Becoming Her (Trans)

Chapter 30

I know I'm coming home at the wrongest time, judging from the yelling and screaming I can hear through the front door. I wasn't planning to stay out late, but let's face it. After being scared of what others would see under my mask, I had to release a lot of myself.

From the many stares people were giving me, I think they noticed the repression. And how bad I was dancing. Note to self: sign up for dance classes in case for any near-future emergency fun.

My teeth chatter from the cold, and the jacket and pants aren't helping. I scratch at the temple, now that the make-up is off and I don't have to worry about looking like I've been attacked by the Make-Up Scratcher or something. Checking the phone for the time (it's 1:22 am, in case you were wondering), I slowly open the door.

I can see Mom through the crack with her back to me, shaking something in front of Kelly. My sister is doing nothing but cracking her gum and crossing her arms. The something Mom's holding is white with pink splotches all over it.

Kelly, what did you do?

"I thought you didn't want it anymore!" Kelly defends. "I never see you wear it, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I use it."

"Kelly, this is 200 dollars!" Mom screams. "I was waiting for a special event to wear it." When my sister responds by glaring, Mom throws the cloth at her. "The minute you decided to dye your hair again, you threw away the money that I worked hard for!"

Suddenly Kelly looks challenging. "Oh, that you worked hard for? If you really needed the money, then you wouldn't have spent it on one fucking dress!" She then points at the shoes. "What about those? It's perfectly okay for you to take them without telling me?"

"This is has nothing to do with me!"

"Of course it does!" Kelly throws her hands in the air. "It has everything to do with you! You told your own kids that you're our role model, and that we should follow the steps of a role model! Isn't that what you said years ago?!"

I decide at this time to get into the house and break up the fight. This is too much. "I'm home," I say.

Mom whips her head around, her eyes full of fury and ice. "Where the hell were you?!" she demands. "I thought I told you to watch your sister!"

Flinching at the tone now that she's focusing on me, I calmly respond, "Kelly is 15. I figured she should be allowed to be independent at times."

"Well, obviously not! She's decided to use it as a dye catcher because she couldn't be bothered to use her own clothes!" To back up her statement, Mom shows me the cloth.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying something I'd regret later. "Before you left you told me the heels you found were under my bed. Instead of asking, you took them to help you get some date to like you." Trust me when I say I've tried to keep my tone even.

Before Mom gets the chance to scream again I hold up a finger as I keep talking. "You can't blame Kelly for doing something stupid when you did the same to me. Now that you're home, I'd like to have my heels back."

It takes Mom a few seconds to understand what I'm implying. Soon after her jaw drops. "You've never outgrown that phase, have you?" she accuses. "I thought if you were treated as a boy and dressed as a boy you would start thinking of yourself as a boy."

I shake my head. "That's not how it works," I say. "It's not something you can cure, because it's not a sickness." My words must have hit her; her hands are shaking with anger.

"You have no right to tell me what I can't cure! I'll find a way." Behind Mom, Kelly's eyes are wide.

"I'm good. I've already has my ass handed to me on Halloween. Hey, you and the guy should hang out. You two have so much in common." Okay, now I'm just pushing her buttons.

After giving me the most evil glare I've ever seen, Mom huffs and clomps her way to her room. When she gets to the top she kicks the heels off and announces, "I hope he comes back for you." My own jaw drops as her bedroom door slams shut.

Kelly growls. "Even I'm not that bad of a bitch," she says.

I don't bother reminding her of what she's done to the dress. Grabbing the kitchen table chair, I slowly sit down. I slump my shoulders and keep my head down, still in shock. What kind of parent tells their kids they hope the abuser comes back for more?

"Whoa, hey, Miya," Kelly says, taking the chair next to me. For the first time my sister takes my hands out of comfort. "It's going to be alright. I can call a few people tomorrow and see if they're willing to keep you in their house, if not both of us."

"Why not now?" I ask meekly.

Kelly sounds like a calm wiseman when she responds, "It's one in the morning, that's why. I highly doubt any of my friends, or Gwen, will like to answer a call while they're sound asleep." She pauses to think. "Come on, you can sleep in my room. It has more girly things in there than in yours."

I can't help but laugh a little at her reasoning. My sister smiles and takes me up by hand. Similar to the night in her room when Mom and Dad were screaming at each other, I get into the pajamas and grab the blankets.

After setting them in place, I lay down on them and wait for Kelly to turn off the light. She does, and immediately rushes to her bed. A few minutes later, she mutters, "Screw it," gets out of bed and lays down next to me. Within minutes she's snoring. Not long after, so do I.