Designer Children Part 13 free porn video

Part 13 Designer Children by OneShot20XX Chapter 29 "Ashley!" "Madison!" I ran through the kids, some of whom shambled back to class after recess like extras from a zombie flick. At that moment, I wasn't sure what pushed me to seek out the girl. I was like that bullet-ridden almost corpse with a single shot left, gunning down the villain before dying heroically. It was clear the serum had won. I was becoming Kaylee. I was Kaylee. I retained my memory and portions of my adult self, but it would be obvious to even the most casual observer that Ryan Sullivan had been stripped away, leaving a little girl who hated herself and everything she had become. The hair. The crying. The weakness and vulnerability that came from this body. The way everyone looked at me, and how I was treated differently by many people who didn't realize that little girls don't just want to be told they are pretty. It was fucking annoying. The worst part was how much I wanted to hear it, and how I wanted to grow up and be beautiful like mom- Kathryn. Jessica. It was also doing what I wanted as a girl, but never being able to do it as well as the boys. The reality of this existence, my future- perhaps this is what spurred me on, or just the morbid curiosity of a mind that was going mad, that grasped at the straws of a cure. Ashley or Madison, if it was her- it led to someone related to the serum. It was the only chance now. Was the damage to my brain permanent? Would I be a girl trapped in the body of Ryan Sullivan? I wasn't sure, but I had to know. By the time I had pushed my way to the front where I had seen Ashley's twin, she was gone. Still, it was a small school, and an equally small town. After school, instead of going right to gymnastics, I snuck off to the third grade classroom. The only one in the whole school. "Kaylee! Oh sweetie, are you OK? Are you hurt?" Bursting through the set of double doors was Kathryn, who was really early to get me from gymnastics. "I heard what happened, sweetheart. Why were you playing with those boys like that? You could have been really hurt." Not only was Kathryn treating me like a baby in front of the escaping third grade class, but she was blocking me from the Ashley lookalike. I said through bared teeth, "Why are you here?" Kathryn frowned and reached out for me, trying to bring me into her arms, "I cancelled my class this afternoon because I'm worried about you, sweetie. It's not like you to play like that. And I wanted to make sure you were OK because you were hurt." I glared at the woman and said, "What's not like me? You-don't-fucking- know-me. You don't know me at all. If you did, you wouldn't have packed this dress as my change of clothes." Some of the children who were exiting the classroom breathed a sigh of shock at the language that wasn't exactly common in the halls of an elementary school. Kathryn at this point snatched my hand and unceremoniously dragged me from the school. Again, I had embarrassed her in front of other parents and likely a few teachers. The adopted hellion that she couldn't control. "When I bought you the dress last week, you seemed really happy. You loved the flower. I thought you wanted to wear it. Now get in the car this instant, and we can talk about things, Kaylee. I want to help you, but you will not speak that way to me." I shouted, "I don't fucking give a shit, Kathryn. I know your plan. It's to turn me into you. And dance. I don't want to take dance. I don't want to wear dresses or play with dolls. And you've got my room full of them. You don't know me, and you don't care about knowing me. You just want me to be your perfect little girl." "Can you please control your daughter's language, it's really inappropriate-" Kathryn said, "Wendy, please, I've heard how Joshua speaks to you. Kaylee is a nun compared to him." She turned back to me and said, "Car. Now." Despite my earlier rebellion, I found myself being quickly buckled in my car seat as Kathryn's voice still maintained that same Feinstein- like intensity. Kathryn pulled out from the parking lot, but nothing was said initially. I figured I was in for a lecture for the ages. We were dealing with a college professor after all. She simply said, "I just thought you would like those things." I asked, "Because I'm a girl?" Kathryn sighed, "Y-Yes. I'm sorry, Kaylee. It's just well sometimes you seem really happy to do things that girls your age enjoy. Ms. McDavid too mentioned what you liked. She said you loved Frozen. We had never met you, so we went along with everything she suggested. So I'm confused. I guess we got, like you said, some bad intel. But you're right, I don't know you." The problem was that I didn't know myself either. *** "So what do we do? She wants to play with the boys." Thomas said, "Well, what's wrong with that? I guess they are rough, but we shouldn't discourage Kaylee from exploring who she is. It might be a phase. Friendships can change like the direction of the wind at this age. Her teacher said she was playing with the girls by the end of recess." Kathryn replied, "It's not that. From what I understand, the boys won't let her play. Should we talk to Mrs. Carmichael about this? Kaylee shouldn't be excluded because she's a girl." She looked to me as I sullenly chewed on a piece of roasted chicken, "What about Conner? Will he play with you?" I shook my head, "They aren't doing that because I'm a girl. It's because I'm bad. And all the 'you're a special snowflake' talk in the world isn't going to change that. They don't want to play with me because I'm bad." It wasn't fair though, how was I supposed to get any better if wouldn't play with me? But I knew the truth. Even if Thomas and I practiced until I was a freshman in high school, I would never be any good. And in that moment, I knew what every girl felt like who was told she couldn't play with the boys, who was told she wasn't good enough. I guess it was a gender thing too. I mean Conner sucked, and they still played with him, right? Thomas and Kathryn shared worried glances. Thomas said gently, "But you're wrong, Kaylee. You can be as good as them. We can go out and practice tonight for as long as you want." I shook my head fervently, again sending my long blonde locks swishing into my face. "No. I can't." *** As Kathryn was tucking me in that night, she looked concerned. She reached over and put her hand on mine, "Sweetie, I don't want you to feel like I am pushing anything on you. I only packed the dress in your change of clothes because you seemed so happy when I brought it home. Your eyes lit up like the first time you saw our car. I don't want you to be like me. If you don't want to take dance class, then you don't have to." She smiled gently, "I get that you were playing a role, a part, when you were on the TV show, and that maybe you don't want to be that Kaylee. And that's fine. Thomas and I, we're not going to push you. We're going to let you find yourself." The woman gently cleared her throat, "Even if it means letting you take karate. If you want." I immediately perked up, and while Kathryn's speech had plenty of nice words previously, it had little in the way of substance. It was parent talk for things-will-be-better-I-promise, but at the mention of karate, a tiny smile graced my face. "Really?" Kathryn nodded happily. "Yes. Although, Callie says that you are doing really, really well in gymnastics, but you can take karate after Christmas." Kathryn gently squeezed my hand. "Tomorrow, I'm going to pick you up after gymnastics. Thomas has a meeting at the university, so I was thinking, is there something you'd like to do? We could go into town and see a movie. That one with the talking animals in space looks really funny." My bangs dangled in my eyes, obscuring my view. The hated locks had resulted in me getting steamrolled, and they were a permanent fixture in reminding me of my transformation. I wanted the offending hair gone, not a point of baldness, but at least to a length that didn't scream adorable little girl. The serum was apparently taking my mind, but I would have this small petty victory in transforming Kaylee into a tomboy. I said, "I want to get my hair cut." Kathryn beamed, "Oh really? I've got a lot of ideas. We could look online too for something you would like. There's a place in town that you'll love. You can even dress up in princess costumes while you wait, and you can get your ears pierced too." "Woah. I just want a haircut. That's it. Like a short one. This isn't going to be some pre-teen spa day. Promise me." Kathryn smirked, "Sure, honey. I'll tell them to hold the cucumber on the eyes and the mud bath." *** I peeked around the corner, and as I did, vivid pictures entered my mind. They came so easily, without a thought- the short journey to the side door of the school became a battlefield. I was a soldier crossing enemy lines, the lunch-time teachers monitoring the kids outside became watch towers with search lights. Old Mrs. Smyth, who bore a passing resemblance to a pit bull, became a vicious German Shepard from my dad's old war movies- the kind that stood up as straight as a soldier and whose ears perked up at the slightest sound. "Kaylee, you know you aren't supposed to use that door during recess." Reality. The reality was that I must have looked ridiculous creeping across the school yard, and equally conspicuous. To a teacher, I was probably looking for trouble. Mrs. Smyth, whose appearance belied her actually soft nature, said, "Do you have to go to the bathroom?" Students who had to visit the washroom during recess were supposed to head to the double doors, where the inside teacher on duty would escort the younger students to the washroom. Was it like that for all the students? I couldn't imagine it would be for a sixth grade girl, although depending on how puberty went... Fuck. I did not want to think about that. That aisle in McDaniels that was full of pale pinks, purples and blues. I nodded my head rapidly and Mrs. Smyth's face broke out into a grin, "OK, little chickadee. Go on, but you come right back this way. And don't dawdle." The old woman's strange dichotomy reminded me of Mrs. Feinstein and her fierce outer shell. Of course, Mrs. Feinstein never called me a pet name, but Mrs. Smyth tended to call all the girls in my grade something similar. It was still bizarre, but it was better than what most people, who didn't use my actual name, called me before my transformation. Mostly, "Hey you, asshole." Mrs. Smyth quickly opened the side door for me with her key (I hadn't even realized it was going to be locked), and suddenly, I had access to every hallway in the school. I took a left past a smattering of construction paper jack-o-lanterns with crudely drawn features and entered the hallway next to the third grade class. I stood exactly where I had before Kathryn had interrupted yesterday and quickly read each name, which was neatly affixed to each cubby. Think of a tiny closet with no door. The cubby held the jacket, rain boots, change of clothes of each individual student, but all I cared about in that hallway was a simple name. I stopped at the seventh- or maybe eighth name, and printed neatly with a heart over the 'I' was the name 'MADISON'. *** "Come on, Kaylee! Wake up, sweetie. We're practicing our straddle presses." Callie pointed to the gym floor, and I groaned. I hated straddle presses, mostly because I was bad at them. But also because Ava was so good at them. It pissed me off that she could do them so effortlessly, and how Callie and the other teenage instructors lavished attention on Ava as she did them. They weren't like that when I was on the beam. I sighed, knowing that I shouldn't have cared and yet did. It was stupid gymnastics- something I didn't even want to take. I also wasn't in a very good mood because when I had sprinted to Madison's cubby after school, she wasn't there. It was a massive tease. As I stared into space, I started wondering if it had even been real. Why the fuck would Madison/Ashley be here in Twin Falls of all places? Callie said, "Keep trying and you'll get it, Kaylee. I mean you've only been doing gymnastics for two months. You've made so much progress! Maybe you should ask Santa for a practice mat?" "You mean my parents?" Callie frowned gently and nodded, although her bubbly demeanour soon returned, "Sure. Or your parents. Okay, ready? Start with the handstand." It was like this every single time. I could do the handstand properly- the whole straight legs and pointed toes, but my legs always gave out on me as I tried to return to the straddle position. They flew backwards, burning from the exertion, which left me more often than not eating mat. "Okay. Great, Kaylee, you've really got the handstand. Now very slowly start to split your legs." I did as I was told, getting ready for the eventual fall, but it never came. What did come, however, was a wide beaming smile, as my legs, which still burned, slowly split. "Wow! Amazing, Kaylee! Now use your hands for support and gently swing your legs down in the scissor position." Again, I followed the instructions, now feeling the burning in my arms, but with growing confidence came a second wind, and even with my burning limbs, I managed to gently return to the mat. I couldn't do two in a row like Ava, but I had done one. My head exploded in absolute joy to a point where I couldn't have rid the smile from my face if I tried. Callie gave me a quick high-five, but I was even more surprised to see Ava come over to me. The fashionista of first grade said happily, "Good job, Kaylee!" We were always encouraged to praise the other gymnasts, even if a particular move didn't go right, so while some of the praise was undoubtedly faint- Ava's seemed perfectly genuine. She was legitimately happy for me. "Um. Thanks." And still, the beaming smile never left. I was obviously proud of myself for accomplishing the move, but there was something else too. That nagging, bitter voice in my head that had battered my self-confidence was gone- at least for the moment. The one that had told me that the boys would always be better than me, faster and stronger. Could they even do one handstand without falling flat on their face? There was no use lying about it any longer- girl or boy, I had fallen in love with gymnastics. And while I wanted to play football and be just as good as I had been before my change, in a way, it didn't matter. Gymnasts are athletes- fucking amazing athletes. And for the time being, that's what I was. For all the torture, the mental anguish it had put me through, it was clear that the body I possessed was a marvel, and for the first time since my change, I actually appreciated my body. I was still going to get a fucking Mohawk to spite the serum, but I was going to continue gymnastics. *** Haircuts, at least when I was a kid, consisted of a shaver. Most boys wanted to look like jarheads, just like their dads, and I was no exception. My mom would get the shaver out the moment my hair started to look shaggy, and it was usually done within a minute. In L.A, I usually went to quickie cut places, where I would sometimes hit on the stylist. At the quick cut places, you would see every age group, old ladies getting perms, shaggy-headed kids getting trims and guys like me, who disliked the sausage fest that was the typical barber shop. It helped too that some stylists, many who considered themselves artists, had a little Monique in them. Since Twin Falls was a small town, I wasn't expecting anything beyond maybe a shittier version of a quickie cut place, but I forgot that Twin Falls had money too. It probably had something to do with the university nearby. I had seen hundreds of college students roaming about the town, so they probably brought a lot of money into it. I guess too that even if you weren't a college professor, the college still paid well. Being a small town, there was a regular hair salon, which I fully expected, but what I did not prepare myself for was the adjoining room where I saw thrones, race cars, but most importantly, the televisions playing age- appropriate fare. A young woman, probably mid-twenties, with a generous backside and bright pink and purple hair greeted us. She was a hodgepodge of styles with an apron that looked like a massive colouring book page, but with a series of tasteful tattoos that snaked up her arms. Her somewhat plump upper arms gave plenty of real estate to a series of iron-clad rings interlaced with multi-coloured stars. It was like Star Wars met Steampunk. Despite her eccentric appearance, my eyes were still drawn to the televisions, one of which was playing Frozen for a little girl about my age who getting her own haircut. Kathryn asked with some trepidation, "So do you like this place, Kaylee? Look you can sit on a throne and everything. Or in a race car." I shook my head, "The race cars are for little kids." I had only one example, but the little boy who was currently squirming against his bonds- the car's seatbelt- told me all I needed to know about that option. Plus, if I sat next to the little girl, I could watch her screen. I was absolutely pathetic- it was Monique trying to quit drinking because it was screwing up her range and just having three beers instead of the hard stuff. As if not having my own screen was somehow OK, as if it wouldn't further solidify the little girl that the serum sought to create. I peered longingly at the screen, and I realized that it was a part I hadn't seen. Elsa, just recently crowned queen, has fled from the palace, from the panic and fear that her now uncovered secret has wrought. Alone, she treks up the mountain. The young stylist took my hand and walked me over to the throne, but my eyes never left the screen. Her words danced on the periphery of my awareness. "OK, well this is going to be easy then. Do you want an Anna or an Elsa?" Kathryn said as if the young stylist actually cared, "This is why we limit her screen time. She kind of zones out." The stylist replied, "Happens to plenty of kids her age. They just love this movie. Believe me, it makes cutting hair a lot easier sometimes." My plan to basically shave Kaylee's head wasn't exactly playing out how I expected. I hadn't anticipated the slight wrinkle that was quickly becoming my favourite movie the same way that heroin becomes the go-to- drug for addicts once they have a taste. I shouted over the movie, "Shave it. Like the sides. Just like yours." The stylist had one of those quasi-punk cuts with the sides completely shaven yet the top still maintaining significant length. That length was pulled tightly across the scalp like some kind of female comb over. It only looked good on some girls. Having hair like this would make a statement, but mostly importantly, it was my way of disassociating myself from Ava and her crew. I grinned, suddenly very pleased with myself- meek Kaylee was going to look like a fucking rock star. Kathryn stared wide eyed at me, while the stylist wore an amused grin. I could just imagine Kathryn trying to show me off to the diamond jubilee cult looking like an extra from a Green Day video. "K-Kaylee. Are you sure that's what you want?" Kathryn twisted her head toward the stylist and then back to me. The stylist said, "Now that's a recipe for serious cutters remorse. Are you sure about that, sweetie? It will take a long time for it to grow back. You have such long beautiful hair. I can still do something kind of like what I have, but just on top." I shook my head and placed my arms firmly underneath my chest. The stylist said, "I've seen that look before too. Okay, Mom. What are we doing?" Kathryn looked mortified, like her sensibilities had been offended, but I had a feeling the wheels in her head were turning rapidly, going through all the scenarios involving the haircut and how she wouldn't be able to parade me around town like a porcelain doll. Kathryn said, "Kaylee, if you are sure this is what you want, you can have it. But you'll have to deal with the consequences if it turns out you don't like it. And that means waiting for your hair to grow." I was preparing a stink face for the ages, but instead, I sat flabbergasted at Kathryn's response. Was this a game she was playing? Was she calling my bluff? Well I was going to win and leave here with a fucking sick haircut. The stylist said, "OK! Let's get started then." With a flourish, she tied a haircutting cape around my neck and jacked up the throne, which acted like a regular barber chair, with her foot. Seconds later, she wielded a pair of the sharpest looking scissors I had ever seen. Thankfully, the little girl next to me had grown bored of Frozen and had switched to something else which involved talking trains. Having little to no interest in the show, I was able to focus my mind on the task at hand- sticking it to the serum. The stylist decided to start with my bangs, noting that they were in my eyes. I was pleased with this even though I had no intention of trying to play football any time soon. At least I wouldn't have hair in my eyes during gymnastics, especially if Thomas was the one who had done my hair. Callie usually fixed it though, tying it into a quick ponytail. When I first arrived in the apartment, Eve was more than willing to cut my hair, even though she also had mentioned how beautiful it was- how most girls would die to have hair like mine. But I had panicked. Now, I was practically at the mercy of the serum, and I was seemingly able to forge my identity. I couldn't understand it. It was still going to be a feminine hairstyle, but it was so unlike anything you would see at Twin Falls Collegiate. Boredom, however, began to slowly creep into my mind as simply sitting in the chair without sufficient stimulation was enough to cause my eyes to wander. My gaze rested on the little girl next to me. Nothing about her clothes or features interested me, what did, however, was her hair, and specifically, the way the girl's stylist was braiding the long blonde locks. Oh my god. It was just like Elsa's. While I hadn't seen the part of the movie that featured the hairstyle, it was easily seen on both my backpack, lunch bag and baseball hat. It was the braid that swept across the young woman's shoulder. It was synonymous with Elsa's commercial image, and I realized that in that moment, I wanted it more than anything. Even a cure to my condition. It was at this point that I began to shake. If my hair was shaved at the sides, I could never have the style, not for as long as it would take to grow back, and in that time, which seemed practically immeasurable to my changing brain, I would be miserable. The second I began shaking, the frequency of my breaths also increased, going in and out like I had just sprinted down the street. The stylist, who was now armed with a shaver, said, "Uh oh. Mom, we've got a problem here. Have you seen this before?" I knew exactly what was happening- it was the beginning of a panic attack. Kathryn, however, looked down at me both in surprise and worry. Hadn't Ms. McDavid told them about my attacks? Wasn't that the main reason Eve and Greg hadn't won the Kaylee sweepstakes? Kathryn said, "I-I don't know. I mean she's had nightmares where she was shaking like this. But- Kaylee, you're worrying me, honey. We don't have to get your hair cut. We can go see the animal movie if you want." The stylist said, "Kaylee, what kind of hair cut would you like? I don't need to cut very much if you are scared about how it might look." I looked up while my lip trembled, "I don't know." *** "Why didn't she tell us?" "Thomas, that's not a good reason. Maybe it's something we've done to her." "I know. I know. But it doesn't feel like we are doing our best. It feels like we are screwing this up. Like completely ruining her." I sat sullenly in my car seat, listening to the one-sided conversation, while Kathryn drove us home. "This is our chance, Thomas. And we are blowing it. Maybe, she needs therapy or something like that. Something obviously happened to her in that studio. Maybe it is abuse. She was shaking. It was terrifying." "I am not overreacting to this. You didn't see her. She was having trouble breathing I think. You mean you've seen this before? At the dentist? And you didn't tell me?" I heard silence and then a few moments later, a gentle beep. *** Kathryn got on the phone with her sister almost the moment we got home. There was no movie- not that I was looking forward to watching talking animals. Well kind of. It would have at least turned my mind to something other than my complete capitulation to the serum again. It fought dirty, easing my mind into thinking that I had a real choice. The second I felt the metal at my temple, I probably would have started shaking, even without seeing the other little girl's style. The serum had a set path for me and deviating from it brought misery. As I sulked in the entertainment room, desperately trying not to beg Kathryn to put Frozen on, I felt strong arms encircle my body from behind the couch. The entertainment room had an open concept, with the couch placed in the middle of the room next to two expensive looking wooden end tables. Because of this, Kathryn was able to wrap her arms around me. Before I could even say a word, the woman, who longed to be accepted as my mother, pulled me into a tight hug. Tears were in her eyes, as her face, showing a rare fragility broke through the surface of her expertly applied makeup mask. "Kaylee, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you've had a life like this. I'm sorry that you couldn't stay with your friends. I know this isn't fair to you. I should have told you that from the very beginning when you first came to live with us. Whatever you are going through though, Thomas and I will help you. If you are still scared about what happened in the studio or anything else, we'll find a way to make it better." Kathryn knew nothing about the serum and what it had done to Ryan Sullivan, but her words still surprisingly hit their mark. It wasn't fair. I was essentially being erased, my body and now my mind molded to the typical timid little girl. She would never raise a fuss. She would always speak in a polite manner, sit quietly in school, and always raise her hand to go to the washroom. She would twirl for mommy in a brand new dress and balk at the sight of a mud puddle that might dirty the garment. Pristine, perfect. Pageant ready. My head tingled pleasantly and then Kathryn tightened the hug and the tingle became a powerful buzzing. She started playing with my hair, running her fingers through it gently. It was just like when I was little and my mom would tease the little curls that grew if my hair started getting too long. My own skinny arms wrapped around Kathryn's waist as I snuggled against her chest. "I hate the studio. I hate what it did to me and to my friend Ashley. And the people there too. The people that did this to us. I hate them too. They took my life away." The closeness brought out the words, but my mood and general feeling about the serum had likely helped it along. Kathryn said softly, "I know, Kaylee. It's not fair at all that those people would use you like that. But they caught the person who was behind all of it. And she's probably going to go to jail. I know you still have the memory of what happened to you, but does it make you feel any better to know that the bad people are going to be punished for what they did?" I said firmly with my own tears now brimming at my eyes, "They don't have the right person. Tracy was trying to help us escape." Kathryn stopped running her fingers through my hair, "Wait. What are you talking about, Kaylee? Are you serious?" I loosened my grip around Kathryn's waist and looked her in the eyes, trying to make her see how much her question had hurt me. "Yes. I'm fucking serious." Kathryn sighed and replied, "I'm sorry, Kaylee. It's just a heavy accusation. I wanted to make sure I understood what you meant. Sometimes kids can-" I shook my head, "I'm not making things up. Tracy was the only nice one there. She wanted to help Ashley and me escape. She was going to bring us to her place. We were going to live there." Kathryn asked, "Did you ever talk to a police officer about this?" I shrugged, "Can't trust them. They were the ones who arrested Tracy." Kathryn sighed and hugged me tightly, beginning again to play with my hair. She said nothing, simply humming a soothing lullaby which calmed my nerves. "How come you were so scared when you were getting your haircut? Do you know the reason why? It's OK that you don't, but I want to be able to help you." I replied, "I guess it's because I'm not really sure who I am. They pushed us to do certain things in the studio too. Like wear dresses. We had to look how they wanted us to look." Kathryn replied, "So because you were forced to look and act a certain way inside the studio, you aren't sure if you want to look like that outside of it, is that it?" I nodded, "Something like that." Kathryn asked gently, "Think about what will make you happy and do that. I'm sorry again that I was trying to make you into a little mini-me. That wasn't fair either. I want you to be the person that will make you the most happy. OK?" Kathryn smiled, "So, if you feel like you want to wear a dress, there's no harm in trying it. The same way with your hair. It's about what will make you happy." She added quickly with a barely discernible measure of disappointment, "And same goes if you don't want to wear dresses." Kathryn gently untangled herself from me and sat me on the couch. With a smile she said, "Your eyes lit up when you saw that little girl with Elsa's hairstyle. Didn't they?" I shrugged, "I guess." Kathryn said, "They did. There's nothing wrong with accepting what feels right to you, even if it is what you did in the studio. I get that you are trying to be different from that person you were playing, but will you ever be happy if you fight against what seems natural?" Kathryn flicked on the television and chose the YouTube app. "If you don't like it that's OK, same with the dress. If it doesn't feel right, then we'll stop." From the second she started brushing my long blonde hair, again gently humming the beautiful lullaby, I felt at ease. More than that, Kathryn's presence made me so happy- the way she touched and teased my hair- it just felt...right. I knew that it is was stereotypical as fuck, a mother and daughter bonding over hair, but it didn't matter. Kathryn meticulously followed the video on the screen, and I sat there with a big goofy grin as she transformed my hair. I bubbled with excitement. I was going to look just like Elsa. Kathryn plugged in her curling iron and gently teased my hair, until the long strands curled and then dangled, tickling the side of my cheek. She then started gently separating large portions of my hair and then carefully tying them together. Or rather braiding them. Had the serum finally won? If I stopped fighting the little girl inside of me, the one that just wanted to laugh and play, be a kid- if I stopped and simply surrendered, did it matter as long as I was happy? In that moment, it didn't matter. Not for a second. It wasn't only the hairstyle either- it was the attention that I was getting from Kathryn. Again, it should have raised innumerable red flags, but I loved the attention. It was the same way with Thomas when we had thrown the football around. As Kathryn finished braiding the hair, she swung the thick braid over my shoulder. She handed me a mirror, and my smile grew. I really did look just like Elsa! The dress upstairs with the gossamer sleeves would complete the look, but was I going too far too quickly? *** "Oh my god, Kaylee! Your hair is so pretty!" It was the next day, and Ava was in her usual circle at recess. I was still amazed how early girls displayed the pack behaviour you would see in a group of co-eds. Even enlightened girls like Jessica and Ashley were concerned about their appearance and the others in their pack. Jessica complimented Eve on her clothing, asked if she had done something different with her hair. Meanwhile, Ashley, who I considered a raging feminist, still dressed in a manner that reflected a person who cared about their appearance. It was partly Hollywood, but it was also her gender. There were definitely guys who spent a shitload of time on their hair and in picking out their clothes. I remember one guy in high school who coiffed his hair after gym like it he was carving some masterpiece, but most stuck gel in it or just left it messy. Girls, on the other hand, were sometimes obsessed. Having lived with Eve, she wasn't exactly the kind to put her face on every morning, but if she couldn't get her hair to sit properly or if she felt bloated, it seemed to impact her entire existence for that day. And then, there was Kathryn, again highly educated and in most circles a progressive thinker- yet she too prepared for work and even simply going to the grocery store like she was planning on being discovered for some near middle-aged modelling contract. It wasn't sexist to say so, but girls cared far more about their appearance. And I now was falling prey to it. This morning, I had rediscovered the mirror in my room, spending an inordinate amount of time in front of it just soaking in my new hairstyle. "Um. Thanks." I wasn't sure what to say beyond that, but the compliment returned that now familiar tingle. The small sensation grew while a small smile slowly formed on my lips. Pretty. Ava had called me pretty. The other girls around her agreed, each of them taking in my newly braided hair. Ava said, "It's beautiful, Kaylee. I love the little snowflakes too. They are so cute. Who did it?" This morning, Kathryn had carefully stuck a series of near translucent snowflakes in my hair to complete the full- Frozen theme. The second compliment brought a new nervous energy to me. I reached out and gently started to pull at the little stands of hair at the end of the braid. I desperately wanted more of the wonderful words to fill my head with all manner of pleasant tingles, and it could happen. All I had to do was essentially become Ava and her little friends. "K- Mom. Mom did it." Ava's smile widened, "Wow! You are so lucky you have a mommy like that. Mine tried, but she had to take me to a hair place." One of the girls said, "Come play with us, Kaylee." So, all it took was a change in hairstyle to be accepted by Ava's group. I was certain that if I opted for a dress tomorrow that I would be fully integrated in the little clique. But I wasn't ready for that. The hairstyle was one thing, but the dress was really admitting that it was over. Yet, I couldn't keep my eyes off the shiny buttons, flaring skirts and flowered patterns of my would-be friends. Not only that, but my wardrobe closet was practically calling out to me. I could have a veritable fashion show, prancing in front of the mirror in any number of outfits. The blue and white gown with the gossamer sleeves would be first. A group of boys walked towards us. Me and the other girls. Fuck. It was Conner and the boys with whom I had played football. Conner smirked, "So I guess you are going to be Elsa for Halloween?" The boys laughed. I glared at the boy, "It's just a hairstyle. It doesn't change anything. I still like doing the same things." Conner shook his head, "What happened to you, Kaylee? You used to be way cooler. Now you are just like Ava." I got in the boy's face, "I'm not like her." Conner shook his head obnoxiously, looking like some overzealous bobble head, "Yeah you are. I thought you were going to take karate with me. Get your parents to switch you." I said firmly, "I like gymnastics." I meant it too. It would have been fun to take karate, but gymnastics gave me self-confidence. I actually felt good about my body too as if it wasn't just a pile of skin and bone that probably couldn't even deadlift the bar. Ava approached me with a hurt expression, "What's wrong with being like me?" I sighed, "I-I didn't mean it like that. It's just you guys are really girly. I'm not like that." Ava replied angrily, "I don't want to be your friend if you're going to be mean. What's wrong with being a girl?" One of the girls said, "You can play with the boys and get hurt again." Nice. Well it was true what some people said- kids can be cruel. The girl was basically saying, "Here's hoping you get a concussion." Moments later, I was alone and trying not to cry. Both the girls and the boys had left me saddened and worst of all, bored. The boys played their stupid football game, while the girls played freeze tag or some variation. Apparently, first graders didn't have the memory of a goldfish because I was given the same treatment during the last recess too. There was no reason to use my pin because neither group wanted to play with me. The boys thought I was too girly and a cry baby, and the girls- well I had insulted their leader, so I was basically ostracized. I didn't want to play with younger kids because their games tended to be dumb, and I doubted that the older kids would want anything to do with me, so I sat there and sulked, both hands covering my cheeks with my eyes facing down. "Kaylee? Is that you, Kaylee?" I blinked, my head slowly rising. My eyes met a smiling raven-haired little girl with alabaster skin. It was impossible, considering where I was, but there she was- Ashley. Or rather Madison, as reflected in the laminated nameplate in her cubby. I shook my head in absolute astonishment, "Madison? What are you doing here? Do you remember anything that happened to us, like in the studio?" Madison nodded, "Yeah, I know we were on the Hermie show together. Remember Musica? She was so annoying. Always singing all the time. It was a weird place, but it was fun being on TV." My heart sunk. "You don't remember anything else? Crazy doctors and Ms. Daniels? The Human Genome Project? And our escape? You have to remember how you helped me. You pushed me to escape. I wouldn't have made it without you." My final words did not leave my throat easily. I knew that Ashley's memory had been erased, but I had hoped that some parts of it could be jogged, even if it meant delving into the more traumatic parts. I wanted her to know too that without her coaxing and sometimes outright shoving, I might have been swallowed completely in the studio. It didn't matter as much now that it seemed that I was destined to become the Kaylee described in the Hermie script, but I still had to tell her. Madison laughed, "Sounds like a crazy TV show. You really do have a good imagination, Kaylee. And what do you mean escape? The show got cancelled! Kids were scared of Hermie or something. So they sent us home. I didn't think he was scary. But I guess little kids did. Were you ever scared of him?" I shook my head, "He definitely wasn't the scariest thing there." Madison frowned gently, "I know." I looked at Madison with sudden hope. Did she remember what happened to us, even an inkling? Madison said, "The worst part was when the night light wasn't working. I know you and me were both really scared." Just as my heart leapt, my hopes were rapidly crushed with Madison's admission. Still, I soldiered on, deciding to probe Madison further. "So who is your mom? What's her name?" Madison looked at me strangely and then laughed gently. "You've met her. Lots of times. And how could you forget her name? It's Linda, silly." It made sense to use a fake name as anyone tied to the studio and the Human Genome Project would likely attract a fair bit of attention. But why have Madison keep her name? Was it too traumatic to alter it at this point? Maybe it was linked to the memory wipe. As for who it was, Tracy was in jail likely awaiting trial for acting as the mastermind of the studio, so it was doubtful it was her. Was this part of the experiment? Were they watching our exchange on some long-range camera? Who else could it be? My heart began slowly pounding in my chest as I spoke. "What does she look like?" Madison answered, "Well people always say she looks really young. She is really pretty, and she has long blonde hair." My heart beat, like a song, starting as a slow ballad and moving into a manic drug-induced rave track meant to flail limbs at sonic speed, reached that fevered pitch once Madison finished speaking. Daniels. Fuck. Was she here to get her other little girl back? I would take a million Kathryn and Thomas Pattersons over a psycho like Daniels. How was it even possible? Last time I had seen her, she was barely fitting in an A-cup. Not to mention busy murdering Dr. Travers, who may or may not have been regressed to an infant based on the news reports. If she was back in adult form though, that meant I had a chance to return to being an adult at the very least. I could live with being an adult woman. At least I wouldn't be in the first grade, and I would avoid any further regression. Could I force myself to come face-to-face with a madwoman again if it brought the possibility of a return to adulthood? Madison asked, "How come you are asking me all these weird questions, Kaylee? Did you lose your memory or something? And aren't you happy to see me?" Despite the fact that Madison had no memory of being Ashley, as I looked at her still diminutive form, I was reminded of the young woman who had done her best to save me. Ashley never gave up on my stubborn ass, even as I went directly against her advice- most of which turned out to be right on the money, especially with regard to acting like children or provoking our captors. I threw my arms around her, tears gently lining my eyes. The droplets fell as the older girl reciprocated. I owed it to her to see this through, even if it meant facing Daniels again. It could also be Ms. McDavid come to make sure I hadn't revealed anything that could give away the link between the Genome Project and the studio, but then she had never worked in the studio, so Madison never would have met her. I asked, "Think we could play together at your house?" Madison smiled and broke the hug, "Of course. I don't really like Frozen anymore though. It's more for younger kids like you Kaylee. I still love your hair though." The compliment brought a slight redness to my cheeks, while my hands began once again playing with the thick braid draped over my shoulder. "Um. Thanks. I'll talk to my mom about going to your place." Madison said with a grin, "Good. She'll be really happy to see you." *** "Kaylee, are you feeling OK today? You're kind of out of it." Callie met my gaze with a concerned expression. It was the second time I had fallen from the balance beam while attempting a cartwheel. My lack of concentration, however, was no surprise. Having met the girl who once called me the "King of the Assholes" and learned that someone from the studio was posing as her mother, my mind wasn't exactly where it needed to be to do anything short of a somersault on the mat. The younger kids practiced with a foam beam, so while I had hit my head, it didn't hurt. The same couldn't be said for my tailbone, which I gently rubbed after the hard impact on the mat. Callie smiled and said, "Everyone has off days, Kaylee. If you don't get it today you'll get it next time." I went to the back of the line. Ava completed her cartwheel perfectly and then stood behind me. I heard snickering moments later. "I can hear you laughing at me, Ava. Not cool." It was obviously in retaliation my comment about her earlier in the day. She was so childish. Ava said, "I'm not laughing." Is this what parents dealt with? Seriously? I would never lie to the Pattersons about something so obvious. It was just childish because I could clearly hear her teasing. Or was this some kind of mean game she was playing? I replied, "Bullshit." Ava crossed her fingers in a shame gesture. Then, she asked, "What's wrong with being like me? You don't like me? You think I'm stupid?" I shook my head, "Seriously? You are six and you already have a complex? All I can tell you is to avoid the sweet talkers or you'll lose your virginity by about thirteen." Girls with baggage tended to be a lot more vulnerable and because of that, they made a lot of mistakes. I admittedly took full advantage of that with my silver tongue. It always seemed like the girls wanted it, but they felt like shit afterward. Just like Eve's friend. The one she had told me to stay far, far away from. I guess I was kind of an asshole. "Mommy! Look at me!" "Look what I can do!" Class was winding down and the first parents had started to filter in to pick up their kids. With the presence of the parents, many of the kids felt the need to show off. Ava cut ahead of me in line and hopped on the balance beam, waving to her mother, who could have been Kathryn's twin with respect to the way she dressed and made herself up. Moments later, Ava did a somewhat awkward looking cartwheel and performed a quick dismount from the beam. "Wow, you are really improving, Ava! Great job!" Ava bubbled with excitement and threw her arms around her mother. As I watched the exchange and all the other children performing for their respective parents, I felt a deep-seeded jealousy forming and a near palpable desire to receive similar congratulations. The memory of the disappointment on Kathryn's face from my first gymnastics class was still vivid in my mind. I desperately wanted to show off like the other children, but doing so meant accepting Kathryn as something other than a wannabe, an imposter masquerading as my mother. I couldn't fight the fact, however, that I wanted Kathryn and Thomas to be proud of me. As Kathryn entered the gymnasium a few minutes later, her eyes immediately trained on me. She smiled and waved, but she didn't approach, watching me with anticipation. Normally, class was over by the time she and Thomas arrived, but for some reason we were going late. Callie said, "It's your turn, Kaylee. Remember to keep your leg straight, right over the beam before you do the cartwheel." I followed Callie's instructions and just before attempting the cartwheel, I checked my position on the beam. Slowly, I lifted my arms and then moved forward into the cartwheel, planning exactly where I wanted to land. As my legs gracefully passed overhead, I landed the move and then arched back slightly into a lunge to maintain my balance. My eyes darted to see Kathryn's expression as my chest burst with pride. The woman wore a massive grin and clapped her hands excitedly as she walked over. I blurted out, "Did you see what I did?!" Kathryn nodded happily, "Yes, Kaylee. That was amazing, honey. You are getting so good at this." I beamed with pride, feeling about eighteen feet tall in that moment. Callie put her hand on my shoulder, "This is what I've been telling you, Mrs. Patterson. Kaylee is a natural. I think she could get level 3 within six months, and within a year, she could be competing at level 4. She'll be with mostly girls her age. Some a bit older." Kathryn replied, "That's really exciting news, but I'm not sure she wants to compete. I'll talk to Kaylee about it. I'm just really glad she is enjoying the class so much." Callie smiled, "I wasn't sure at first, but she really has this incredible natural balance that is really rare, even in the best gymnasts. I understand that you are a bit worried that the competition might be a bit much, but in a town like Twin Falls, it's the only way to get better. My mom was worried too at first." Callie looked at me with a big smile, "Maybe one day you could be in the Olympics. Would you like that, Kaylee?" I looked at her in surprise and then a tiny smile adorned my face. The sights and sounds of podiums and cheering crowds churned within my mind- a life to be proud of and something for which to strive. The dream of a little girl. Kaylee's dream. And maybe mine too. *** "Um. I was wondering if I could go to a friend's place." Like school, this was an inevitability. Young children asked their parents to leave the house and go to a friend's place. I did it when I was a little boy, and I was doing it now. Perhaps I should have been worried that it didn't feel strange asking for permission to do something that I could have readily done before my change, but I was more concerned with helping Ashley/Madison. And hopefully myself too. Kathryn replied, "That's wonderful, Kaylee! Yes of course you can go. What is her name? Do I know her mother?? I shouldn?t have been surprised that Kathryn would overreact, but I hadn?t anticipated just how excited she would be that Kaylee had finally made a friend. I replied, ?Woah. Her name?s Madison. And it?s not a big deal. Dial it down.? Kathryn said sheepishly, ?Sorry, honey. I?m just happy that you?ve found someone to play with. I just worry sometimes because I never see you playing with any toys. And the only times I hear about you playing in the school yard involve- you getting hurt.? I said, ?So this is about you being worried that I?m not normal.? I watched in the rear view mirror as Kathryn?s face suddenly blanched. However, she recovered quickly, taking a deep breath and then saying, ?Partly. But it has more to do with what you?ve been through, especially in the studio. Part of the fact that you might have trouble making friends is because of what happened. The scary and bad things that happened to you. It also might explain why you don?t play with toys either, being forced to work those long hours and never really getting to be a kid.? I replied caustically, ?So what you take one psych course and suddenly you are an expert?? I had known plenty of people who thought they could diagnose someone because they read a bunch of stuff written by people much smarter than them. Kathryn was a fucking English lit professor. One girl I dated tried to uncover my ?mommy? issues after only a few classes. I dropped her after the second date and our first fuck. Kathryn sighed lightly, ?No. I?m just- I love you, Kaylee. And I care for you. I want you to have a wonderful childhood. One that you can really enjoy and look back on fondly. If there is something stopping you from having that because of an awful thing that happened in the studio, I want to help you. But, like I said, I?m not going to force you. If things don?t work out with your friend, don?t worry- I?m not going to be at her window with a ghetto blaster.? I shook my head, failing to understand the reference. Meanwhile, Kathryn laughed and added, ?So when do you want to go?? *** If the house of a madwoman stood before me, I never would have known it. The terrace garden that Ms. Daniels imagined and the long porch with the swing was absent. It was a simple bungalow a few blocks from the town?s only church. Unlike my house, which was bordered by farms, the area was far more populated, not exactly like breeder central, but the houses were far closer together. Kathryn watched from the car as I approached the door. I knew that if Ms. Daniels opened the door that I could run back to the warm embrace of the woman who was doing everything in her power to get me to love her. But I owed it to Ashley/Madison to at least see it through. If she was with Ms. Daniels, then I would tell Kathryn, and hopefully, she could do something. With trepidation and a heart thudding in my chest, my shaky finger stabbed at the doorbell. With a slight screech the paint-chipped wooden door slowly opened. ?Hello, Kaylee.?