Out of the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 1

I've never been called pretty, not once in my entire 17 years of life. I thought my mother did one day at the dinner table when we were debating over what college I will attend next year. It's between Colombia University in New York or Princeton in New Jersey, which aren't too far from where we live in Edison. I got accepted to both for a Sociology undergrad.I'm not sure what to minor in, but I have about a year to figure it out.

So yeah, me being called pretty or beautiful has never happened . I understand why, its not usual for a man to want to be called beautiful or sexy unless he's very conceited or having sex I would think. However, it wouldn't hurt once in a while to be casually graced with the title of being pretty. I've been told that I would be a fairly cute girl if I either grew out my hair or got a pixie cut. I have an ideal girly waist, not to curvy but thin enough for me to pass as my twin Mandy.

It's a bonus that I have absolutely no muscles or tone in my arms and legs, which make me seem like an even unmanlier man. It's kind of ironic that I was born so scrawny and womanly considering my name literally means 'Manly', when I'm nowhere near that.

Not now and not ever.

"Andy? Did you grab the mail on the way in? Your sister is expecting a package from some shoe store." I close my front door and walk to my mother, who's on the sofa reading JET magazine, to say good afternoon.

I believe in my mother's next life she'd be a feisty African American woman, who's hands where carved for cooking, unlike my mother's. I say this based on how she is the whitest of mothers, yet especially enjoys reading, watching, and listening to anything from or by an African American person. I find it amusing that she's a committed fan.

She works at home as a writer, and only leaves the comfort of home for her morning chai tea with milk or to walk Splats, our cat. Yes, the cat needs to be walked, everyday, after the 5 years of being overfed. She's on a strict diet, the doctor's orders.

I kiss the top of my mother's head then head for the kitchen to get an apple and drop the mail on the counter.

"Yeah I picked it up. No box though." I sift through the fridge and find the last pink milk left hidden towards the back.

Mandy can't hide for shit.

"Hmmm okay thank you, Andy. Oh by the way, you have hormone therapy tonight. It's the third to last meeting with Dr. Martin. You excited?"

"I guess." That's right. I'm almost done with Hormone Replacement Therapy and a couple of months ago I got my breast augmentation surgery, so this is really happening.

I'm becoming a girl.

After having to go to psychological counseling for all of eighth grade, then having estrogens for the past four years, which I still take in daily injections, and now about to finish my hormone therapy; It's all about to come true.

I can finally be me.

For the longest time I've known that something was off. I always wanted to hang out with my sister, play with her toys and wear her clothes. I saw nothing wrong with it nor did my parents, until I went to school in third grade dressed in a girl's uniform rather a boy's. Pants were, and still are constricting. I love the freedom that comes with a skirt or dress. That whole day they mistaked me as Mandy, just with short unruly hair. My best friend called me pretty and even Simon, the cutest guy in class, said that my headband I wore that day was awesome.

I was estatic when he said that. It made me very happy and I think it was when I started liking him in that way.

But the glory and happiness I felt all came to a crashing end when a girl decided to rat me out.Saying that I was Andy, indeed, Mandy's younger twin brother. They all knew it, but didn't think to act out on it, considering I was cute. After that and many more attempts, my mother and father had a long chat with me on how I felt and what it was they could do. I told them how it didn't feel me to be a boy, that I wasn't supposed to have a dick weighing me down.

They were a little confused and shocked but, quickly called doctors to really understand me. I explained to countless doctors how I'm supposed to be a woman and such. Most thought it was just a faze or that I'm simply confused. You know, puberty. However, some doctors like Dr. Lea recognized my desire and started the intense therapy that made sure I was both mentally and physically prepared.

I got to wear women's clothing, participate in things men probably wouldn't do, act like a woman, all these things to prepare me for my transformation. I am now one step closer,I am not flat chested like a boy anymore; Certified C-Cup. The progestogens and estrogen are helping to enhance the shape of my breast and have made me hungrier than ever.I've gained about fifty pounds since I started them, aroung my hips. Dr. Lea said that it was natural, that it will work towards a more feminine shape. I'm glad but I feel very oily in my face due to it.

I might have to use Proactive if I breakout.

"Well you should be happy. I know your father and I are. One less bill every month." I walk through the kitchen and head upstairs to drop my stuff in my room, going to take a shower.

My parents are supportive, but I guess they would love reassurance that they didn't just waste thousands of dollars on me for nothing. I go to the bathroom, take off my undies, and slip my dress over my head. I stare at myself in the mirror. Everything looks perfect in the mirror. My face is rounded and small like a girl, I have a pixie cut like a girl, and I sport breast like a girl. Yet, when I look down, past what the mirror sees, there lies the demon stick I call a penis.

It doesn't matter now, it's not like anyone would see it unless someone coped a feel at me, and noticed. I'm washing my hair when there's a bang at the door.

"Andy! You drank the last strawberry milk carton! I was going to save it for tomorrow you ass!" Mandy bangs one more time then I hear her footsteps become faint.

She was never good at hiding, nor am I.

A/N

Picture of Andy. Kind of imagine her as a boy before.