, or hang out with big groups. She liked being super close with Kenny too.
"Butters, go get your suit on, we're leaving soon." Her father instructed her once she finished her breakfast.
Marjorine frowned to herself and headed back upstairs to her room. She took her suit from the closet and set it on her bed.
As Marjorine changed out of her pajamas she made sure to keep from looking in the mirror. She hated seeing her flat chest when her shirt was off. If she didn't look, she could try to pretend there was something there.
However, any hopeful thoughts were destroyed the moment her suit was on. It made her look so masculine, she wanted to cry. The longer she looked at herself the more she felt unreal. It didn't even feel like it was herself in the mirror anymore, but some boy who had her encased inside of him. It felt like she was looking out the window of someone else's house.

After church, Marjorine felt even worse than when she left. Older ladies and other moms had called her "such a handsome boy" and "a polite young man."
Sure, they were all compliments and no one had any ill intent but did they have to include that she was a man, a boy, a gentleman? Anything but a fucking girl.
Once home, she went straight back to her room. She shut her door and ripped off her suit. She put on her pajamas and then slipped on an old dress she'd stolen from her grandma's things. Her grandma had died when she started middle school and all her clothes and other belongings were stuffed into boxes strewn across her old room. Marjorine had thought about stealing one from her mother but knew she'd notice, so she went through her grandma's boxes. It felt nice to have it. Like her grandma passed the dress down from when she was a little girl. Her grandma had always wanted a granddaughter.
Marjorine checked her reflection. The dress was long and flowy and blue. It was covered in pink and red flowers and smelled like her grandma's perfume. Marjorine stared at herself a bit longer, admiring how girly she looked, but, tears still came to her eyes.
She wanted to look like this all the time. She wanted the ladies in the church to call her a beautiful young woman. She wanted to wear cute clothes and perfume without getting called a faggot. She wanted everyone to assume she was a girl first. She wanted to be happy in her skin and not afraid to show her parents and everyone else around her that this was what made her feel good. She wanted to-
"Butters? What are you doing?"
Marjorine head snapped to her left to find her mother standing in her doorway, her face shocked.
"H-hey mom. What, um. What do you need?" Marjorine stammered her face burning red.
"Is that grandma's old dress?" Her mother looked disgusted.
"Um." Was all she managed to say.
"Steven!" Her mother called angrily. "Come take a look at what our son is doing!"
Oh god. Oh geez. Oh god. Shit. Shit. Shit. Marjorine's heart began racing and her head span.
Her father took one look at her and yelled. "What the hell are you doing, Butters?!"
Marjorine quickly pulled the dress off. Her eyes burned. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Her father glanced at her closet and headed over to it.
Her eyes widened. "Wait, Dad, don't!"
The closet doors were slammed open and her father saw the stash of perfume, makeup, and skirts she had bought for herself over the years. Her father began to throw it from her closet to the floor behind him.
"What is your explanation for all of this?!" Her mother yelled.
Marjorine stayed quiet, too choked up to say anything.
"I swear to god, if you don't answer us right now, you're grounded for a month!" Her father said, dumping a bin of eye shadow palates and lipsticks onto the floor. Colored powder flew everywhere.
Marjorine clenched her fists. "I'm a girl!"
Her father stopped rummaging and the room went silent.
"I-i'm trans. I'm supposed to be a girl." She explained, her voice shaking. She grabbed the sides of her pajama pants, holding them tightly
Her faster raised her hand and suddenly a sharp pain shot through her cheek. She stumbled backward. She looked up at her father whose expression terrified her.
"Oh god. What did we do wrong?" Her mother said, her voice dripping with distaste.
"You're going back to that fucking conversion camp." Her father says, his finger pointing in her face.
"No, please, Dad. I can't." Tears streamed down her burning cheek. "Don't make me, please." Marjorine begged. She'd seen boys kill themselves at that camp, she couldn't go back. If she was kept there long enough she feared she might be driven to do the same.
"Please. No one deserves to be forced-"
Her father grabs her by the hair and she shrieks with pain. He pulls her over to the white chair she had set by her bed. The one where her parents used to sit and read her stories.
Her mother came over with a pair of scissors in hand. "You need to get these stupid ideas of being a transgender out of your head." She grabbed a strand and cut.
"Mom! Stop!" She yelled, pulling away.
Her mother gripped her hair tightly, yanking her back down. "YOU SIT DOWN AND LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!"
Her mother had never raised her voice this way. Marjorine sobbed as she cut more of her year's worth of length off. The blond tufts fell so innocently to the floor.
Behind her, her father threw all the makeup and feminine clothing into a trash bag.
Marjorine shot up, too quick for her mother to grab her again, and grabbed the bag from her dad. He grabbed her wrist, holding so tightly it felt she could feel her bones touching his. He twisted her arm in a way that made her yelp with pain.
"If you don't go to that camp then you will not be welcome here anymore." He said, twisting her arm even further.
"OW! Daddy, please stop it! You're hurting me! Please!" She cried like a small child, begging her father to let go.
Suddenly, he yanked her forward with so much force she almost fell. She screamed in retaliation as he dragged her down the stairs and out the front door, tossing her to the ground.
As she fell onto the cement of their porch walkway, she held her arms out to catch herself, but being so unprepared for the impact, only one hit the ground. She heard a snap.
Before she could realize what it was, her mother tossed out the trash bag of her things onto the grass beside her.
"Don't you dare try to come back until you've fixed your attitude." Her father said before slamming the door, leaving her in the cold.
Marjorine stared at the door, hoping, praying, that they'd open it again and let her inside. Flakes of snow fell onto her head and arms, making her shiver.
"Ah!" She groaned, lifting her left arm.
She nearly screamed when she saw the state it was in. Just below her wrist, her forearm was bent backward.
"Oh my god. Oh my god." She muttered, her breathing speeding up.
She stood, trash bag in her right hand, and made her way down the street as quickly as she could. Her phone was still up in her room, so she had no way to call anyone to pick her up.
She walked for what felt like hours before she made it to the hospital. Once in the ER, a few nurses dropped what they were doing to race to her side. They help her to a bed and she sits down, sighing with exhaustion.
"What happened, dear?" A brunette nurse asks her.
Marjorine stared at the floor a moment, thinking.
"Sweetie?"
"I fell." She decided. "At the park."