Salvation
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Salvation
Written by Dauphin
http://dauphinsworld.activeboard.com/
[email protected]
Act one
Those were the days.
We can all remember a time, when things were like being in Utopia. When
life was so good, we never thought about being sad. For me this was when
my Mum lived here. Then we were a family.
Mum was the happy one in the family. She was always cheerful and making
pies and things. I know this sounds a bit corny, but that's the way she
was. At least that's the way I remember her. I remember when she read me
bedtime stories and tucked me in bed. She would always smile and say I was
sweet.
Then we have my Dad. He was always trying to teach me sport. He used to
come home with toys that all boys would love to have. You know, like
racecar sets and football game and PlayStation 2. I would jump up and down
when I saw them, but it always ended that Dad played the games more than I
did and I would play with my sister. Her toys were far more fun and she
didn't mind if I used them. In fact she encouraged it.
That was my sister. She was 3 years older than me, but I think that she
considered me her little sister. The old family story goes that she used
to tell Mum when I was in her stomach that I was a girl, and when I was
born she could see I was a boy, but she was not sad, she just said that I
had long hair for a baby and I could be her baby sister. Mum tried and
tried to tell her that I was a boy. After some time, my sister accepted
it. Well somewhat.
She still dressed me in her old clothes and we played with her toys. I
will not be like others that write stories, and say that I was a girl in a
boy's body. I was not. I was simply a boy that played that he was a girl
once a while with his big sister. I do admit that I loved the pretty
dresses and felt like a girl with them on. I was young, I didn't know the
difference. But I loved playing with my sister.
It is said when we miss a person, we only think about the good times that
we had together. We remember it as a time of smiles and laughter.
Then when I was 7, tragedy entered my life. Mum got cancer. I didn't like
that Mum was sick. I would always ask her to play or if we could do
something together. Mum knew that I was confused. She spent as much time
with me as possible. I heard people say that Mum didn't have that much
time left, that she would die. At that age, I didn't know what death was.
Death was something that just happened to older people. It wasn't supposed
to happen to my mum that was so beautiful and young.
Even as the cancer was eating at her, and Mum started to lose weight and
look all skinny like a skeleton, I always remembered her as beautiful.
I remember once that Mum was in bed. She was tired and very sick. I didn't
really care. I wanted to be with her. I told her I could make her
beautiful. I started putting make up on her face. I was quite good at
this, because I did it so often with my sister. I showed Mum what she
looked like in the mirror. She smiled and started crying saying that she
never felt as beautiful as she did now. Then I started putting make up on
myself. I rushed into my sister's room and put on one of her old Church
dresses and white tights. It was a white frilly dress with a pink ribbon.
Needless to say she always hated it. When Mum seen me in it, she laughed
and said that she should have bought the dress for me, "Her sissy son,"
This is the first time that I heard the word sissy.
Mum spent most of her last time with me. Looking back, I think that Dad
made her think that she was dying. He would ask her about the funeral and
things like that. He would feel sorry for himself and would curse life.
My sister would also just cry. Sometimes she would sit on the end of the
bed and just watch Mum and me play. My sister understood the situation
much better than me. I think that when I was with my mother, it was not
about her cancer. It was about enjoying the moment. Mum felt like a mum;
she felt alive. I didn't know that my Dad was jealous because I was
spending more time with Mum. As I said, I didn't know any different, and
Mum did feel more alive when I was there.
But she died.
Life would never feel the same again.
Act II
Changing times
After Mum died, everything changed. The only thing that was the same was
my sister. She loved me, as I was the only thing that was left in her life
caring about.
On the other hand, Dad ignored me. The jealousy that he felt when Mum was
in her sick bed and used most of her last days with me was just too much.
I don't think that Dad hated me at this stage. I think that I reminded him
too much about Mum.
The same was with my sister. I remember that I looked at a family picture.
It was then I realized that she looked like Mum. She has the same eyes as
Mum. When she smiled, she looked like Mum. I don't know if this made me
have a closer connection with my sister, or was it just because we had it
all the time?
The first fall out I had with my Dad was Saturday a month after Mum died.
I was so bored. My sister was playing with her friends. I tried to ask Dad
should we play something and he just grunted something. He obviously
thought that I was invisible.
So I turned on TV. There were all children's shows. I liked some shows
like The Little Mermaid and Care Bears. I wouldn't normally look at these,
but today something caught my eye. It was ballet. I was just staring at
the way they danced. It was so graceful. The men wore tights and soldier
jackets that looked a bit funny. I wore tights before. I wondered if I
could do ballet and look just as pretty as them on TV. Then Dad started
getting mad.
"What is it that you are looking at some puffy faggot Ballet? Is that what
you think is fun? Do you like looking at men with tights on and acting
like a pack of queers? You do know that all Ballet men are Queer?"
"How do you know?" I asked confused. Dad was using a lot of words I didn't
even know. I was just looking at some people dance, and I didn't quite
understand what he was on about. He just stormed out and I continued
watching ballet.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew was Dad was
screaming at me again.
"What? Wake up and answer me! Look at what you have done. You have wet
yourself! Is the toilet too far away? Look at your clothes! What are you,
a baby now?"
I felt embarrassed as I realized that I did wet myself. I fell asleep
when watching ballet and didn't know that I peed myself. I stood up while
Dad abused me with words and changed my clothes. Deep down I believed what
he said. I just peed myself. Dad only thought that babies wet themselves.
That was life with Dad now. Every time he seen me, he would get mad and
call me names such as girlie or baby. He never smiled at me or anything
like that. He never asked me if I had a good day. He was like a stone with
me, or some military sergeant, that just screamed and yelled all the time.
I didn't mind, because my sister was there to give me a hug after he was
so mean. She just said that I reminded him so much of mum, and that he was
jealous that I used so much time with her before she died.
Sometimes my sister was not enough. Once I was playing with my sister. We
were playing the game that we always did, where she would dress me as her
little sister. It was usually one of her old summer dresses and panties.
Then she would put my hair in ponytail or something else. We would just
play with her old dolls and toys. For me, this was the some of the
happiest times in my childhood. I would feel like a sister and escape the
world without a dad that always got mad at me.
Of course one day, Dad caught me playing the little sister. He was
outraged. My sister kept telling him that it was just a game, but she was
told to go down and start dinner. Then he looked at me, and I knew it was
time to be called many names.
"What do I see here? My son is dressed as a girl! You are one weird boy.
You are just a sissy, and that is one thing this world can do without.
What am I to do about you? How am I going to make you normal? You might as
well stay in that dress if you want to be a girl."
"I don't want to be a girl!"
"Then look in the mirror."
It was like I couldn't do anything to please my Dad. He just always yelled
and me. He would never smile and it looked like his eyes were red as the
devils. Around this time, I started wetting the bed. I think it had
something to do with mums death, but who knows? Instead of taking me to
the doctor, Dad would get so mad and say I was a baby. To tell you the
truth, I was sad around him. I really missed Mum more.
It was a week later when one of my friends Michael asked me was I still
sad about Mums death, It was when school was over and Dad usually picked
me up later, as if he nearly forgotten me. I told Michael what life was
like at home. I said I don't know how I would survive if it was not for my
sister.
Then he gave me a hug and told me that he liked me more than a friend, and
he would pray for me. The hug was a long one, and I felt confused. He
liked me more than a friend?
It didn't matter, the next thing I experienced was my father taking my arm
and dragging me back to the car. I was waiting for him to say something
and call me names like he always did. The only thing he said was:
"So now you have a boyfriend. A few weeks ago, we were invited to a house.
It is a group of people that believe in God and have made their own cult
where they can live as Jesus and do, as he wanted. We are packing and we
are going there. I think that they can sort your strange personality. In
this house, you cannot be a girl, have a boyfriend or be a baby"
Act III.
God is on holidays
It was the first evening in the house. It was like a little hotel where
lot of families lived. Father Steve that thought God spoke directly to him
and he was a new prophet ran it. Everyone else believed it, otherwise, why
would they be here?
The first evening we were in a prayer room. We said a load of prayers. I
thought if I was God, I would fall asleep. We just mumbled and mumbled.
Then he said welcome to my family. I smiled and thought maybe this cult
would make Dad smile again. Then Father Steve called me up to stand next
to him:
"My fellow people, this boy are troubled by many demons. I have had a long
talk with his father that told me that this boy annoyed his mother so much
when she was dying, that she had no strength to live. He also dresses in
girls clothes and plays like a sissy. A few days ago, he was seen by his
father giving another boy a hug. To make things worse, he pisses himself
often. I am convinced that demons are controlling this boy. It will take
our prayers and hard decisions from his father to make things better."
I was crying. The prophet said I was to blame for mum's death. He also
said that I had demons in me.
This was also too much for my sister. The next day when we woke up, there
was a letter.
Dear family
I will not live here where people are so mean. I will not live at a place
where my father lets some priest say that my little brother is possessed
by the devil. I will not live with my father that does not show his love
for everyone in the family.
I love my brother. He reminds me so much about Mum. He is not afraid to
show himself. He does not wear dresses because he is a sissy or gay. He
wears them because he thinks it?s funny. I love him for who he is and I
hope this place does not destroy him.
Now I was without my sister, when I read her letter, I started crying.
What was I to do? She was the only one that knew how I felt. She was the
only one that I could get support from when Dad was being mean, and now
she?s gone to live with my aunt. She went without me!
After she went Dad became even meaner. He loved to call me sissy and baby
when someone else was listening. He made me wear diapers all the time
because I started wetting more, even at daytime. Around him, I felt like a
little Baby.
I didn?t go to the same classes as the others my age. Dad said I could go
to the nursery until I learned how to grow up. I cried when he said that I
would be going to the nursery. The first day was extremely hot. Dad said
that babies only wear diapers when it was hot. So crying and with a
pacifier in my mouth, he took me to a room in the house that was used as
the nursery. I could see the other children that were going to a normal
school look at me and whisper or laugh.
Other days, I had to go to the nursery in a short baby dress. I think Dad
wanted to drive the devil out of me. Or he just wanted to humiliate me.
Act IV
Forced to Salvation
I was now dressed fulltime as a girl. I was now a baby girl. I had
diapers, pacifiers, and crib. I also had as many dresses as any other
girl. Mary Jane Shoes, leggings, blouses. My hair as even looked like a
girl.
I was not a sissy. Before I only wore my sister?s clothes just to play
with her. I liked my boy clothes. I only felt like a girl when I was
playing her sister. Not when Dad made me dress as a girl, and a baby girl
at that.
One day, I was sitting watching TV with a light blue summer dress on. Dad
invited all his religious mates to drink a beer.
?Look at him, ?Dad said, ?Or her. I make him wear dresses. He even has a
diaper on. It is good that I can dress the devil as a sissy baby. I know
he is my son, but I really hate him. Wait until I make him play outside
with slut girl clothes, or just a diaper. I love humiliating him?
This was the first time that I heard my Dad say it. He hated me. All he
wanted to do was to humiliate me and make me more and more into a baby and
sissy. It was like my heart stopped when I heard my own father say he
hated me. I thought also that he would take me down town just in a diaper
or dressed as a girl. It was humiliating and I would not do it. I did not
want a Dad that hated me.
My heart felt like it was dead
My mind went blank
Slowly I stood up. I walked into my dad?s room; I opened his drawer and
took his gun. I could hear him shouting and telling me to come back. They
were not finished talking about me.
I came into the sitting room. I pointed the gun at him. The other men hid
behind chairs and sofas. Dad just stood there. Deep down I wanted him to
reach his hands out for a hug. He just stood there like stone. There was
no love in his eyes. Maybe he was possessed by the devil.
I shot 3 times
I was now an orphan.
Act V
No story is a fairytale in real life.
Here I was in the lake. I tied a stone around my leg and jumped in. I
wanted to be with mum.
How did I get here? After I shot Dad I was arrested. I had to go to court.
Everyone felt sorry for me. I was abused by Dad and made to wear girl
clothes. Because I wore diapers so long, my bladder was very weak. So the
doctor told me I would have to continue wearing diapers and exercise at
the same time until my bladder would work.
I was not sent to prison or any children?s home. My aunt said that she was
taking care of my sister and she could also take care of me. The court
agreed and said I could live with my aunt and get some professional help
at the same time.
I thought things would be great now. I would be living with my sister now.
The only problem is that she hardly talked to me. She would always tell me
to go away, because she was on MSN. When she wasn?t on MSN, she would say
that she had no time for me anymore.
Then I tried to wear her old clothes, so we can play sisters again. She
didn?t even notice this. I was going to beg her to play with me until I
read what she just written on MSN. She wrote, ?I know that Dad was a moron
and I know that my brother was sad because he was treated like a sissy.
But I hate him because he shot my Dad.?
After that, I walked out the door. I didn?t care who seen me in a dress. I
went down to the lake and tied a stone around my leg. I jumped off a place
where others usually dived. Everything was so blue down there. I was
dying.
Then I saw my Mum. She was an angel. ?Don?t give up? she said, ?I know how
much you suffered because of your father. I know that you think your
sister hates you now. After you read that she hates you to her friend on
MSN, she also wrote that?s not true. She just was afraid that you would be
taken away from her and she would miss you a lot. So have courage my son.
Play sisters once in a while and be proud of who you are. You can do great
things in this life. Have courage. I am always with you?
I tried swimming up to the surface, but could not manage it. The stone was
too heavy. Then I could see Mums hand and I held it as she helped me up to
the surface.
I was lying down on the side of the lake when some ambulance men were
trying to make me breath again. I started coughing and gasping for air as
this worked. The last thing I remember before they drove me to the
hospital was that my sister hugged me
Madison
- 11.04.2021
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