This is part 2, if you haven't noticed. This is the part of the story I like, got the intro out of the way. This deals more with the issue at hand, and has more dialogue, I hope you enjoy.

  

How Life Can Change

by Little Katie

Part 2: Going Through the Stages

  

The last three days had not been pleasant ones for the Corsi family. Their child lay terribly injured in a hospital bed, and totally unaware of what had transpired. The games of summer were being missed, replaced by an endless sleep. John Corsi Jr. no longer existed really, replaced by a sleeping shell, a shell now female.

The continuing coma the wounded child had fallen into agonized the family, the feeling of helplessness invaded every particle of their being and sapped their will and energy. John Sr. skipped going to work, not because of a problem with his job, he honestly wished he were at work, at least he could be doing something, anything but waiting around. But he wanted to be there when his child woke up, he wanted to give her a hug and a kiss.

John still had problems referring to his child as her, mentally. It seemed so strange. Je corrected people if they made the error, but inside it still felt—off. Things were definitely going to change, he could only hope not for the worst. He didn't really care that his son of nine years had been snatched away and replaced with a girl; at least his child still lived.

But just for now there were no signs of life, only a sleep that never seemed to end. John and his wife talked to their child, they sang songs, told jokes, anything to snap him, her, out of the deathlike stillness.

Yesterday, Mrs. Corsi had to be physically removed from the room by the nurses. While her husband went to pick up some lunch, she shook the child, crying, yelling, "Wake up, honey, time to get up, wake up, baby, please wake up now. We need you to wake up." She ontinued sobbing as the nurses led her away.

An orderly took her downstairs to the counselor. She didn't think she really needed a counselor, but it felt good to have the peace to compose herself. John Sr. heard about it when he got back and met his wife downstairs in the lobby. They embraced and with her head on her husband's shoulder, Mrs. Corsi wept.

They went back to the room after an hour or so. They knelt down by the bed.

Now John Sr. tried to snap his child out of the comma, trying different ploys. "If you wake up," he promised trying to sound light and cheerful, "I'll get you anything you want, everything you want if you open your eyes."

When that didn't work he tried something else, "If you don't get up right now," he said in a sterner voice, "you won't be allowed out of the house till next year." Nothing happened.

Finally, he pleaded, "Please come back to us, we love you, we need you to wake up."

Still nothing happened; exhausted, he lay his head on his child's torso and went to sleep. Sleep seemed an odd thing these days or two entirely different things; for the adults it represented a needed escape, but for the child it remained a prison. Who knew what dreams came to the child, if any, but the dreaming had gone on too long.

Now the whole family slept, the darkness had taken them all into itself.

It finally happened about three a.m. that night, or early morning. In the silent hospital, where not even the sound of hard soles on linoleum could be heard, the child woke up with a gasp.

She found herself, in a foreign place, unsure of what had passed. And she hurt, she hurt all over. In terror, she screamed, a loud scream that pierced through the halls like the needles that went through skin in this place. The noise woke her parents, and at first frightened them, but then brought them a great joy as they realized its source.

Her mother leaped up to her feet and embraced the child in the bed. "Don't worry, baby, mommy's here, it will be o.k. we missed you, oh God, did we miss you, honey."

The child stopped screaming recognizing her mother's voice, but she couldn't respond, words escaped her efforts to use them. She felt and knew the hugs came from both her parents, knew them well and felt comforted even though still frightened and distressed.

Her eyes hurt, they couldn't focus, and a constant feeling of dizziness and pain kept her from concentrating on anything else.

"Mom, I can't see anything, it's all blurry," she complained when she finally found the words.

"They've been closed for a long time, baby. They need to get used to being open again."

"I hurt, mommy, I hurt all over."

"We know, baby, we know."

Her mother explained in the simplest terms about the accident and about the hospital. She explained about the head injury and about the coma. She explained everything, except for the fact that the child was no longer a boy. She couldn't find the words, she didn't know how to phrase it to take an edge off the raw fact. She wanted to and she might have found a way to say it, but before long the medical staff filled the room, running test, checking reflexes. They took a good 40 minutes. With the testing done, she hugged her child once more.

"Mommy, I'm tired."

Fighting the urge not to lose her child to sleep again, she said all she could for the moment. "The rest baby, we will be here when you wake up. Rest well."

The child fell asleep, a different kind of sleep, this time. They knew their child felt uncomfortable, repeatedly stirring to find a position that did not cause more pain. Her parents held each other close, and each rested one hand on the child. Happiness and hope filled them.

"Did you tell her?" John Sr. asked quietly when certain that Emily would not hear.

"I didn't have time. I didn't know what to say."

"Will we ever?"

"How do we do it? I don't know if she is going to like this any?"

"The sooner the better though. Perhaps I should do it."

"Maybe, let's see if an opening presents itself. It's better she hears it from us then from the doctors, or finds out on her own."

"I'm sure something tomorrow will come up."

They went to the nursing station and asked if the hospital had a place where they could sleep. The last couple of nights in chairs had been unbearable. Now that their child had escaped her sleepy jail, perhaps they could rest somewhere more comfortable. The nurse allowed them to stay in one of the empty rooms for the night, telling them that this was a one night stand and actually firmly against the rules. Tomorrow other arrangements would be required. They thanked her and slept well, ennervated by relief and exhaustion.

The next morning they went back to the now familiar room where their child was once again conscious. The hospital gown had been finally wrinkled and the covers were turned down by her belly. She lay quietly but her eyes followed them as they entered.

"Hey baby, good to see you awake," her dad said.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be sorry you did nothing wrong."

"You want me up, and I couldn't get up."

"We know you did your best, baby, your brain needed to get better" Her mom reassured her, patting the bedclothes, careful to choose a spot where she knew the child had not been injured.

"I need to tell dad something, secret."

Her father came near the bed and bent his ear down to her. "What's up sport?"

"I didn't want mom to hear, but my willy hurts."

"Um, we need to have a talk about that actually."

"Why? What's wrong."

John Sr. decided to be honest, if blunt. "It's gone, it couldn't be fixed." He had to say it a second time.

"What do you mean gone?" she shouted suddenly as comprehension and horror filled her eyes with tears.

"The accident—took it away, and we had to make a decision about it." John felt his rationality of purpose failing.

"What decision?" the child trembled.

"We had to make you a girl." her father whispered now, so low it was inaudible.

"What?" the child asked straining to hear.

"We made you into a girl." Her father replied in a louder tone.

"You did what! How could you!" The child's voice got louder again.

"We didn't have a choice, we had to do what was best for you."

"And you did that!" the child screamed this time.

"We had to."

"How could you! I hate you, I hate you, go away, get away from me. You ruined my life!" Weakly, she flailed small arms at her father's head.

John Sr. wanted to interrupt, wanted to explain, wanted to try to calm the angry child but his wife tapped him on the shoulder. "Let's leave her to herself for now, o.k., don't take it harder, it's hard news, she doesn't know what she is saying, she doesn't mean it, and no matter what you say she won't hear it."

John stepped back and let his wife lean over the child. "Baby," her mom told her in a soft voice, "we know you are upset, we are, too. we are going to go, so you can be sad or mad if you need to. I see you're sad, if you need to cry, let it out, baby, it will be good for you."

"Boys don't cry," the child screamed at her mother with tears in her eyes.

"O.k. baby." Mrs. Corsi kept her voice even and calm. "We will be back in a few hours. We have to make phone calls and let everyone know that you woke up. Everyone has been so worried about you. We still love you, we will always love you."

The child on the bed said nothing, her face pinched with emotion, she simply glared as her parents walked out of the room.

They knew that there wasn't anything left to say at the time, it was something that she would have to deal with on her own. They went to their car and drove home, started making phone calls. The first calls were to the family, telling them only that their child awoke from the coma. Only the closest members of the family knew of the gender change. Talk must be spreading, but the Corsis just figured it would spread on its own and that they would deal with the rest of the family and friends about it at a better time, if ever such a time existed. They then made calls for others to make calls to spread the word that the coma had been broken.

Meantime, Emily, formerly John, though she still did not know her new name, sat in an empty hospital room. She pulled the pillow over her head and sobbed. She rode the roller coaster of her emotions, up and down.

"How can they do this to me, what did I ever do to deserve this. I'm sore all over, I can't move without hurting, my head hurts and they made me a girl, this can't get any badder. This can't be happening, it must be some kind of bad dream. They're just lying, they got to be. They just said it to be mean to me, or maybe to make me not think of the pain. Yeah, that's it, they just wanted me to think of something other then my head. It's like when they say Brussels sprouts are strong pills. That's it, just a joke. Yeah."

The child smiled, assuming it was all just a bad joke. She pulled down the covers and tried to look at the region in question. All that could be seen were bandages, so she could neither confirm nor deny her suspicion. She lay back and tried to watch some cartoons, thinking that would cheer her up. She felt relieved and happy that she had convinced herself that she was somehow still a boy. After a half hour a nurse came by.

"How you doing, Hon?" the nurse asked showing slight concern.

"I'm sore all over and my head and bottom hurts."

"I understand, do you know how to adjust the bed to get more comfy?"

"No, how?"

The nurse showed the child how to operate the bed to make it go up and down. She also showed the child how to use the call button. "Now remember this is to be used only if you are hurting more then usual o.k. dear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Such a polite little thing aren't you? O.K. lets change the bandage down there."

The child blushed a little, but was curious as to what would be seen. She still thought that her parents had lied about the gender change.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. We've all seen it before around here." The nurse had the child lift the gown a little. She gently removed the bandage, the child look down eagerly, hoping her penis was still around somewhere. The nurse pulled away the gauze, but Emily looked down and didn't see anything familiar. It was red there and she could see stitches. But her penis could not be seen. She looked down a little further, as far down as she could, bending in the middle hurt but she wanted to see. Nothing appeared that was familiar. Tears welled up in her eyes as the nurse cleaned the area.

"I'm sorry it hurts dear, I'm almost done."

"Ahuh, it's okay," Emily replied automatically. She wanted to disbelieve what she had been told and she tried not to think of what hurt where.

The nurse finished cleaning the area, and gently taped the bandages back up, using fresh gauze and the utmost care to not cause any more discomfort than she must. "Is that better, dear?"

Emily didn't respond at first, she just looked down at the area, even though it was covered now, and the hospital gown had been pulled back down over the bandage. "Where is it?" she asked when the nurse turned to move away.

The nurse knew exactly what the child meant. The whole staff at this point knew. "Didn't your parents tell you, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, but I thought maybe they was fibbing."

"Well, they weren't."

"I guess not." Emily choked on a sob.

"Oh, I know baby, cry let it out."

"But, but, boys aren't suppose to cry"

"We know that's not true, boys cry all the time, and honey, you aren't a boy any more, well, not on the outside"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, inside you are still you, and you've got to decide what you are, ultimately it's all up to you. But, it's good to be what makes you happy, and your folks will help you out. They seem like such nice people."

"So, on the inside I can be a boy, and can do boy stuff?" Emily asked.

"Well, I think you will figure it all out, give it time, dear, I have other rooms to visit, but if you ever want to talk, I am more then happy to spend a few minutes with you after work or on a break."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Such a polite child," The nurse said as she left the room.

Emily tried to watch more cartoons, or anything to not think about the one thing that filled her every thought. "What am I?" the age old question asked by philosopher and fools alike. Now being asked by a child, who though in a building full of people, felt very much alone. She tried to read some of the cards that people had left and looked at a few drawings. Some were very funny, but any laughter was brief and unfulfilling and left no joy.

Lying there, alone with her thoughts and her pain, she became angry again and tried to talk her anger out. "Try to make me a girl, I'll get them," she said to herself, not knowing what she might mean by such a promise.

"I'm not going to live as a girl, if they think that they are nuts. I'm gonna live my own life, who cares what I have down there." The thought served as fresh fuel for her anger.

"I hate them for doing this to me, I hate them all. I'm not doing anything like a girl, I'm not going to cry or wear dresses or play with dolls." She didn't swear, she didn't know any words vile enough for how she felt. "I'm not gonna do any of that stuff. I bet they even painted my room pink, when I get home I'll paint it back. No, I'll paint it black, that'll teach them." Her eyes burned. "They want to do this to me, I'll tear apart any girl stuff they get me. I don't care if it's even slightly girly, I'll burn it up." The anger in the little child did not go away as she spat out her thoughts.

She reached down and pushed on her bandages, causing searing pain. "I don't want you, girl part!" she cried. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she fought them off while causing more pain to herself.

"See all you do is hurt, I hate you." The child struck the bandages, but the pain from that almost made her pass out. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming and pulled herself into the fetal position. She wanted to call for the nurse but couldn't find the button. Her eyes were red now from the pain as well as her anger. She couldn't take anymore, she sobbed almost unable to breathe because from the pain and emotion.

Someone found her like that, perhaps an orderly, she heard calls for the nurse, and became aware of people around her but couldn't see or think about anything but the pain. The doctor ordered a drip. She didn't know what that was, but hoped it would help. After a while the pain did subside.

"What happened, honey, what did you do to hurt yourself, or did it start on its own?" the doctor asked.

"I was trying to move my arm and couldn't hold it up and it fell on it," the child lied, trying to avoid getting into trouble.

"Oh, I see, well let's try to not lift our arms over anything important shall we." The doctor grinned and tugged gently on the child's hair.

"Yes, sir." Emily grinned a little, thankful that the pain had stopped and that she didn't get reprimanded for hitting herself. She was unlikely to be in trouble at all, but at her age she couldn't know that for sure.

When they left her alone again, she slept some more and while she slept her parents returned. They placed more gifts and get well mementos around the room. They were eager to get their child back home, but that was still at least a few days away. They also carried with them a bag that contained a pink nightgown and what had been John Jr.s' favorite stuffed animal. They hoped Emily would love it just as much.

Most kids had little teddy bears or something, this, however, was a stuffed pig. It was what she had snuggled with on cold winter nights or when a storm raged outside her windows. They thought that maybe she would associate the nightgown with the familiar comforting pig if they presented them together. They had debated whether they might be rushing it, but both thought the sooner she accepted her situation, the quicker she could learn the things she needed to know.

But for now she slept and her parents sat guard. Sometimes one of them pushed a stray hair away from the sleeping child's face, or picked a bit of lint or paper off the bedclothes.

"Luckily we didn't go for that hair cut last week." Mom said.

"Yes, at least, the hair got a head start."

"You think she's still mad?"

"Maybe, I hope not. It's a hard thing." Dad shook his head.

"I know, can't blame her, though, but I hate her being mad at us"

"It will be O.K, she'll adjust."

"I hope."

About that time the child started to stir. Slowly she opened her eyes.

 

"Hi mommy, hi daddy." she said softly when she saw them.

"Hi baby," they responded, happy that the last outburst hadn't lingered.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," said Emily.

"It's ok, we understand, it's not easy. We brought you something," her mom said.

"Really, what?"

Dad pulled out the stuffed animal and presented it to her.

"Pinky," she squealed with joy, taking it and hugging it. "Thanks."

"We got something else for you, something new."

"Oh, good, what?"

Mom pulled out the nighty, it wasn't too extravagant, just a simple cotton nighty with the word "princess" across the chest written in dark purple. The length would come down to the knee when worn.

"What's that" the child exclaimed.

"It's a nighty." Mom explained.

"I know what it is, but—why?"

"Well, we thought, maybe, you might want to wear something pretty."

"Give it to me."

Her mom handed her the nighty. Emily tried to throw it out the window. It didn't even come close and the child winced in pain. Her mom tried to console her. "It's okay, honey," she said, reaching out her arms.

"Get away from me," Emily screamed, flailing again.

"Sorry, baby." Mom said, a little unsure of what to do now.

"Don't call me that, don't call me anything."

"Honey, we are sorry this happened, but sooner or later we will all have to deal with it." Her dad tried to calm her with reasonablness.

"I don't want to deal with it." She turned her face away from them.

"It'll take time."

"No, it won't, I'll never be a girl, never. Go away from me, leave me alone."

"We will honey, for now, you can call if you need us. We'll give you time. We love you, baby," Mom told her gently.

"Yeah, right." Emily said as sarcastically as a nine-year-old could manage.

"It's the truth, and you know that, it's always been the truth. Maybe tomorrow we'll bring a friend."

"O.K." She relented in her anger a little. It hurt to be mad at her parents. "I love you, too, I guess. I just want to be alone for now o.k.?" She didn't turn back to look at them.

"We'll see you in the morning, then, get some rest," her father said.

She nodded into the pillows, the back of her bandaged head still toward them.

Her parents left, she watched their shadows disappear from the wall. She snuggled up with her stuffed animal, holding it as tightly as she could without causing herself any pain.

"Why did this have to happen to me? Huh? God? Why? I'm sorry if I was bad, I won't be bad anymore if you turn me back. Please? I'll do the dishes, I'll clean my room, I'll give all my toys away. Anything, but please turn me back." The child sobbed onto the stuffed pig, thinking what else she could offer to be spared from a life as a girl.

She promised anything she could think of, large or small, she even asked God to take her to heaven now, if she could be a boy again. But, in her heart she knew it wasn't going to happen. This was the way she would be forever, and she hated it. Exhausting anything she could think to promise to God, she drifted off to sleep once more. She turned her head, seeing the nighty, and fell asleep.

The next morning, Emily woke but did not open her eyes yet. She had the strange sensation that someone was watching her. She assumed that it was just her parents, back again. But, she heard a voice that was not that of her parents. It was soft and high pitched. It was a voice that was familiar and warm. It brought a smile to her, at least internally.

She kept her eyes closed for yet a little while longer, not sure she wanted to face people. But, she finally gave in and slowly blinked her eyes open. Right there at the side of the bed she saw somehthing that had always brought happiness. A sweet, cute, long blonde-haired, blue-eyed, button-nosed little girl stared at her and smiled.

"Hi Jessie," Emily said softly, her throat felt dry, and she was unsure really what to say.

"Hi, Emily" said Jessie with a bounce of fun in her voice.

"Who?"

"You, Emily, Hi."

"I'm not Emily, I'm John, you know that."

"Oh, your parents said," she paused mid-sentence as John Sr. whispered into her ear.

"Do I need to know something?" Emily asked her dad.

"Um, well yes, you can't go through life as a girl with the name John, so we had it changed." John Sr. informed her a little afraid of another outburst.

"But, I'm not a," he began but knowing the truth, he didn't bother saying anything more.

"It's something to get adjusted to." He dad acknowledged.

"Can it just be me and Jessie for now?"

"That will be fine." Her mom said and the parents left the room.

"How many people know about Emily?" she asked her little friend when they were alone.

"Just adults and me, I overheard them when they told my parents, they aren't letting kids know, but I know, but I didn't tell anyone, promise, all my heart swear." Jessie answered, hardly taking a breath.

"It stinks."

"Why?" Jessie said as she hopped up onto the bed.

"Cause of things that you don't know."

"Tell me, please."

"You'll laugh."

"No, I won't, I promise, I won't laugh at nothing."

"I guess it don't matter any more anyway."

"Aw, you teaser. Hey, what's that?" Jessie asked while pointing to the nighty that still lay balled up on the floor.

"My parents wanted me to wear it, they want me to be a girl now."

"I don't think they want you to be, like they planned it or nothing. I think it just happened, and I think it's gonna be fun, much funner then being a smelly boy." she laughed. "You should wear the nighty, maybe you'll find out they are comfy, I don't know how boys can wear pants all the time, I mean once in a while is nice, but always boys just wear pants pants pants, even to bed they wear pants." She laughed more and folded the nighty as neatly as she could.

"But, I can't do something I wanted."

"Like what, you tell me now."

"O.k. You didn't know this but I really like you."

"I like you, too, we're friends, we play all the time."

"No, no, not just like that. Like I had feelings for you, like moms and dads have feelings for each other."

"Really, wow, I kind of do for you too. Me and my mom talked about you lots. It's natural she says. You are so cool, why didn't you tell me, we could of dated." She laughed some more and blushed slightly.

"Well, that's over now, I can't be like that with you."

Jessie pouted, "Why?"

"Cause I'm a girl now, and girls can't date and stuff."

"Who says, girls can so date each other, it happens all of the time, my mom does it." Jessie then did something Emily didn't expect. She leaned over and puckered her lips and she planted a kiss right on Emily's lips. It wasn't a mouth watering, liquid swapping, tongue sucking kiss. It was a soft and gentle kiss, it was pure and innocent, but it sent feelings through Emily that she never felt before. It sent those same feelings through Jessie as well. Emily blushed, she turned red, but she put her right arm around Jessie and the two cuddled up on the bed.

"What am I going to do?" Emily asked.

"About what?"

"About me, about you, about being a girl now."

"Well, me and you can be Jessie and Emily, just like we was and how we wanted, except you got a different name, we can play the same stuff still. I can help you being a girl too, and it's a lot of fun. You'll love it, honest. And you know what?"

"No, what?"

"I still like you just the same. Even those feelings I told Mom."

"For real?"

"Yes, honest to goodness." Jessie said and then kissed Emily on the cheek. They both giggled.

"I guess I'm stuck this way, I don't know if I'll like it. Maybe I can just live as a boy with the wrong parts."

"Whatever you pick, I still like you, O.K." Jessie said and then gave Emily a gentle squeeze, even though she was only seven she understood that she did not want to make her friend hurt more.

They lay in the bed together, watching cartoons and enjoying each other's company, much as they had done before the accident. After an hour passed it was time for Jessie to go home. Though Emily was sorry to see her go, she was glad her friend had come for a visit.

"Jessie's mom is downstairs waiting to take her home. Perhaps, now we can spend some time talking about things, calmly." Emily's mom said.

"Okay, I'll try," Emily smiled. Jessie's visit and good humor had had a marked effect on her outlook.

"Good, and so will we try," her father said.

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well, we know that you don't really want to be a girl, and if we could take back the accident and not allow all this to happen, we would, you know we would. But we can't do that."

"I know, I'm not mad at you, just at stuff, I don't mean to take it out on you, honest, I love you."

"Oh, we love you too, honey," her dad said.

"And we want you to be happy," her mother continued.

"So, do I have to be a girl?"

"Well, outwardly yes, but we would like you to give being a girl a real try, maybe we can come to an arrangement."

"What kind of an arrangement?"

"Give it a year, try your hardest to be like a girl and if after a year you don't want to—well, after a year we'll figure out something else."

"A whole year?"

"Just one little year, it won't be that long."

"Can I still play baseball?"

"Sure, girls play baseball, this year is over, though because you're hurt, well every where but next year you can sign up just like this year."

"What do I have to do as a girl then?"

"Just dress and get used to the idea, Jessie said she would help, and so will I," Mom told her.

"So I guess it's Emily now, huh?"

"Yes, that was the name we picked out while you were in here." Mom said as she patted her stomach. In all the distress and upset, everyone had almost forgot about the new baby. Emily would have a little brother before the year she had agreed on was over.

She sighed. "I guess I can go the year, can you help me with that thing," Emily said as she pointed to the nighty.

Her mom gently removed the hospital gown, and slowly lowered the nighty down onto her new daughter, being careful not to pull too hard or cause any unnecessary discomfort. She also put a small ribbon in her daughter's hair, it was a small butterfly, but it took some attention away from the bandages on the head.

Emily looked down and read the shirt, upside down. "Princess, huh, is that me now?"

Her parents laughed, "If you want."

"Sure, why not? I got to get use to it I guess."

They all embraced gently and Emily got a kiss from each of her parents.

  

  

  

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