Becoming Me - Larry Stylinson

I lay in my queen size bed, a deep purple comforter partially covering my lithe body; a beam of light that had gotten through my curtains illuminated an inch or so of my caramel coloured hair. The morning was quiet; the only sounds the chirping of birds outside the window and the soft clatter of my mother in the kitchen downstairs.

The morning peace was broken suddenly as the piercing noise of the alarm clock startled me out of my sleepy daze. My arm shot out to turn the alarm off, and I rolled over to stare at the ceiling. After a few seconds of bleary staring, I stood up, adjusting the satin, lace trimmed lingerie I had chosen to wear to bed so that it once more covering my thighs the way it was supposed to. I reached for the white robe hanging over my computer chair.

After pulling it on, I headed for the bathroom. It had just turned six, so I knew I would beat my sisters to the shower. A rather evil smirk lit up my face. You would think that having an older brother would mean that my sisters wouldn’t have to compete with me for the bathroom, but they did. I had always liked girly things; my father had often commented on his playing with dolls and make up instead of cars and action figures, and he had simply never grown out of it.

I thought about what I was going to wear as I got into the shower. Grabbing my strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner to wash my hair, and once the conditioner was in I set about shaving my legs. Once that was done I washed the conditioner out of my hair and used my strawberry and vanilla scented body scrub; once that was done my shower was over.

Stepping out onto the now warm tiles, I smiled at myself in the mirror. I grabbed my moisturiser from the shelf, it was strawberry and vanilla scented of course, and slathered it all over myself, I was very proud of the fact that I never had body odour; unlike every other seventeen year old boy. I put my robe back on then, and turned to the mirror. I blow dried his hair and styled it into a perfect quiff.

Then I got to work on my make-up; I started with his foundation, covering every single flaw on my skin, then a little bit of blush. I put on mascara and eyeliner, which I love because it makes my blue eyes pop, and then finally painted my lips a bright red. Smiling at myself, I opened the door to head back to my bedroom, and came face to face with my oldest younger sister Lottie. She was fifteen, and she did not look happy at having to wait to use the bathroom.

“You look great Lou” and it looked like she meant it, she was smiling. “Now get out of the bathroom!” Louis laughed, nodding as I stepped out of her way and back into my room. It really was a girly room; the walls were white, except for one which was a lovely shade of purple, and my bed matched with a purple comforter and lilac pillows. I also had a walk in wardrobe that would make any girl die of jealousy.

I smiled as I stood in the doorway, staring at the racks upon racks of clothes and shoes. When I told my mother, at the age of eleven, that I liked to wear Lottie’s clothes instead of my own, she had understood and had replaced all of my boy clothes with girl ones. I had gotten the amazing wardrobe when I was fourteen, and the bullying had started at school, I had finally outed myself as gay and I was humiliated for it. Of course my mother was there for me, and she was so proud of me for not hiding who I was that she had had my room renovated to add the wardrobe. I had filled it to the brim with amazing clothes.

Stepping inside, I immediately went to my jeans. I decided on a pair of black skinny jeans with white designs on the back pockets, and after discarding my robe and sliding into them I opened one of the draws and ruffled through them to find a suitable shirt; I ended up pulling out a blood red halter top. Even though I didn’t have boobs, I still managed to look good in it; I have a pretty fit body, and the top drew attention to my collar bones and abs. Finally I turned my attention to shoes; though I already knew which ones I would be wearing. I grabbed the pair of black heels from the floor and slipped them onto my feet.