After the first six months, Brett's austerity program continued but with a little bit of relief. I think we were all proud of each other. We had pulled together and saved our home.
By then, I'd fallen in with a group of girls at school who were a bit rough, but provided me with protection from bullying. Brett and Jason had also helped me in that regard.
One of my friends gave me an old school skirt of hers; then I got a few items from others. Next it was a touch of lipstick and so it went on. By the end of the year, I was indistinguishable from my girlfriends.
Brett caught me crying. "What's up, sis?"
"Look at me, Brett. What do you see?" I demanded in a weepy voice.
"I see a pretty girl."
"And that's the trouble. I'm a girl, but I'm not a real girl. I'm a boy in a dress. It's all so bloody useless." I was despairing.
"Robbie, what do you want to be?"
I chewed my bottom lip, trying to stop my tears. "I don't think I've got a choice anymore, Brett. I feel like a girl, I act like a girl, everything about me screams 'girl'. I can't go back; the idea terrifies me. Oh, Brett, what can I do, what can I do?"
The tears came again. Brett took my hand, "Tell me what you want, Robbie, say it to me."
I took a big breath, "I want to be a girl, Brett. I want to always be a girl."
"Okay," he said, "that means hormones and all the other stuff."
"It costs too much, Brett. I looked it up on the net at school, we can't afford it."
"I know it costs a bundle, I looked it up myself, but we have to try. The rest of us owe it to you, sis. We have to find a way to help you somehow."
"Oh, Brett," I threw my arms around him, "what would I do without you?"
YOU ARE READING
Robin
Short StoryA transgender journey through family tragedy and difficulty, but there is some humour and, of course, a happy ending.
