How I Became The Baddest Girl In Clarksville free porn video

How I became the baddest girl in Clarksville - Dear John- It began with a note and the house. If I hadn't been so curious about that place, or so infatuated with Monica, things might have turned out differently. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy who I am. But when I'm alone, I wonder what life would be like without the change. I guess it's like Frank says, "shit happens." I was raised in Sacramento where people knew me as John. Sacramento was a cool place where there was always something going on. I shot hoops, rode bikes, and swam in the university pool where my dad taught biochemistry, all under the warm California sun. But my passion was visiting the comic book stores. I was heavily into comics. The ones about mad scientists, time travel and stuff like that. Sacramento had some great shops and I built a pretty nice collection. One day, I came home with a copy of Outer Limits published by Dell. The book was pretty battered and missing all of page two and over half of page five. But I couldn't have been more stoked. In mint condition this issue sold for several hundred dollars. I'd literally gotten it for the price of a haircut. By that I mean I'd spent the money my mother gave me to get my hair cut on the comic. I knew I'd be in trouble when she found out but it was too much of a prize to pass up. As I turned into our driveway I barley missed connecting with my dad's car. What was he doing home? As a precaution I stuffed the comic under my shirt before going in. I spotted mom and dad in the living room as I crept past. Mom's puffy eyes and streaked makeup told me she'd been crying. "But you're tenured," she said. "They can't just let you go, Steve. It's illegal." "They can if they eliminate my department, and that's what they did. They're doing it all over the state. The state can't pay its bills. Only core course professors are safe." I'd seen foreclosure notices around the city. Now that dad was out of a job would it happen to us? Climbing the stairs to my room, feeling guilty for wasting money we needed for bills, I found my brother Tyler perched on the second floor landing. "Mom and dad are fighting," he said, his eyes alive with excitement, "Dad got fired." Then he saw the comic in my hand. "You got a new comic! I thought you didn't have any money." He glanced at my shaggy hair. "You spent the money mom gave you for a haircut on a comic book. Wait till I tell mom." He jumped to his feet. "You can't," I said. "Yes I can. Watch me." "I'll pay you not to." Tyler's eyes narrowed. "How much?" I dug into my pocket and pulled out the change I had left after my purchase, two crinkled one-dollar bills. I handed them to him. "You owe me two more," he said, pocketing the money. I put the comic away, angry with Tyler for blackmailing me. I was considering the idea of kicking him down the stairs, weighing the odds of him breaking his neck, when I heard Dad calling. He said he had some bad news. * * * * * A month later, we set off for Clarksville. Clarksville's only claim to fame was its fertilizer plant--the largest in the world. After failing to find another teaching position my dad accepted a job in their research department, developing new types of fertilizer. I watched the scenery change from boring too more boring as we rolled along to our new home. To make things worse my now semi-long hair kept getting in my eyes, my mother's punishment for buying the issue of "Outer Limits" "If I can't trust you with money," she'd scolded, "you'll have to do without haircuts." I couldn't decide what was worse, leaving a great town for the fertilizer capital of the world, looking like a sissy with my long hair, or my mother's continual reminders of how I couldn't be trusted. When we reached the Clarksville, I was pleasantly surprised. I'd expected Mayberry RFD with Barney, Goober and the gang waving us in. Clarksville was nothing like that. It was modern with a mall, a nice park and a movieplex. I saw lots of guys my age but more importantly, girls. There were girls everywhere. One of my goals in Sacramento was to land a girlfriend like my buddies had. So far I'd been unsuccessful. Maybe Clarksville was the place it would happen. I began to think Clarksville might not be so bad. Part of the deal with dad's new employer was they find us a house. Ours was an old Victorian, nestled amongst oaks and elms in a cul-de sac in a remote part of town. Only one other house occupied our little roundabout. It was a big rambling affair with an overgrown lawn and dark windows. I could easily see the house through the second story window of my room. As my eye traced towering gables and the steep pitched roof of the old Victorian, I imagined a secret laboratory inside. A place where electricity crackled across terminals casting grotesque shadows while a tall thin man in a lab coat worked over a body covered in white sheets. It was the kind of place a comic book nerd could love. A few days after our move, I began my junior year at the local high school. Like the town, Clarksville High was clean and modern though not particularly friendly. The end of my first day left me uptight and disheartened. No one spoke to me; instead everyone swerved around me like I was an obstacle to be avoided. Even the teachers acted annoyed. Friday arrived marking the end of my first week at Clarksville High and I still had no friends. I was moving through the halls in friendless zombie fashion, feeling depressed. The buzz of high school conversation, I was not a part of, swirled around me like a whirlwind. Then I noticed a skinny kid peel himself from the stream of flowing bodies. He angled my way, maneuvering effortlessly through the press moving in the opposite direction. He motioned to me and I followed him out of the human traffic and into a niche between banks of lockers. "That's a radical shirt!" he exclaimed poking at my chest.. I glanced down at the tee I was wearing. It was a black with a reproduction of Strange Tales issue 73 on the front. I'd picked it up at the comic con in Sacramento in another life. . "I've got the comic book that goes with it," I said. "Awesome," said the kid. He extended a hand. "My name's Cal." I wanted to shout. I'd been friended. Cal had crazy red hair, a spray of freckles across his nose and an easy smile and we hit if off immediately. I learned Cal's family was originally from Modesto. His father did consulting work. They had moved here because his father wanted a quieter, simpler environment. "It's not such a bad place," Cal said. "It just takes awhile for people to get to know you. Once they do, you'll do fine." Cal was into comics and I invited him to see my collection. When I spread the books out on my bed he was impressed with how many I had. He confessed he had only started collecting recently and only had a few. I decided to do something nice and gave Cal a few of my less expensive duplicates. He was still thanking me when his parents came to pick him up. I spent the rest of the evening going through my comics, checking their protective plastic covers, putting them in a semblance of order. I'd tossed them together to make the move to Clarksville. I must have nodded off because I woke with my head on my desk and comics scattered everywhere. The digital clock showed two in the morning. I levered myself up to undress and go to bed when a flash of light through my window caught my eye. My first thought was I'd imagined it because I was half asleep. Then it flashed again. I shuffled to the window and looked out. It was difficult to see with my bedroom light casting a glare on the windowpanes. But by shielding my eyes I was able to make out two figures across the street. They were searching around the Barnes house with flashlights. One of the figures tapped the other's shoulder and pointed up at me. Freaked, I backed away from the window. How did they see me? Then I realized my bedroom light was on making me visible to anyone who cared to look. I switched off the light and then returned to the window, but they were gone. -Storm Warnings- Monday, standing in the lunch line I was about to tell Cal what I'd seen over the weekend when the most beautiful girl in school, Monica Bond pushed past us. It was game day and the cheerleaders were in uniform. Monica's fit her perfectly. Every thought in my head melted away as Monica's sweetly swaying ass filled my vision. Heaven. I felt stiffness in my groin. Glancing down I saw I had a huge boner. When I looked up again the heavyset lunch lady at the cash register was studying my erection. "You're holding up the line," she said in a dry tone. "Move it asshole," someone said, nudging me roughly with their shoulder. I carried my tray to the cashier, gave her my lunch number along with $2.25. "Pervert," she said, taking my money. I hurried away toward an empty table, my face a bright red. "Dude, I thought your eyes would explode you were staring at Monica so hard." Cal said, placing his tray next to mine before dropping down beside me. I scanned the cafeteria for a last glance of my dream girl but she was at the other end, too far away, so I turned on Cal. "You can't tell me Monica doesn't give you a hard on. She's gorgeous." "I know enough not to get a boner in front of the entire school," he said. "Dude, people are talking about you. What they're saying is not cool." "People can get fucked," I said, picking at my lunch -- tuna salad and fruit suspended in a reddish gel. When silence between us became oppressive, I decided to say what I'd intended in the lunch line. "Something strange happened the other night at that vacant house across the street." I told him about the figures with flashlights. Cal looked at me and I was surprised to see his ever-present smile gone. Now his lips were pressed into a grim line. "Forget what you saw, John," he said. He glanced around furtive like. The nearest kids were several seats down. Even so he hooked a hand around my arm and pulled me close. "You don't want to go messing with things in Clarksville." "Why is the bogeyman gonna come after me?" I asked, jokingly. Cal let out this long sigh and rolled his eyes. Then he took a breath, his grip on my arm tightened. "What I'm about to tell you stays between us," he said, clutching my arm like a vice. If he squeezed any harder he'd snap bone. "Dude, you're killing my arm," I said. "Look dude," he said, his eyes hard, like chips of blue diamond. "You haven't been here long enough to know how it works. Don't go poking around. Clarksville is not like other towns," he whispered. "It's fake." "It's what?" Cal winced. I'd asked too loudly. "Shhhhh. Damnit. It's not a real town.' "It sure as hell looks like one," I said, careful to whisper. "Subterfuge. They want outsiders to think it's a regular place." "Who?" "The Government, dummy." "That's crazy," I said. "Is it? You're father is a biochemist, but they offered him a job in the fertilizer plant. Think about it, John. What does biochemistry have to do with cow shit? Nothing. They're doing something else there." Before I could point out to Cal they hired my dad to develop new types of fertilizer the bell rang. We picked up our trays and joined the migration to fourth period My next chance to talk to Cal was in Art Appreciation, the last period of the day. The teacher Mr. Connors was one year from retirement and had already retired as far as teaching was concerned. We spent our time watching art documentaries ripped from A&E and solving word search puzzles he printed off on the schools copy machine. It was the perfect class to set Cal straight about what he'd said at lunch. As I was about to enter the classroom one of the football players caught up with me. Even without his varsity jersey I would have spotted him for a jock. He had all the telltale features, no neck, heavy brow and beady eyes. "You Tetras?" he asked. "Tet-ra" I corrected. "I got a message for you from Bradley Conrad." I didn't know many people at Clarksville High but every one knew Bradley. He was one of those people you see in teen magazine ads with perfect features, like a blond superman or a young Adonis or what ever. But more than that, Bradley was the most popular boy at Clarksville High. He was co-captain of the varsity football team, president of the junior class and a half dozen other clubs I hadn't bothered to pay attention to. His father was also the head of the R&D unit of the fertilizer plant where my dad worked. "I don't even know Bradley," I said, playing ignorant. "You been getting' boners off his girl, like in the cafeteria today. Bradley's real pissed about it." "That's his message?" I asked trying to hide my embarrassment that everybody in the entire school seemed to know about my hard -on. "He said to tell you to enjoy your prick while you can." "What's that suppose to mean?" I asked, but he was already walking away. I spent the rest of the day wondering what Bradley planned and forgot about Cal altogether. -Secret Admirer- "What's that?" Cal asked, walking my way from the lunch counter. It was Tuesday and I was hunched over a typed sheet of copy paper, crisscrossed with creases, my tray of half eaten lunch shoved to the opposite side of the table The paper smelled faintly of perfume. I'd found the note shoved through one of the vents in the door of my locker that morning, hanging by a corner, waiting. It took a moment to work it free. Because I was late for class I put it in my pocket. "It's just a stupid note I found," I said, refolding the paper before Cal could read it. "What'd say?" "More Bradley shit," I lied. "Dude, I heard about that," Cal said, before taking a bite of his taco. Tuesdays meant Mexican at Clarksville High. "Are you worried?" "Well....duh. Wouldn't you be." Cal nodded. We spent the rest of the period talking comics. That night, with my bedroom door closed to keep out Tyler's prying eyes, I reread the note: I heard you like me. I like you too. P.S. I think your boners are cute. M. M. could only be Monica Bond and she liked me! She said so in neat inkjet-manufactured type. I sniffed the perfumed scented paper again before stashing it in my desk drawer. Wednesday morning I found a second note in my locker. This time I didn't wait for lunch. I unfolded the paper then leaned into my locker to read it in private. Would you be willing to meet after school on Friday? Leave your answer on top of your locker. Talk later. M. I scribbled my answer-- yes-- on a sheet of paper, folded it, and put it on top of my locker; just far enough back that it wouldn't be noticed. The rest of the day was a struggle, listening to my teachers drone in what may as well have been Urdu. What I wanted to do was pace, to climb the walls, to know where this was going with Monica. I was down the stairs at my locker before the last bell finished its ring. I felt sweaty, anxious and my hands fumbled with my locker combination so I had to clear and redial before I could get it opened. Finally I swung the door wide and... nothing. There was no note, only the gray of empty space. I checked the vents and then around my feet in case I'd knocked the note to the floor when I slung the door open. Maybe she hadn't picked up my note, yet. That thought lifted my spirits a little. I felt along the top of my locker. The note was gone. By the time the school bus dropped me off on my street my disappointment had morphed to anger. Monica was screwing with me and I was pretty sure Bradley was in on it. The next morning I was still pissed. When Cal saw my mood he made excuses for not hanging out, something about a test first period he had to study for. That was fine by me -- I didn't want company anyway. I worked the combination without enthusiasm. I would have avoided a locker stop altogether, except I'd accidentally left my calculator there yesterday. I opened my locker and stood there looking dumb. Lying on top of my stack of textbooks was a square of folded paper. I stood there staring when I was pushed from behind hard enough I banged my head. Dazed. I turned around to find Bradley standing a foot away. His face was livid with hate. "That's for starters," he said, and then he stormed off, shoving through the crowd of students on their way to class. I grabbed the note along with my calculator and then slung my book bag over my shoulder. Tucking the note safely in my pocket I headed to first period. Later, barricaded inside a stall in the boy's restroom, I lowered the toilet seat, sat and unfolded the note. My hands were trembling as I began to read: John, I'm glad you want to meet up. There's this place--an old house near the edge of town where kids go to make out. Be there at 9:00. M. Attached to the note was a small computer generated map of Clarksville. A series of connecting streets created a path from the school to a dead end marked with an X. The words "meet here" were handwritten beside it. I recognized the place immediately. Monica wanted to meet me at the Barnes House. I almost shouted I was so excited. Then I remembered how Bradley shoved me earlier. If he found out that Monica and I were passing notes and planning to meet - well, to say things would get ugly would be an understatement. Was I ready to face my death over a girl -or at least receive a major beating that could easily land me in the hospital? Maybe, or maybe it was time to fight back. -The Barnes House- The Barnes house stood a good distance from the street. I followed the driveway, weaving through the weeds and grass jutting up from cracks in the century old pavement, to where the driveway curved to form a horseshoe. From here the house was still thirty or forty feet away. I studied the structure presenting itself in silhouette against the night. It was almost too much to believe that Monica was waiting for me inside. I'd never had a girl friend and the closest I ever had to having sex with one was the times I masturbated with aid of a couple of old playboys I'd found in the trash back in Sacramento. The thought of a girl, any girl might be interested in me caused my head to spin. The fact that the girl was Monica, the girl of my dreams, seemed like a dream itself. I started moving again, faster now, covering the remaining distance to the house. My luck had been great. Tyler was spending the night with a friend and mom and dad were eating out and then planned to see a late movie. So it was easy to sneak out and cross the street to my rendezvous when the clock approached nine. The front of the house was completely boarded up, the windows and doorway sealed with plywood. I followed the side of the house to the rear searching for a way in. As I rounded the corner I saw the back door stood open. A greenish glow spilled across the threshold from within. A quick look inside revealed a hallway lined with glow-sticks, those thin plastic rods you bend to produce a sort of phosphorus light. Mom had supplied Tyler and me with them for Halloween outings in years past. I had to admit they solved the problem of navigating through a dark house. Monica seemed full of surprises. The wooden steps creaked under my weight as I mounted them and then passed through the back door into the house. The glow sticks with their sickly green light cast my shadow across faded wallpaper while the floor groaned each time I took a step. What looked like a really cool place from my bedroom window was starting to creep me out now. Why would anyone think this was a good place to make out? And where was Monica? I continued down the hallway toward the front. "Monica are you here? " I called first softly then louder. I heard a giggle up ahead around a dark corner. I moved faster. "Monica quit playing games," I yelled. Another giggle. Closer. I rounded the corner and found myself in a large, high ceiling room with a ruined staircase. A jumble of furniture covered in mildew gray sheets was scattered about. Chairs rested on their backs while a love seat faced the wall. Someone had punched a dozen holes in one wall. The same person or someone else had spray painted the word "BITCH" in large letters to finish the job. I looked at the rickety stairs. Three of the steps were missing halfway up. The entire staircase had pulled away from the landing and sagged a good foot below making access to second floor impossible. I'd reached a dead end. "Monica, you can come out from where ever you're hiding," I yelled, anger rising inside of me. "I'm tired of playing games." "So am I," said a male voice behind me. I spun around. Standing about ten feet away was Bradley Conrad. He wore some kind of strange shapeless hat on his head. In his hand he held a glass tube. He was grinning. "Where is Monica?" I said. "Monica? Monica doesn't even know you exist fuck-wad," Bradley laughed. His perfect white teeth flashed in the light of the glow sticks. "I wrote those notes, and you fell for it like a dumb ass." "Why?" I was confused. "Payback," he said. "And it starts now." He reached up and gave the thing on his head a tug. As he pulled it over his face, I realized it was a gas mask. He slung the glass tube at the floor shattering the glass. There was a flash of light and then several thin ribbons of smoke rose from out of the shards. They circled Bradley's legs as they thickened. In moments Bradley was hidden behind a cloud of white and I could detect a faint odor, like a mix of mint and citrus. The room began to fill with white fog until I couldn't see Bradley at all. I wasn't even sure he was still in the house. I didn't know what all this was about but I thought it was time to get out. I stumbled through the thick cloud of white bumping into furniture until I made contact with one of the walls. Praying I was going in the right direction I followed it. Whatever the white cloud was made of, it was affecting my ability to think y. My mind began to meander. I had to concentrate to remember where I was. I have no idea how long I wandered lost inside the Barnes house but eventually I tumbled out the back door into the yard. I sucked fresh air into my lungs trying to clear my head still cluttered with disjointed thoughts. I could feel the effects of the fog on my face and hands, the smell of minty citrus strong in my nose. I wanted to get home and shower it off. Struggling to my feet, I stumbled several times in my attempts to walk. Finally I managed to cross the street to my own yard, staggering much of the way. When I reached our door I had to remember how to work a doorknob. The last thing I remember was the surprised look on my parents face as I opened the door and fell inside. -It's a Girl- I felt like I was submerged in a sea of darkness slowly floating to its surface. I continued to rise, my awareness becoming more acute until I broke the surface, opening my eyes. I was in what I immediately recognized as a hospital room. A bag dangling from an IV stand dripped liquid into a vein in my left forearm. A heart monitor flashed and beeped on a stand beside it. The large woman in a white nurses uniform must of heard me shifting around because she closed the book she was reading and set it aside. "Well hello, there," she said, smiling as she eased out of her chair. "I see we finally decided to wake up." "Where am I?" I asked, my voice sounded high and thin, not like me at all. "You're in the county hospital in Pine Grove. You had quite a nap. Let me get your mom and the doctor." I watched her open the door and speak to someone out of my range of vision in the hall.. "Tell Mrs. Tetras and Doctor Swanson Katherine is awake." Katherine? What the hell was that suppose to mean. My hair had gotten kind of long since my mom quit giving me haircut money. Some of the kids at school made jokes, calling me miss or ma'am. But I still didn't appreciate the nurse screwing with me about it. Weren't adults above that? "My name is John," I said. "I'm a bo--" I let the rest of the sentence drop, she was back into her book pretending not to hear. While I waited for mom, I stared at the ceiling then studied the IV in my left arm. That's when I noticed of how thin my arm looked. My hand seemed tiny. I compared my right arm with my left -- same thing, skinny forearm and tiny hand. I wasn't a big guy but I wasn't a weakling either. I checked my upper arm shocked to find no definition of muscle at all, just a skinny arm. What the fuck had happened? Just then, Mom rushed into the room and swept me up in a big hug. Her body seemed huge compared to mine, her arms incredibly long the way they wrapped around me. But it was my chest I was most aware of. It felt swollen and squishy pressed against Mom. She released me and I fell back against the mattress trying to sort out all this strangeness. "Oh honey, we were so worried," she said. "We didn't know if you would wake up." "What going on, Mom?" There was that thin high-pitched voice again. A wave of emotion swept over me. I felt tears stream from my eyes. Why in the hell was I crying? "What's wrong with my voice? Why do my arms look funny?" Mom looked away, as if she were afraid to answer. "There is something wrong with me isn't there," I said, regaining control as I brushed away my tears with a skinny forearm. "Actually, there's nothing wrong with you," said a silver haired man wearing a long white lab coat over a dress shirt and tie. A stethoscope dangled from his neck. He carried a clipboard in his left hand. "Except for being unconscious for two days you're in perfect health." "I'm Doctor Swanson," he said, edging to the bed. "And you're..." he glanced at his clipboard. "Katherine Tetras." I felt my face go flush. This female stuff was starting to piss me off. "Why do people keep calling me Katherine," I cried. "First the nurse and now you." "Because that's your name," said Doctor Swanson. "Or would you prefer to be called by your middle name, Alexandria?" "My name is John," I said. "No honey," said my mom. "You're my daughter. Your voice sounds different because you're a girl. Katherine Alexandria is the name your father and I picked out if we were ever to have a girl child. Now we do." "My voice is different because I've been sick," I said. I refusing to believe what my mother and the doctor were saying. It was too crazy. It had to be a joke they were playing on me. "Besides. If my body was that different I would feel it and I don't. I feel regular," This was true. If I had a girl's body now I should feel things added and other things missing but I didn't." Doctor Swanson smiled the way people do when they see you just don't get it. "Your mother's telling you the truth, but see for yourself." He took my right hand and placed it on one side of my chest then the other. I felt two small firm mounds the size of a large apples. "See, you have breasts. They're not over large but definitely noticeable. You also have a vagina." I jerked my hand away and he laughed "Don't worry," he said, "I'm not going to have you explore down there in front of us. But I hope you do in private. The sooner you become familiar with you new body the better." "Actually, you're very pretty," he said, handing me a mirror. I looked at my reflection and sucked in my breath at what I saw. There was no mistaking the face in the mirror was a girl. She was a couple of years younger than me with honey blond hair, a small nose dotted with freckles, and blue eyes. More amazing, she could have been my brother's twin. "H-h-how --? " I couldn't finish my thought; this was too insane, too impossible to be real. "I want to introduce you to someone who can answer your questions," said Doctor Swanson. "He's only down the hall but I think it's best if you make the trip in a wheel char for now. Nurse could you help me remove the IV and catheter." I winced as the needle was extracted from my arm. Dr. Swanson applied a wad of cotton held in place with surgical tape where the needle had been, while the nurse removed the catheter. As she did, I felt a tingle between my legs where my scrotum should have been. The first sensation I was different down there. The nurse handed me a robe to cover my hospital gown and then helped me from the bed into a wheelchair. Dr. Swanson took the chair from the nurse and pushed me into the hall. "Why isn't my mom with us?" I asked, feeling nervous. "I know a lot has happened Katherine and you have every right to feel strange and insecure. Where we're going will only take a few minutes then we'll rejoin your mom and see about getting you out of here and back home," He said, pushing the chair past an empty nurses station. There was no sign of anyone anywhere. "Where is everybody?" I asked."There should be people around." "This floor has been er...quarantined. "Trust me, you will understand everything in a few minutes." Doctor Swanson pushed me through the empty hallway past several empty rooms before stopping in front of a closed door. He rapped on the door. I heard footsteps, the door opened. A man in a fedora and dark glasses signaled us in, locking the door behind us. The only furnishings were two straight back chairs flanking a small table stacked with papers.The man took a seat in one of the chairs and Doctor Swanson sat in the other. I sat in the wheelchair facing them. "You must be Katherine," said the man. "Or is it Kat?" "I want to be called Alex," I said alluding to my new middle name. "Short for Alexandria," said the man. He looked at Dr. Swanson and smiled "She's got spunk, Charlie." He looked back at me. "You can call me Frank. I'm sure you're wondering how you eh...went to sleep as one person and woke up another. I'm also sure Charlie hasn't told you. He turned to the sheaf of papers piled on the table. After shuffling through them for a minute he extracted a photo and showed it to me. "Do you know this person, Alex?" he asked. I glanced at the photo. "Yeah, it's Bradley Conrad." The man in the dark glasses nodded. "Bradley Conrad infected you with a virus. Its code name is 'Adam to Eve.' It alters the DNA sequence in males. The Y chromosome disappears wiping away all male characteristics at an accelerated rate, so the infected body becomes fully female. How it works is not important. It was developed to demoralize Chinese troops should we ever go to war with them." "How do you know Bradley infected me?" I asked. I thought I knew the answer, he'd used the white fog to engulf me while protecting himself with his gas mask. "We found traces of it in the vacant house next door to yours," Frank said. "I'm not going to ask why you were there but we know both you and Bradley were. We also know Bradley had it in for you." "But that's not important," Frank continued. "What is important is that the government has gone to great lengths to hide 'Adam to Eve's' existence. You and Bradley have made keeping it a secret, difficult." "So your saying the fact that my life is now totally fucked doesn't matter," I said. "As long as you can keep your crazy virus under the radar." I could sense Frank's eyes radiate anger through his dark glasses. "Shit happens, Alex. Deal with it." The words bit into me and I felt the tears threaten to spill out all over again. I promised myself he wasn't going to see me cry,. To cover my emotions I attempted to play the tough girl. "That's a good one, Frank," I said. "If you had done your job I wouldn't have to deal with anything. I mean how does a high school kid end up with some super-secret formula thing to begin with? Isn't that stuff supposed to be kept in a vault in some government instillation? So how did Bradley get it?" "That's not important," said Frank, his voice dry. Everything was suddenly coming together in my head. It exactly as Cal had described. "I think I know," I said, feeling excited. "The fertilizer plant is not really a fertilizer plant at all, is it? It's where you're doing research on this warfare stuff. That's why you wanted my dad, because he's a biochemist. Bradley's dad works there too. And that's how Bradley got the virus. He got it from his father." I knew I'd gotten it right because suddenly Frank was on his feet, his hands clenched into fists. When he spoke his lips drew back reveling small yellow teeth. "I'm going to give you a word of advice, kid. There are worse things than being a girl. You keep nosing around and you're going to find that out." Dr. Swanson was looking worried, unsure of what to do. He jumped up waving his hand as if he was flagging down a taxi. "Easy Frank," he said. "No harm no foul." Frank unclenched his hands and took a breath. "Get her out of here," he said in little more than a whisper. Dr. Swanson grabbed the back of my chair and began to wheel me toward the door when Frank called my name. "Alex, if this gets out, we'll come for you first." -Finding Alex- On the way back to my room I told Dr. Swanson I wanted to try to walk. He agreed it was a good way for me to get my strength back after my two-day coma. He helped me out of my chair and guided me to the handgrips on the back. "You can use the chair as a walker," he said. "Start slowly, and remember you body is different, now. Your hips are wider so your center of gravity is different." As I pushed off I could feel a difference in my stride and it took a moment to adjust to my new body. By the time we reached the nurses station I was walking more confidently pushing the chair instead of supporting myself with it. Then I came to a halt. "I gotta pee," I said meekly. "If you can wait until we get to your room I'll get a nurse to help you," he said. "Can't," I said, and quickly backtracked toward the unisex bathroom we'd passed. I was relieved to find the door unlocked. I stepped in and stood before the toilet bowl as I lifted my gown and reached for my member. I found only a cleft beneath a small furry mound where my dick should have been. Then I remembered I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Though I'd never seen a girl pee, I knew from conversations with my friends they peed sitting. I hiked my gown up and plopped my butt on the toilet wondering what to do next. After a moment of thinking pee I heard a hissing sound and realized I was emptying my bladder. When I was done I felt proud though the finished process left me wet and messy. I pulled off several sheets of toilet paper wadded them into a ball and dabbed awkwardly until I'd sopped up the majority of the dampness, Then I flushed and walked back to where Dr. Swanson waited. "I think you're well enough we can release you, Alex," said Dr. Swanson noting I was walking pretty well now. "I'd like to get you away from here as soon as possible." "Because of Frank," I said, remembering his rage toward me. "You'll have to forgive the Colonel--er.. Frank. He's... well.... all of us really are having to deal with some eh...unforeseen events." "You mean me," I said. "The boy that became a girl." "That's the easy part it." He smiled. "John Tetras is the person of interest. You're his sister. A normal fourteen year old girl who has just arrived from Sacramento to join her family in Clarksville." "Fourteen! I'm seventeen, my brother, Tyler is fourteen." "The virus has a regressive element. It causes you to age backwards," said Dr. Swanson, "We've created a birth certificate, social security card, and a transcript from your former school for you. We matched the date on your birth certificate to match your body's development. But there's a second benefit as well, by enrolling as a freshman, you'll avoid your former classmates who might have questions about what happened to John. We'll provide the documents to your parents when you're released to go home later today. As far as John's concerned, everyone knows about his passion for comics. He's been offered a scholarship to a prestigious high school specializing in visual arts, out of state. The problem is dealing with Bradley and his father. We think it's best if Bradley believes the Adam to Eve virus was ineffective. At least until we can determine why Bradley's father was smuggling samples of the virus to his home. Once we know why we'll know what to do next." Two hours later, dressed in a pair of Tyler's jeans and a tee shirt he'd outgrown from a couple of years ago, I left the hospital. Mom had packed the clothes away meaning to give them to charity. Lucky for me she forgot. With my diminished height and small frame my clothes when I was John were impossibly big on me. I was also wearing a pair of his old tennis shoes. The jeans fit pretty well except the hips. But even wearing two pair of socks the shoes were too large. . At least they didn't look like clown shoes on my now tiny feet. Unlike the baggy hospital gown, the tee shirt did nothing to hide my boobs. To my embarrassment, they poked from beneath the thin cloth like two small, perfectly shape mounds. As mom and I walked across the hospital parking lot to our car, she spewed an unceasing chatter of how we would have to go shopping for skits, dresses, and of course panties and bras. There was an element of excitement in her voice and I suspected she was happy about what happened to me. Before I left, Dr. Swanson's encouraged me to try and look at things in a positive way. He assured me over time, I would begin to think more like a girl until the transition was complete. I wasn't sure if I believed him. But even if he was right, was this what I wanted? And there was Tyler and my dad. How would they treat me now? When we reached our car, I slipped into the passengers seat exhausted. Mom backed out of our parking space allowing me one last look at the place where the change began when I noticed a man's face peering out of a fourth floor window. The face wore dark glasses and was frowning. He raised a hand, fingers curled index finger extended, thumb straight up mimicking a pistol. Then he cocked his hand as if he were firing a shot directly at me. I thought the face might be Frank. End of Chapter One. Chapter two coming soon.