.The boy on the Milk Carton
Written by Dauphin
Who was the boy on the milk carton?
"Once in a while we get a gem, and this one had my hankies out and emotions flowing" Diana
"I did not want a story about MtF, but turning the story upside down and was a bit original. I really had fun doing this and it was like I was living in the story! " Dauphin
The boy on the Milk Carton
We sat on a red and white rug in the middle of a field. I felt like I was in heaven. We were in the middle of Gods nature and could smell the country spring air. We sat and ate chicken legs and other things mom packed and was even allowed to drink coke because it was a special day. It was my birthday. I was now 12 years old and we were celebrating it. We were also celebrating that I survived the doctor yesterday. He gave me a huge shot. I tell you the needle was so big.
I went to the doctor quite often. It’s embarrassing to tell you why. The fact is that my clitoris is not like other girls. Mine looks like a little penis. This means I have to have tablets every day and the injection should help. When you think of it, it made no difference. It’s not like I went around naked! I was as pretty as any other girl. In fact many said my long hair was beautiful. I had just as nice clothes as other girls
Let me tell you about my family. I am not embarrassed to tell you that my family was the happiest family in the world. My mom and Dad were happy people that loved us and treated us well. We had all the love we could ever want, and they spent a lot of time with us. We had the best clothes and the best toys. I had a bigger brother that was 14. We did not look alike, but we got on well together. I know a lot of girls thought their brothers were annoying, but my brother Mike was cool and he was nice with me. I was the youngest, and Mom and Dad called me the princess of the family. My name is Sabrina. Sometimes Mike called me Barbie, because I liked to dress in pretty dresses and things.
That night, mom came to me with one of the tablets. She sat on my bed while she brushed my hair. We were talking about the picnic. I gave her a huge hug and thanked her for such a good day. She smiled and asked did I pack for school.
“We have gym tomorrow,” I said
“Remember when you take a shower to use the private ones. We do not want other girls looking at you”
“You always say that mom. I do not mind if they see me or not”
“You are so sweet, but you must understand that some girls will laugh at your body”
“I know you are talking about my clitoris. I want to ask God why it is so big and why I do not have any boobs yet. I would be happy just with bumps.”
“God created you and he loves you the way you are. You are the prettiest girl in your class. Now let us say you're good night prayers.”
Mum always knew how to make me feel better.
I loved going to school. I had lots of friends. I was also quite smart and did well in classes. I loved when we sat on a bench during break time and would talk about teachers, homework, the latest boy band and which boys in class we liked or not. Everyone said that Ken fancied me. I never did understand why he would fancy me. I considered him a good friend and liked to watch him play football… but I did not want to marry him.
Today Sandy had her baby book with her. We all looked at pictures of her as a new-born baby and how she grew to be a toddler. There was a lock of her baby hair and a print of her hand. Her mom wrote about the first time that she walked as well as the first words she ever said. Sandy was a cute baby and I thought it was sweet how she could look back at her life as a baby.
When I came home, I looked at all the pictures of Mike and me. There were no pictures of us as babies. I then looked through all the drawers and could not find any. When I asked mom where my baby book was, she started stammering that I had no baby book. She never considered having one. This was not good enough, as to why could I not see how I looked like as a baby? I asked were their photos? It was strange that I felt like the most photographed girl in the world, and yet there were no baby pictures. I didn’t get an answer as mom said she had to lie down. It looked like she was about to cry!
I went into Mike’s room and we just read his comics in quietness.
“What is the matter,” he said after a while
“There are no baby photos of us. Why?”
“Is that all? Sometimes you say the strangest things. Most likely they got destroyed in some accident or are hidden in the attic.”
“You are right. They must have been destroyed. That is why mom was so sad when I mentioned them.”
Mom called us out. She was smiling again and said we could have milk and cookies. As we were eating, Mike was looking at the milk carton. There was a picture of a missing child. Mike laughed and said the picture looked like me. I grabbed the milk and told him to stop being daft. It was a picture of a boy and the boy was a toddler! Before I could say more, Mom snatched the milk from me. She looked at the picture and started to breathe heavily. She had a worried look on her face as she threw the carton in the dustbin. Then she said she had to lie down.
It seems like many at school had the same thoughts. They all said I looked like the little boy on the carton. The school nurse even called me in. She wanted to hear about my clitoris and what medicine I took. It was embarrassing to talk about and she asked to see it. She looked shocked, but was polite and said I could go back to class.
I didn’t tell mom or dad about what people were saying or what the nurse did. My mind was put to rest when mom one day showed me a new picture she framed. It was a picture of a baby sleeping. She told me that the precious baby was none other than me. I felt like crying when I saw it. It was like as now I felt complete. I could also see the picture that I was a happy child.
Sunday came and I was wearing a satin red velvet dress, tights and Mary-Jane's to Church. The priest was talking how families were a gift from God, and being in a family was the foundation of our happiness. He explained that families were different, but the common factor was the love families had, and the fact is where each member belonged. I smiled and thought people in my life would come and go, but I will always have a family.
Little did I know!
As we walked out of Church, 4 policemen took my mom and dad away and told them they were under arrest for kidnapping. I started crying and screaming as they were put in handcuffs. This was not supposed to happen at all. My mom and dad were the nicest people on Earth. I ran up to the police that had my parents and started punching the police, demanding that they let my parents go. I did not even notice the media taking pictures and filming the whole event.
A policewoman pulled me away and put me in another police car. I could not stop crying.
As we came to the police station, there were like a thousand journalists outside. The police made a ring around me as we tried to get from the car to the police station. I could hear a thousand questions. Some were asking was I abused. Others what did I remember and did I hate the people that kidnapped me? The policewoman told me not to answer them. I wanted to shout that I was not kidnapped. The man and woman they just arrested were the best parents in the world. Where were they? Where was Mike?
The next day, I was questioned by the police. They filmed me because it would be used at court. This was good as I told them that I was not kidnapped. They were my parents all my life. They could even see a picture of me as a baby. I was never abused and they treated Mike and me in the best way. I told them that mom and I had a ritual every night, where she would brush my hair and talk and at the end say goodnight prayers.
Then I was told the truth. The picture of the baby in the frame was not me. They showed me the same picture. It was a frame that mom bought in the shop. They told me I was born a boy and the baby boy on the milk carton was me. I was kidnapped and to hide me from my true identity, they started treating me as a girl. This did not happen to Mike. He was also kidnapped but was from a town far away. They told me the tablets I took were girl hormones and the injection from the doctor was a blocker that blocked all my boy hormones. The policewoman said my parents had a dark side. They stole me and made me believe I was a girl.
I was left alone for a while. I could not stop crying. The police showed me so much evidence. How could I be so stupid in believing I was a girl? I had a mini version of Mike’s body. My mind was like spaghetti as there were a million thoughts. I was kidnapped and yet could not remember my real parents. I was really a boy dressed up as a doll. I should be mad at the people that kidnapped me. I need my mom to give me a hug. Then I remembered that she was not my mom. Maybe I should call her Bette.
A policewoman came and said they found a porcelain doll on my bed when they searched the house. She said maybe the doll could comfort me. It was my favourite doll called Mille. I held the doll close. Maybe I should have put Mille down, as boys did not have dolls! I didn’t care. Mille was always part of my life and the only thing I had left.
A few hours, the policewoman came to get me. She led me to a room where a strange woman and man were standing with a girl about the age of Mike. The woman was hysteric in tears while the girl whispered that I really looked like a girl. The policewoman told me that this was my real family. The lady ran to me and nearly hugged the air out of me. She was crying and saying that at last I was found. She hugged and kept hugging me as she did not want this to be a dream. The girl said her name was Jade and asked me did I remember them? I whispered no. I felt strange in this room. I was being told that these strangers were now my real family. The lady was saying that she loved me, but how could I say the same? They were total strangers and my mom was in some cage now.
I cried and the man told me not to worry as I was safe now. I did not feel safe. I cried more.
When they took me home, they showed me my bedroom. It looked like Mikes old room, with Spiderman sheets. Mom showed me where my new clothes were. She bought new clothes every year since I was kidnapped, just in case I would come home. She left me alone to get out of the dress. I put some jeans on and a t-shirt. The underwear was boys. I was now dressed as a boy. I looked in the mirror and a boy with pigtails was looking back at me. The lady came back and said I looked much more like her son. She untied my pigtails and let my hair fall down. It went down to my shoulders. She said I could not get it cut, as the media were camped outside. I would just have to look like a skater boy until then.
“I do not want my hair cut,” I said as I picked up Mille and gave her a hug. So be it…. I would be a skater boy. She had one surprise for me and that was a cell phone. She smiled and said all boys had one.
Boy… boys… boy… it was hard being called a boy. I asked her if I could be alone. When she went, I looked at the boy in the mirror. It was not me. It was some strange boy looking back.
The media were having a field trip. They were camped outside the house waiting for a comment or glimpse of me. I hid in my room all the time as I did not want to talk with any journalist. I seen on TV and newspapers what they reported. I was kidnapped when I was a toddler and lived on the other side of town as a girl. I could have escaped and come home anytime. However, I did not remember my family. They managed to get a comment from Mike. He said we were not abused and he never knew I was a boy. He believed I was a girl. So in the media, I was shown as a sissy. I did not consider myself a sissy. I was raised as a girl. My new dad told the media that I would not give a comment and he begged them to leave us alone. It took them a few weeks to go.
I missed my old family. I should have been mad at them for kidnapping me. I should have hated them for treating me like a girl. This was not the case. I could only remember the good things that they did. I could only remember the good times we had together. I sent Mike a text message on my cell phone, but he wrote back that he did not want to speak with me and to leave him alone.
My new family was so nice towards me. They were careful not to talk about my old family. I helped mom cook and she told me how her life fell apart when I was kidnapped. People told her I was dead, but she knew better. She never knew that I lived so close to them. She kept hugging me and asking what I could remember. It was hard saying that I did not remember her or anything. Even my sister was nice. She tried joking that we could now change chores and she would help me with homework.
Dad told me that I was a girl for so many years, and it would be best if I started playing football, so I start becoming more of a man. I told him I did not want to play football. I hated it. He tried to convince me that I had to put an effort into my new life. I looked at him in the eyes and shouted that I did not choose this. This upset dad and said that he had to go to work. After that, it was like every time he saw me that he had to go to work. This made me feel that despite they were nice and my real family, they did not know me or love me.
I started a new school and this was hell. When they found out I was the kidnapped child, they called me a sissy. They teased saying they bet my old dad molested me. They called me gay. They wanted to know why I did not just escape and go home. You can see that they had lots of comments. They laughed when I was silent when they asked if I was a boy or girl. I hated school and told mom that I did not want to go to school. Mom gave me one of her hugs and said that it will be OK. She was wrong. Every day I was teased and bullied. When I came home I cried only to be told that things would get better.
They did not! I was not happy. Mom tried to be nice to me, but she was not my old mom. She didn’t brush my hair at night-time and didn’t say prayers with me. Dad disappeared every time and I was jealous of my sister that had all the pretty dresses. I was living with strangers! It did not help that I read that my old mom and dad was sent to prison. My old dad was sent to a prison far away while mom was at the prison just outside town. It hurt that she was so close to me. It hurt that Mike did not even want to speak with me.
I did have one bright time of the day. When I explored the house, I found Jade's old clothes in the attic. So I would sneak up there and try on her dresses. I would sit with my doll and smile as I remembered my old life. These moments were bliss, as I felt like the person I was. I did not have to try and remember people or try to be a good son. I would look out the attic window and hope my old mom was looking out of her prison window.
All good things come to an end. One day Mom found me in the attic and she was shocked to see me in a dress. She got mad and told me to go to my bedroom.
Later, she opened my door and said things had to change! She wanted her son back.
The next day mom dragged me down to the hairdresser. I told her I did not want my hair cut. Mom said she did not want me in dresses. She was mad and I was mad. She tried explaining to me it was hard when I came back. Her heart is broken that she is a stranger to me. She only wanted her son back and she hoped this haircut would help me leave my days as a girl and start big her boy. I starred at the mirror and watched one hair lock fall after another. That boy in the mirror was staring at me from the mirror. I was crying as I see my hair disappeared. The hairdresser tried to cheer me up, saying my hair would be made to a wig and given to a child with cancer.
When we came home, mom tried telling me I looked cool. She said short hair suited me and all the girls would want to date me. I shouted, “I hate you. I had a happy life and now I live in this hell! You are not my Mom, I hate you!”
I ran to my bedroom and held my doll and cried on my bed. I could hear mom asking me to calm down and I could come down and apologise to her. No way was I going to do that. I did hate her. She was changing me to someone I did not want. I did not want to be here. I did not want to go to school here. I did mean it when I said that I wanted my old life back.
I packed a backpack with some clothes and put my doll in it. I crawled out the window and cycled. I cycled all across town to the prison. I was shaking as I went in and told the officer I wanted to see my old mom. The prison officer said I was not on the list, but let me in when she could see that I was nearly in tears. She led me to a visitor’s room and I waited for my old mom came in. She looked fine and had a smile on her face when she saw me.
“Did you bring a file so I could break out?” she asked. For the first time in weeks, I laughed. Then she got serious. “You look so different. It is hard seeing you as a boy. Are you happy?”
“I want to know why!” I said as I looked into her eyes
“I was afraid that this day would do. I always wanted a child. I could not have any and it was impossible to adopt. We kidnapped Mike and things went fine for a while. Then I felt empty and we kidnapped you. You were at the zoo, and your mom left you alone when she took your sister the toilet. When you became mine, we did not want people to recognise you, so we treated you as a girl. In time we made you believe you had a big clitoris. The doctor I knew was an old lover from my college days. He is also in prison now.”
“I do not know who I am! I do not know where I belong!” I cried
“You will always be my daughter.”
It was time to go. I did not want to go home, so I cycled to my old house. I slept in Mike’s old tree house. Visiting my old mom did not help me. Despite the fact that I loved her and my old dad, they stole me. If I was not kidnapped, I would have been a happy boy with my real parents and not be confused as to if I was a boy or girl. I would not be teased at school. I would not feel like such a freak and alone.
I fell asleep.
I was woken up by the police. They found me. So I was taken home to my real parents. When Dad saw me, he said that he had to work. My sister gave me a bad look and mom said nothing. I went to my bedroom.
My sister barged in and shouted at me, “It is your entire fault. You are causing mom and dad to be apart. I know you were kidnapped and treated like a girl. But since you came back, you have just been thinking about yourself and feeling sorry for yourself. You do not know how sad mom was when you were gone. I often heard her stand in this room and cry. We all love you and want you to be happy, but you do not care!”
She slammed the door and went.
I went downstairs and seen mom lying on the sofa. She was crying while she held my doll.
That night, at dinner, Dad suddenly came in. We were all sitting in quietness until he apologised for hiding at work, “This has been hard for us all. We have to realise that our son was kidnapped and now we are strangers to him. He is very confused and once again his life had a dramatic change. We must realize that you have two families. The family that kidnapped you but loved and cherished you and us, the biological family that never had a chance to love and adore you. We also know you have the identity of a girl while being a boy. So we need to remember all this and take it day by day”
The others had tears in their eyes and I actually smiled. I looked at mom and said I was sorry and I promised that I would try.
The next day of school did not go any better. 3 boys cornered me outside the school gates after school. They were asking if I fancied a boy and did I wear panties. They pulled down my pants, so they could see my undies. I was in tears, but this was not good enough. One raised his fist and said that they should beat me up. He was about to hit me when I heard a voice say, “If you touch him, you will all end up in the hospital!”
It was Mike. He told me I would always be his little sister, but it took him some time to see this. Since he went back to his family, he was mad at everyone and I just reminded him of the fact that he was kidnapped. Since then he learned that we were victims and we just had to be brave and move on. It was wrong that we were kidnapped, but it meant we would always have a bond!
I did meet a friend at school. Her name was Sarah. She did not tell me who I should be. She just liked being around me. She even taught me how to use makeup. She would one day be my wife… but that is another story.
At home, I wore both girl clothes and boy clothes. Mom said it was important to wear what made me happy. I had to figure out who I was myself. So overall my new life was getting better. I was smiling more and even looking better.
One day I found a book on my bed. It was my baby book. It showed pictures of me as a baby. There were stories about the first teeth, the first time I said a word and the first time I walked. There was even a lock of my hair and a print of my hand and foot. This was so special! I ran down to Mom and gave her a hug and thanked her. I then sat next to her as we cuddled on the sofa. I felt so loved and so safe.
She told me that I should wear my new summer dress the next day, as we had a visiting time at the prison to visit my old mom.
I looked at her and asked could she brush my hair. That was something that only my mom could do.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.