Designer Children Chapter 22

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Chapter 22

“Riley! What’s wrong? I know Eve said she’d be back soon, but I’m going to stay the day with you. And look I brought a friend for you!”

My mind didn’t know how to handle what was happening to me. I was still feeling incredibly hurt, my elite ranking was being whittled away one red streak at a time, and a little blonde girl with dual pigtails was staring at me with eyes so wide I was certain she had just done mushrooms. She slipped in behind Jessica’s lithe form, peeking her head out to stare at what was probably an extremely ‘hot mess’ of a little girl.

For one, I couldn’t stop crying. The tears at first had come slowly merely dribbling down my face, but once I completely lost it, I was quickly soaked. Sandwiched between pathetic sobbing were moans, which while barely intelligible, clearly sounded the word “unfair” multiple times. The pain from the glass entered my knee, the blood and torn flesh- it all made perfect sense. I was six, and my threshold for pain had significantly lowered, but here…here I was crying.

I didn’t even really know why. The game had turned unfair, and I was getting massacred, but was it that, or the fact I couldn’t control myself? Was it because I was doing all of this in front of Jessica of all people? Was it the danger surrounding the arrival of her niece? It had to be the unfairness, but in the chaos, my mind was like one of Hannah’s cats with a fucking laser pointer. Insane. There was no other way to put it. In those moments, where my chest heaved, my now bitten and torn nails pressed firmly into my palms, I didn’t have a mind- rational thought, anything.

“Riley! What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you hurt yourself?”

Jessica was kneeling down in front of me, but I barely noticed her. All I did was point at the screen. The young woman frowned, looking down at the fallen controller before calmly plucking the headset from me.

“Riley, it’s OK, it’s just a game. You can’t always win.”

My lip quivered and a grave sigh wracked my body, expelling what seemed like an impossible amount of air. Seconds later, I heard chatter in the headset.

“Killer Who? I’m her babysitter.”

“Well yes, she’s crying. What’s going on here?” Jessica sounded older than her actual age, but I knew that she hated video games. She had mentioned it on her YouTube channel when asked about starting a Let’s Play. She thought they were a waste of time, and her brother was addicted, which meant she had probably seen all this behaviour before.

“Guys look, I’m just going to turn it off. She’s really upset. I know enough about this to see what’s going on.”

And just like that, Jessica reached forward and pressed the glowing green button on the 360. The machine powered down with a soft hum.

Jessica knelt down in front of me, “It’s OK, Riley. They were picking on you weren’t they?”

I nodded my head glumly and then managed to choke out a pitiful “Uh huh.” My throat felt like I had swallowed a handful of gravel- my voice reduced to a hoarse murmur.

Jessica smiled and then sat down next to me on the couch, “You’re probably better than them, right?”

I nodded, feeling a slight lift in my spirits. Jessica added, “It’s just how it is with some boys, Riley. I had a friend named Nathan, and I was about your age. I used to have a lot of fun with him, except when we played sports. Well I beat him at badminton and he-… he threw a strawberry popsicle in my hair. Boys can just be like that. My brother would get so mad when I’d beat him at a game, especially a video game. They don’t like to lose to us because we are girls. Because we aren’t supposed to be good at stuff like that. But it’s dumb, right?”

“You can do whatever you want, Riley. And don’t let some stupid boys tell you differently. OK?”

It sounded like a feminist pep talk. The whole you can be anything you want- you can be a doctor, an astronaut, or even President of the United States. It was what feminist mothers told their future feminist daughters, but it actually…it actually felt kind of nice, almost comforting. Despite not being a real girl, I certainly felt like one as I was taunted by Spartan, as I cried my eyes out at the unfairness of everything. Ryan Sullivan was never targeted in that way.

I knew that the guys I played with were assholes, even my own teammates could be colossal dickheads sometimes depending on their mood, but I was starting to see the truth in some of Ashley’s words- and now Jessica’s. Guys didn’t like it when they were shown up. At the gym, if a girl benched as much as a guy, they were dykes. They probably had dicks. No, they were expected to look like Jessica. Again, it wasn’t- well it wasn’t fair. But what was I feeling? I knew that I felt sympathy for Ashley and Jessica, but did I only understand their point of view because I was actually starting to think and even act like a girl? I never remember feeling bad for even a second when I would outrun or out throw some girl in my class. If they wanted to play with the boys, they needed to be as good as us. And this transcended to adult life, especially in professional sports. The WNBA is a walking joke, having trouble filling the same venues that sell out night after night for even the worst teams in the NBA. Football is even worse, where the equivalent is lingerie clad models playing some of the most awful football imaginable. Yeah, the girls in their short, barely-there shorts, is hot, but in the end, it is still really bad football. Why watch a sport being played badly when I could ogle girls on my phone with a real sport in the background?

Still, as much as I tried to ignore them, Jessica’s words seeped into my skull, making me feel closer to her. God, it was like some kind of fucking sisterhood. A cult. At least Jessica’s little talk allowed me to stop crying.

“Brianna, come here, sweetie. It’s OK. Why don’t you tell Riley that joke you told me in the car?”

My pity party ended quickly as I realized the danger of my situation. I picked up my phone and sent a text to Eve. Brianna was clearly very shy, but it was obvious that she was here because Jessica wanted us to be friends, and Jessica would push us together even if I tried to fend her niece off with a pointy stick.

Me: what the fuck? Jessica brought her niece u need to get back here ASAP

Eve: shit but can’t super shorthanded 2day try greg

Me: u can’t leave me here with her u know how Jessica is

Eve: I’ve been missing a lot of work lately having to leave early I got a reprimand gotta stay srry gotta go

I texted Greg, but the idiot didn’t answer. He probably had his phone on vibrate. I thought about calling the restaurant, but I would have to leave for the bathroom to do it. The problem was too, when I did it from Mrs. Feinstein’s place, she never asked questions. It made perfect sense that if Greg or Eve was home that Mrs. Feinstein’s services wouldn’t be needed. In this case, we would have to come up with a reason for Jessica and Brianna to leave, and Greg- he sucked at improv.

Brianna approached me cautiously. She was a bright-eyed yet demure little girl, who took short little steps to reach me. Her eyes fluttered and shifted gently in the socket as she gently clasped her hands together. Her every action screamed femininity, like she had been to Mrs. Feinstein’s academy forty years ago or something.

She murmured something, a voice less than a whisper. Jessica frowned gently and then leaned in to whisper something in my ear.

“Brianna, is really shy. If you’re feeling better, would you like to play with her? I know you can’t go outside and see kids your age, so I thought you’d love it if I brought her here.”

I couldn’t help but notice that Brianna was nearly a carbon copy of the scripted Kaylee, the girl who hid behind her big sister; she was quiet and painfully shy. She was so shy, in fact, that she had difficulty making friends. Even her big sister Madison only played with her when no one her age was available. To the scripted Madison, her little sister was always a second choice. So, when Kaylee wished for a friend who would laugh and dance and play with her, Hermie arrived and introduced her to a world of imagination and friendship. Did Brianna have the same difficulties?

I didn’t feel any powerful urge to play with her. Unlike Emma, who could be so bossy, or the girl from the beach, she wasn’t holding a skipping rope in my face or telling me my name was Cecily. She was just there. Girls like her, forever wallflowers, were practically invisible next to girls like Jessica. They sat at the bar, nursed the same drink for an hour as their friends danced and got hit on.

As I looked at the quietly smiling Brianna, I felt a strange sense of sympathy. Or something. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but even through her smile, I could tell the girl was sad. She probably had trouble making friends because she was so shy. I mean I wasn’t about to ask her to play dolls or something, but we could probably play Monopoly- as long as it wasn’t Frozen themed.

Plus, it would be fun.

I said, “Let’s play Monopoly.” The smile on Brianna’s face widened.

It was clear that Brianna wasn’t as dangerous as I initially thought. Monopoly, meanwhile, was the perfect game because it would could easily eat three hours, and if Brianna got bored, I would just suggest another board game. Thankfully, Greg and Eve, who had apparently turned into an old married couple since my time in the studio, had a closet full of board games.

Once all the properties were bought up, it was pretty clear that I was going to win. I had Boardwalk and Park Place, not to mention all the railroads. As I realized this, I felt a tiny spark of energy enter my body. This spark raced toward my brain, filling it with all manner of warm and fuzzy thoughts. It was exactly the same sensation that prompted me to flap my arms after winning the Frozen-themed snakes and ladders game.

It was a seemingly inescapable burst, like an exploding frag grenade that flung flesh-rending shrapnel in all directions. I squeezed my legs together, gently rocking back and forth, desperately trying to contain the building excitement. Jessica landed on one of my properties and my face split into a massive smile.

This level of excitement was expected in a game of Halo where I was dominating, but not in a simple game of Monopoly. However, the little girl inside of me that wanted to screech in joy as Jessica handed over hundreds of dollars of fake money was not easily contained.

“Do you have to go to the washroom, Riley?”

My face burned, and while I would have accepted a life-sapping plague at that moment as the culprit, it was entirely from embarrassment. I hurriedly shook my head.

“Sorry, Brianna kind of does that when she’s really holding it in. It’s your turn.”

Just as I was picking up the dice, the apartment door burst open. Brianna shouted in fright, which was the most noise she had made all day. A red-faced and sweating Greg entered, and while it was clear he had something to say, his ragged breathing prevented him from vocalizing it. He bent over, sucking in air like an industrial shop vac. He took a step, but his gait was unsteady as he reached for a hand hold that simply wasn’t there. Jessica moved over to him and led him quickly to the couch.

Jessica sighed, “I guess you didn’t get Eve’s text?”

Greg shook his head slowly. His breathing was slowing, and the cherry red colour of his cheeks was gradually returning to its usual pale white.

Jessica said, “We’re doing just fine here if you want to head back to work.” She turned her head toward me and then Brianna, “Right, girls?” Brianna nodded her head with a smile. I shrugged, unsure if Brianna would remain harmless if she stayed. Although, if she left, I wouldn’t get my eagerly awaited Monopoly win.

Greg, who had finally managed to catch his breath, said, “It’s OK, Jessica. I can stay with Riley if you need to head out. When do you have to have Brianna back?”

Jessica replied, “About dinner time. Don’t worry about it though. You can go back to the Palace. Everything is fine here. Riley and Brianna are getting along great.”

Greg shook his head, “It’s too late to go back now. I already called someone in.”

Jessica smiled, “Alright, then you can be banker.” She handed Greg the tray with the paper play money. Greg looked confused, nonetheless; he still took the tray. He looked at me for approval, and I simply nodded. Time passed quickly. Greg got into his role, even hamming it up with Jessica when she went bankrupt.

At that point, it was down to Brianna and me, and based on my properties and hotel placement, I was still assured victory.

Unfortunately, Monopoly is really fucking long, and as Brianna lost more and more money, she started to fidget. Then, it would take forever for her to roll the dice, then equally as long for her to count her moves. It was infuriating because all I wanted to do was win. Win. Win. Win.

Jessica said, “I think I should take Brianna home. Traffic is probably going to be really bad.” It was obvious she sensed that a tantrum was on the horizon. Greg nodded in agreement.

I wanted to scream, to shout, to kick my legs and displace all the game pieces. Brianna was losing, and she…wait, it was Monopoly, right? Realization struck, and the bizarre fog that had clouded my mind lifted. It was a board game and nothing else.

Just before she left, Brianna said, “Bye, Riley. T-Thanks for the fun game.” Jessica beamed, giving me a look that would have meant a lot more if I was in the body of an adult male. It also would have meant something else too, beyond what was likely appreciation for playing with her practically mute niece. Moments later, she and Brianna were gone.

Greg said, “You OK, Ryan? I didn’t get here too late, did I?”

I shook my head, “It was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

I saw the afternoon as a clear success. Any childlike impulses were quickly reined in, and while I had desperately wanted to win at Monopoly, I avoided what would have been an embarrassing tantrum. Had I kicked my legs, shrieked and whined at being denied my victory, I never would have been able to look at Jessica the same way, as Riley or Ryan.

***

It was the next day. The summer heat was stifling, especially in the apartment. The heat hung heavily in the air, almost tangible. I really hoped Jessica was serious about buying the air conditioner, because even as slight as I was, the heat was still killer. I sat on the couch dressed only in a pair of shorts, a part of me wishing I was at the beach. At that point, I would have also accepted being hosed off like Duke after he rolled around in shit.

Suddenly, Eve’s phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Eve was sleeping, back from a near fourteen hour shift at the hospital. She was better with her phone than Greg, considering she actually left the ringer on most of the time. Because of the nature of her work, with emergencies in the middle of night, hours after the Palace was either open or after it closed, she could receive calls to come into work.

But really, I was going to look anyway, logic or not.

Ms. McDavid was calling.

I partially regretted looking at the phone because immediately my hand began to shake gently and my breathing quickened. Was it more paperwork? Problems with our story? Was the social worker doing another visit? From my understanding, Eve was still working on things. What that hopefully meant was that she told the social worker to fuck off and mind her business but in a more pleasant way. What was the issue anyway? I was never or really rarely home alone anymore with either Eve, Jessica or Greg home, and Mrs. Feinstein would be home in less than a week. The medical condition stuff was bullshit. I was six, and sometimes, my body reacted that way.

The call went to voicemail.

I decided to leave it alone, knowing that Eve would be pissed if I listened to the message before her. Still, I couldn’t help but remain curious, and a little anxious. Throughout the day, as Eve slept, whenever I looked at the flashing blue light on her phone, my hand shook gently.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Eve got up, picked up her phone and listened to the message. I looked at her expectantly. Unlike Greg, whose thoughts were tied directly to his expressions, Eve managed a calm impassiveness.

The waiting was killing me. I should have just listened to the message. Before my change, it is exactly what I would have done, but now, apparently I had respect for Eve’s privacy or something. “Well, what the fuck did she say?”

Eve replied evenly, “It’s just some paperwork Greg and I have to fill out. Standard stuff.”

I nodded, feeling my breathing normalize and my hand stop shaking, “So nothing about that summer camp she wanted me to go to?”

Eve shook her head, “Nothing like that. But you’ll have to stay with Jessica tomorrow. Oh and sorry about Brianna. I had no idea she was going to bring her. I guess things went OK though, other than that?”

I replied, “Yeah. It was fine.”

Eve nodded, “OK, Ryan.”

***

Waves of cool air beat back the oppressive heat. I held my fingers in front of the 8000 Btu Air Master until they grew frigid.

Jessica said, “You know they’ll fall off if you keep them there too long, right?”

I laughed, but it was a tittering, giggly laugh, like tiny bells tinkling down a long silver chain. A great sigh escaped my body, but Jessica seemingly ignored it. She said, “I’ve got another surprise for you too.”

I knew it wouldn’t be anything good, but I tried not to look like Jessica was about to hand me a bunch of rotten eggs. Jessica reached into one of the many shopping bags she brought and pulled out a pink suitcase. It looked eerily familiar to the case from the studio- the one that was full of tiny plastic shoes, bracelets, assorted clothing…

Jessica smiled as she reached down to unclasp the case. Barbie dolls, now released from their plastic prison, tumbled out onto the floor. Some of them looked well worn, like they had spent time in the sun, causing their plastic skin to fade. A mad hairstylist or at least someone who wasn’t good with scissors had given a few of the Barbies ‘creative’ styles. It was clear too that a dog had chewed off the hands of a few of them, as they were left with mangled plastic stumps.

“These were mine when I was a little girl. I got them last week when I went home. I want you to have them, Riley.”

My heart fluttered, allowing the fog to once again cloud my mind. Jessica gave the case another shake, dislodging a Barbie who had been stubbornly hanging from the lip of the container. It fell within an inch of my hand. I looked down and saw beautiful golden tresses mixed with purple and pink and a slender body wearing a pretty light blue bathing suit. Despite the fog, the doll’s ever smiling face sent a shiver of fear up my spine. I knew that taking the plastic toy into my hands would place my mind in a child-like state, one where imagination was boundless. Memories of the toilet paper roll Olaf watching Elsa skate gracefully across the bathroom floor flooded in, causing my hand to recoil from the doll. I couldn’t help but feel like an addict, the uneasy hand reaching toward the pill, the pipe, the needle- knowing that one hit would bring clouded bliss, but like the drug, it would erase my identity, everything I was, until only a smiling little girl remained. Perhaps one at docile and timid as Brianna. Her perfect twin.

Jessica asked, “What’s wrong, Riley? I brought these just for you. We can have so much fun with them. Look at this one.” She picked up the Barbie closest to my hand. “You can change her hair colour with cold and warm water. Ooh and this one is really special because you can braid and bead her hair. Or this one is really fun too! I used to play with her all the time!”

Jessica smiled and thrust a doll into my hands. Looking down, I saw a Barbie wearing a blue and white apron with the “Sweet Treat Café” written on the front in bright pink cursive letters.

Jessica grinned while pulling out a plastic playset from a shopping bag. “Ooh. This is the best. My sister and I used to play for hours with this.” I watched her set up a small kitchen and store front. The Sweet Treat Café was coming to life before my eyes. “See the little oven works here, and there’s a little dinger when it’s done. And there’s some tables for the customers and a counter for them to pay.”

As I listened to Jessica’s words, I grew more and more interested in what she had to say. It wasn’t like my mind became a blank, but as I held the doll, the act of playing restaurant seemed infinitely more interesting than a stupid dumb game of Halo, minus even the massive hit my kill-to-death ratio took. It was fun to pretend and to do things that little girls couldn’t do- yet. I got excited as I saw a baby stroller and suddenly loved the idea that one of the customers could be a Barbie mommy with a baby. I wanted a chance to play the mommy too. And then, Jessica took out another case that was just outfits and I lost it. The bright stylized clothing included skirts, shoes, swim suits, full ball gowns! The clothing hung on tiny plastic hangars. My eyes glazed over, an impossibly wide smile causing my cheeks to dimple, and I saw hundreds of possibilities.

I desperately kept trying to tell myself that this wasn’t me- it was the serum. It was the thing eating away at Ryan Sullivan like a wasting disease. The serum wanted me to be Riley but mostly Brianna. Jessica’s enthusiasm wasn’t helping either. Apparently all little girls played with dolls at some point, even Ashley, who was practically a feminist, had played with Barbies and practiced hair styles using a life-sized plastic head.

“I’ll bake a cake.” The words didn’t so much as escape my mouth as dance, a free flowing movement of pure childlike joy.

Jessica said, “See, I told you that you’d have fun with it. It doesn’t mean you can’t do both, Riley. But you see how it’s fun to pretend? You can make any story you want. Be anyone you want.”

I controlled the doll as she busied herself in the kitchen, telling Jessica, “OK! My name is Melissa, and this is my restaurant. All Melissa’s friends are coming to try her chocolate cake.” I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having, especially as Jessica began setting up the store front with tables and chairs. She carefully placed all of Melissa’s friends in the waiting chairs.

I practically jumped with excitement as the oven timer went off, which then prompted Melissa to carefully remove the delicious smelling cake from the oven. There was even a pretend knife and pretend slices of cake. All of the friends ate the cake and had big glasses of milk to wash it down with. Then we switched, and I became Theresa with her little baby girl. She even walked with the stroller!

Internally, I knew I was in danger of losing myself, but it didn’t matter. I still knew who I was, and I still had my memories, but the things Ryan did- well they were gross. Drinking made Ryan sick and sex. Yeah. I didn’t want to think about anything except for the baby in a mommy’s tummy and how cute it was when it came out. I knew how they were made, but just the thought of it was so…yucky.

Just as Theresa was about to take her baby for a long walk, Jessica yelped. My eyes grew as I watched a tiny bit of blood trickle from her finger. Jessica was going to need a band-aid. Maybe I could share one of my Frozen ones with her? As I looked down at the cut, I noticed what had caused it.

Jessica brought her finger to her mouth and gently sucked at the blood. “Ryan was definitely here. Really surprised that he would leave this here though. Hey, can I ask you something, Riley? What was he like? How did you treat you?”

Whatever force that had previously seized my mind, leaving me in a Barbie-induced nightmare fled the moment I saw my dad’s pin. It brought powerful memories of my life as Ryan Sullivan to the forefront of my mind. I remembered going moose hunting with my dad. It required trekking deep into the woods, waking up before dawn and lugging heavy gear. We never managed to kill a moose, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the bonding I did with my dad. I would watch him sip Jack, and we would talk about movies, sports and even dad’s work when he felt up to it. He would let me sip the Jack and laugh as I took a swig, my face contorting like I had swallowed turpentine.

I managed to free myself from the Barbie’s grip, quickly pushing away from the pile of plastic as if it were a pool of sulphuric acid. While the pin and the memory had saved me from a permanent role as Riley, I wanted to take the doll in my hand again, to feel the freedom, the simplicity of childhood, unattached to failures of Ryan- just a little girl with a whole world to discover.

Jessica asked, “What’s wrong, Riley? Don’t you want to keep playing?”

I shook my head fiercely, moving even further from the Barbies. Once I was halfway across the room, the pull, the temptation to play with them was lessened. Despite the return of my adult mind, I assumed a thoroughly childish position, tightly hugging my knees while I gently rocked back and forth. How close had I been to losing myself entirely?

Jessica frowned deeply, “Riley, what’s wrong, sweetie? You can tell me. Ryan didn’t hurt you did he?” Again, I shook my head.

There was something else though. It wasn’t only the fact that I had nearly lost myself. The memory of my dad, combined with the uneasy, sometimes uncontrollable emotions wrought upon my small frame made me realize something.

I really missed him, and I hated the fact that he was dead. It was like him dying fucked up my whole life. He was everything I wanted to be…and I really- well I loved him. We had never said anything like that to each other, but this body, with its cavalcade of emotions, allowed me to see that, and with that, again, came the waterworks. Years of pent up emotions burst to the surface, like some long dormant volcano, and Jessica was quick to respond. She held me in her arms, hugged me tightly, and whispered comfort into my ear.

“Shh. Shh. It’s okay, Riley.”

She reminded me so much of Ashley when I first realized that this body wasn’t the result of some really bad weed or worse. She was strong but caring and undeniably feminine. I warbled, trying to say that I missed my dad, but it came out more as unintelligible staccato whines.

Eventually, through a combination of Jessica’s soothing voice and touch and just crying myself out, I stopped, the cries reduced to little sniffles of sadness. Jessica asked, “Do you want to tell me what was bothering you, Riley? It can sometimes help to tell someone else.”

Without thinking I replied with a sniffle, “I-I miss my dad.” I couldn’t believe it, but just saying the words was a huge relief. It was like someone had me in a chokehold, slowly strangling me, but with the words, I could breathe again.

Jessica said, “I’m so sorry, Riley. That must be really hard for you sweetie. I bet he was a lot of fun. You know as long as we remember the people that are gone, as long as we tell their stories, they’ll never be completely gone. It must have been so hard for you in the orphanage after he died. But you know there are people in your life now that love you. Greg and Eve, they want to be your parents. They love you. And I love spending time with you, and I’m sure Mrs. Feinstein will be happy to see you again.”

“T-There never was an orphanage. None of that is true.”

Jessica raised a brow, “What do you mean, Riley?”

I replied, “I’m not really Riley or Kaylee. I know it’s probably really hard to believe…you know considering the fact I was just crying my fucking eyes out before, but I’m Ryan.”

And just like that, another immense weight was lifted from my shoulders. I wasn’t sure if it was just the torrent of emotions or the fact that I had nearly succumbed to the serum, but the words came out far easier than I ever expected. OK, Jessica would probably look at me strangely the first time we’d have sex, but it wouldn’t matter. It was clear to me that it was better for Jessica to know both because of the help she could potentially offer (while also keeping Barbies and any other temptations away from me) and because I really liked her. I wanted to tell her the truth because I was sick of lying to her, and she deserved better.

She looked at me curiously. It wasn’t disbelief, but I could also see she didn’t put much credence in my words. Finally, she settled into confusion, “Is this part of a game you played with Ryan? I know Ryan lost his dad, but it doesn’t seem like it’s very fun, Riley. What’s this all about, sweetie? Did Ryan remind you of your dad? You worked with him on the Hermie show, right?”

I said firmly, “Call Eve or Greg. They’ll tell you.”

Jessica shook her head slowly and sighed. “OK, I’ll play along for now, ‘Ryan’, but I don’t really understand your game.”

“Hey. Yeah things here are OK. I’m just a bit worried about Riley though. She wants me to call her Ryan. Does she do the same thing with you?”

“Well she told me that there wasn’t an orphanage. But before she was really upset about her dad. Now that I think about it though, the news said that Kaylee never knew her parents. She was brought there as a baby. Is this a game you let her play?” Jessica put emphasis on her last words, adding a clearly judgmental tone.

“I don’t think it’s healthy, Eve. I’m guessing Ryan really made an impression on her, and she’s seeing him as some kind of father figure. Stop. Stop. Eve. What you’re saying isn’t possible.” I watched as Jessica slowly stood up. Her grip tightened around her cell phone.

She practically barked into the phone, “Eve! Eve! Enough. She’s a kid. Considering what she’s been through this is probably a normal reaction, but maybe you should. Just wait I’m going to go in the other room.”

She looked down at me with those same soft, sympathetic eyes. It was probably the same way she looked at an injured puppy. “Sorry, sweetie, I’ll be done in a minute, then we can play something else OK? You think about what you want Theresa to do next. Maybe she could push her baby on the swing?”

Jessica walked into the bedroom, where she continued her conversation by yelling a lot. Meanwhile, I was left in a room full of Barbie dolls. The allure was not unlike nights spent in clubs. It was like a girl on the dance floor with a perfectly round Brazilian ass peeking out under a dress a few inches too short, big ripe tits and a sweet and spicy perfume. Gyrations, jiggling and bass thumping in my chest, practically rattling my ribcage, it all drew me to her.

Now, I was looking at the Barbie dolls the same way. Not with lust of course, but with this powerful desire.

I wanted to make them walk, talk, push strollers.

I wanted to brush, bead and braid their hair, then I wanted my own hair to look like theirs.

I wanted to make them wear pretty dresses, but not only that, I wanted to have them put on a fashion show, trying each outfit until I found the perfect one. The one that looked the prettiest. Then I’d do the same thing with all the dresses that I knew were still in my Hello Kitty bag in the closet.

My right hand reached out, slithering through the accessories and playsets, seeking out Theresa and her baby. It would be so easy to lose myself- to just be Riley and become Eve and Greg’s daughter- to go to school and have friends, and be happy. The fight brought misery. My head started pounding as my fingers felt the touch of the molded plastic. As my hand closed on the doll, the pounding stopped.

Blood trickled from my left hand. I hadn’t realized it, but I had been firmly clenching my dad’s pin while my traitorous right hand searched out Theresa. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but all I knew was that the pin had saved me. The plastic doll, which moments ago had held the same allure before my change as a version of Jessica with Monique’s tits, was now nothing more than a toy. It wasn’t imagination, a world where Riley or Kaylee could exist without having to battle the serum on a daily basis. It was simply something that Ryan Sullivan didn’t want.
The doll flew across the room as I continued to stare at the pin.
“Holy shit. Is it… how is it even possible? I mean I know what Eve said, but are you- really Ryan?”

I hadn’t even heard Jessica re-enter the room, but it was obvious she had seen everything.

Ignoring the dull throb in my hand from the pin prick, I gathered my courage, again thinking of my dad and said, “Yes. It’s all true. Don’t you think it’s weird that a six year old doesn’t have any toys? Don’t you think Greg and Eve would have bought some for me? Fuck, Jessica, do I sound like any six year old girl you’ve ever known? I mean look at this.”

I woke Greg’s laptop from its sleep state and Googled an article on Kinesiology, which I proceeded to read aloud. It was full of scientific terminology, and I didn’t flub one word.

“But…why would you want to play with dolls? And you were having so much fun too.”

I shrugged, “Do I really have to answer that? Or can I just tell you the joke about the fucking fitness model and the contortionist. It’s the serum. It’s why I missed our date. The serum is trying to make me into this perfect little girl. Like dresses and pink and unicorn fairies. It also makes me want to play with toys and be around kids, especially girls. I don’t really understand how it happened. Something about the human genome. Eve’s got some researchers at the hospital studying some info I smuggled from the lab in the studio. They’re looking for a cure. All I know is that it gets worse when I start playing with toys or when I’m around kids.”

Jessica frowned, “I guess that bringing all these dolls over here didn’t help. And Brianna,” she put her hand over her mouth as her eyebrows shot to the shy, “Oh shit. Did her being here mess you up?”

I said firmly, practically scoffing at her question, “Brianna was harmless.”

Jessica smiled wryly, “Mm. Hmm. And the dolls? What about them? I hadn’t told Eve I was bringing them over, but when I said you were playing with dolls over the phone-“

I shook my head, “Look, it’s not a big deal. I can handle it.”

Jessica smirked, “Same old Ryan. I still remember on our date when you jammed your fingers in the door of the restaurant trying to open it for me. I was like, OK- he’s going to cry or scream or something, and you just continued the date. Even when Eve said you should ice it or maybe go to the hospital, you just kept wincing in pain.” She laughed, “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that was? Who were you trying to impress exactly?”

I cleared my throat gently, “You. Like I said, I didn’t really know how to talk to you or act around you. Most of the girls I’d ‘dated’ before were just impressed that I could bang them against the wall.”

Jessica wrinkled her nose, “Lovely.” She then looked down at me. I felt like I was under a microscope, a blobby specimen wedged between two thin pieces of glass. Her eyes discovered me as she gently furrowed her brow, “Wait a minute. So when I was showing you those exercises and doing all that stretching, you were-“

I grinned, “Enjoying fucking the view.” Jessica didn’t need to know everything, especially not that I felt absolutely nothing for her body, and worse, I had images of myself all grown up looking just like her.

“Anyway, uh, I should have told you earlier. And you probably shouldn’t bring Brianna or those dolls here the next time.”

Jessica began stuffing the Barbie dolls back into their pink plastic case. She looked up at me with a smile, “Avengers again?”

I grinned, “Fuck yeah.”

***

“Wow, so you really told her? How did she take it?”

“She was cool about it. I’m just glad she’s not trying to do crafts or play Barbies with me anymore.”

Greg smirked, “I was really looking forward to the macaroni pictures you were going to make for me.”

A fist dug deep into the fleshiest part of Greg’s arm. “Okay, that actually hurt. Did you have to dig your knuckles in so much?”

“You’re lucky that I didn’t punch you in the mouth after talking shit like that.”

Greg nodded slowly, “Yeah. OK. So you still don’t have a sense of humour about what happened to you.”

I glared at him, “I’m in the body of a fucking six year old girl. I don’t see how there’s anything funny about it.”

Greg replied, “Haven’t you ever seen ‘It’s a Beautiful Life?’” I shook my head, and Greg continued, “It’s about a Jewish man and his son. They are sent to a concentration camp during the Second World War. Despite everything that’s happened to them, the horrors of the camp, the dad does everything he can to make his son not feel like he is in a concentration camp. It’s obviously not the same thing, but he was able to joke and clown his way through it to help maintain his son’s innocence. Do you think maybe you’d be happier if you tried to see some of the humour in this?”

I said, “No, I fucking don’t. I don’t think it’s funny at all feeling like I’m losing myself, piece by piece. I don’t think it’s funny that I’m getting these images of me all grown up in this body. Like it could actually be mine for longer than a few more months. I can’t believe I’m even telling you this.”

Greg said, “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help. Anyway, I’m glad that Jessica knows now. You wanna play Halo?”

Memories of the red streaks across my screen, a continuous cycle of death, failure and humiliation, flooded my mind. It was the dismantling of Killer_Six. I was waiting too long to answer Greg. Normally, I would have jumped at the opportunity to destroy Greg, but I just…I didn’t want to risk losing again, especially to him. If that happened, I might as well just delete my account.

“Come on, are you Ryan or Riley?”

“Little girl’s afraid to play cause she’ll get beat? If you don’t want to play Halo, I could go out and get you a brand new Barbie doll. You could brush her hair while I play.”

My bottom lip trembled, but I quickly turned my face away from Greg. It was normal for Greg to trash talk, but it never hurt this much before. His trash talk, even after my change, consisted of him saying he would beat me but he had never brought my forced gender into it. My anger had long since fled, replaced with a terrible sprawling humiliation, as if inside my head blackened tendrils toyed with my confidence and ego.

Why was he being so mean to me? I thought we were friends.

“Or are you Kaylee?

The tendrils were melted as red-hot angry lava spewed over them. I picked up the 360 controller and turned on the console, ready to deal constant pain to Greg.

Cold, calculated and precise. These were the only words to describe my absolute victory. I annihilated him with laser barrages, sniper shot and good old fashioned rocket fire. Then, I forced him to play me in Gears of War (even if he never played it), so I could chainsaw his face. It was unbelievably satisfying to see that I could still win but also that I could feel satisfaction from that win.

As I wreaked havoc on him in the final death match, I was surprised to see a tiny smile on his face. Apparently, he liked being blown to bits.

***

“Eve, your phone!”

“Eve, your fucking phone is ringing!”

Eve had been asleep for two hours, finishing her fourth day of split shifts. It was obvious what was happening. The same thing happened at the Palace when we wanted to get rid of someone: give them the shittiest hours and hope they eventually quit. Once again, my emotions surprised me. Before my change, I would have given absolutely no fucks about Eve’s predicament, and based on how I was feeling, I might have actually been a little happy. Not overjoyed, but at least pleased that the buzzing gnat in Greg’s ear, telling him that I was a massive asshole, was getting her comeuppance.

Like an aching hunger, it felt like bony fingers were squeezing my stomach, but no amount of pop tarts or leftover lasagna could sate me. The force gripping my innards and pricking at my mind was guilt and a deep sense of something…else. It wasn’t like guilt was a new emotion. I wasn’t a robot. But it wasn’t the same, not like when I would sleep with a girl and then not call her for a few days afterwards- or never. I figured we were just having fun, literally screwing around, but apparently targeting vulnerable girls meant increased baggage and awkward phone calls, text messages and sometimes angry knocking at my door. I felt bad for them, but the sense that I had hurt them deeply, used them to fill my own needs and then forgotten about them- it never remained beyond a few days, a week at most.

It was impossible to deny that I saw Eve differently now. I had told her things I never would have told anyone. Not even Hannah.

The call went to voicemail.

While I tried to concentrate on a game of Halo, the blue flashing light tempted me, like long silky legs in a pair of fuck me heels. Even when I turned back to the game, my confidence renewed after consecutively murdering Greg for the last four days, I could still see it out of the corner of my eye.

It could have been the hospital. Eve would be fucked if she missed a shift. It seemed impossible that they would call her back in after a twelve hour split shift where she had a two-hour break. Still, Eve would probably be pissed if I didn’t let her know, especially if it was the hospital. Obviously, it was somewhat important if the caller had left a message.

One missed call- Ms. McDavid.

My heart hung in my chest and the ache of guilt became a fierce grinding. The skeletal fingers prodding my stomach were now crushing it.

“It’s probably just a follow-up or whatever. The paperwork.”

I returned to my game, intent on ignoring the flashing blue light indicated an unheard message. A half hour later, with the blue light flashing in my eyeballs like some crazed laser pointer, my curiosity got the better of me.

“Ms. Mendes. This is Ms. Bronwyn McDavid calling. I know this is very difficult for you, especially because it’s clear to me how much you love Kaylee and want her to be part of your family. I’m here to offer any support I can. As Kaylee’s state social worker, I can walk you through the process. I know when we spoke a few days ago about the open adoption that you were understandably upset. I don’t take any of what you said to me personally, but you have to understand that based on Kaylee’s unique situation, it is best to let a judge determine who she should be placed with. I’m very sorry it has come to this, but the board agreed that a public adoption is best. Please call me back, Ms. Mendes.”

“End of message. Press 7 to save this message. Press 8 to delete or 9 to reply.”

“No command received.”

“Please enter a command.”

“No command received. Please try again. Goodbye.”

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Comments

That ending though. . .

Speaking of gut wrenching skeletal fingers. You, you're just evil! Argh!

My love is God, let's go get a slushie. . .

That ending though. . .

Speaking of gut wrenching skeletal fingers. You, you're just evil! Argh!

My love is God, let's go get a slushie. . .

And here we go

The pendulum is almost to his neck. You really like stretching this as long as possible. I freaking refresh this site like 2000 times a day to just hope you've put up another chapter. I don't know how or why you've hooked me this hard. I just know I HAVE to know what happens. I HAVE to know how it all ends. I mean... this is big closet so I've got a pretty good idea of the outcome (especially considering the Sidereus prophecy) and also the fact this is using super sci fi science that no one nowadays could ever reproduce (not at our current technology anyway).

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D

My impatience

This is what I get for reading the story as you post it, rather than all at once like I did with the Siderious Prophecy. A depressing cliffhanger, and now I have to wait to see any kind of resolution!

Great story, and great job getting people to care about your characters!

Law of Adoption

It is so difficult to actually separate a child from their parents, it requires so many court hearings, and leaving a child alone for awhile wouldn't cut it. Now, Eve and Greg are not Ryan's parents in this story, or even legally her foster parents, so that would definitely change the process. I would imagine that courts are inclined to grant an adoption as long as the parents are fit, and there are no legal issues, with a relatively low threshold of "fitness." That said, deference would likely be given to a social worker. Family law isn't my area, and this particular type of situation would be exceedingly rare, so I'm not sure which laws to apply. The overwhelming majority of adoptions would be of relatives, step-children, or from a process started before birth. In the majority of those, there is no contest to the adoptions, and the potential parents are fit, at least relative to the child's other options. Orphanages don't really exist in modern America, having been replaced by foster care or group homes. Adoption of orphans by non-foster parents or relatives is a rarity.

You are obviously putting thought into the legal intricacies of the situation, which I, at least, appreciate, as I always ask those questions. For my own curiosity, I wonder if you've actually looked up California adoption procedures. What did they say?

A cursory glance seems to pull up that the proper procedure would be for Greg and Eve to file a petition for adoption. This being an adoption not done through an adoption agency, or by relatives, foster parents, or step parents, California's department of child services would have to make a report to the court regarding the suitability of the prospective parents. Considering all facts, if the court is satisfied that "the interest of the child will be promoted by the adoption," they may enter the order of adoption. None of this really goes into what DCS does, or when and how they would get involved. All of that would require research into their particular regulations. Nor does what I've looked at say anything about caring for an un-adopted child. I can only say that most courts would much rather place a child with someone they know and have a relationship with, when those potential parents are willing and able. It is a rare court that would place a child in foster care over willing parents, unless those parents are manifestly unfit. I have no idea just how much deference would be given to DCS, however.

I did look into this

I reviewed adoption guidelines for California and even tried to find case law on this particular issue (where multiple parties are attempting to adopt a single child). Ryan is technically a ward of the state as he has no parents or legal guardian. A court would obviously give deference to Greg and Eve as his first caregivers because of the relationship that was established and the level of trust that exists, but the judge will always make a ruling based on what would be in the best interest of the child. What living situation would be best for Ryan? There are other factors such as the fitness of the potential guardian obviously but the decision always falls to those best interests. So if it was demonstrated that staying with Greg and Eve was not in Ryan's best interest, there could be trouble. Thanks for reading and providing such a detailed analysis!

This is too much!

Aurum's picture

You're story is first-rate. When I started it, it was just mildly interesting. However, during that time you've created a story where I truly care about the characters and check daily to see if you've posted another chapter. You're story has caused me to completely suspend my disbelief. Thank you for one of the best stories I've ever read on Bigcloset.

new chaoters

I'm pretty sure its Wednesday and Saturday. That's the pattern I've noticed anyway.

My love is God, let's go get a slushie. . .

Ryan

That big pile of do do in front of you...Don't step in it!

alissa

Rock and hard place

Jamie Lee's picture

Ryan is really in a spot. Jessica almost tipped him over the edge with the dolls, thanks to his arrogance. Had he and Eve sat her down and told her the truth, she may have helped.

And Greg, he knew what he was doing by getting Ryan wound up before playing Halo. If he could focus Ryan on who he is then the urge to change would be lessened.

But now the big problem has hit the fan, and Ryan forever being truly Kaylee is at stake. Because as hard as it was to convince Jessica Kaylee was actually Ryan, a judge will be almost impossible to convince. Plus, if the judge investigates the claim, those in the Government involved in the project will then be after Kaylee to permanently silence her. Or work to complete the conversion to silence her. Either way, going before a judge will not be good.

Others have feelings too.