Crystal's StorySite
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Melissa's Diary

by Jennifer White

 

I was excited. I was going to spend the summer up north, with my aunt Claire and my uncle Jack Collins. When I was young, I used to go up there all the time for vacations in the summer. My cousin Melissa taught me how to ride a horse, and I became very good at it.

My aunt and uncle owned a horse farm and stables, where they bred horses, housed them for other people, and gave riding lessons. Melissa was well known in the area as the best teacher, and I was lucky to have her teach me all my skills. I was just a young boy from the city, but I could ride with the best of them.

Melissa was older now, and I hadn't heard from her in years. You know how it is when you are close to a cousin, but when you grow up, you sometimes go out of touch. I hoped I could find out what she was doing, I really missed her. She was older than me, and I had really looked up to her. She was so popular, so good at everything. I was kind of a loner, and I admired how she could do things like walk into a room, and suddenly be like everyone's best friend. She was always going out with friends and on dates, while I was lonely.

So I thought that heading up there for the summer would be great. Perhaps in a new environment, I could learn from her, and start to make more friends myself.

 

* * *

 

I made the long drive on the interstate, then on the two lane state highway that seemed to go on forever, only interrupted by the small towns with their red lights and 25 mile per hour zones. But eventually, those became less frequent as I came to the northernmost reaches of the state.

The roads started to look familiar, and I was happy to know that not much had changed up here in the ten years it had been since I last visited. The town looked the same as it had back then. It was too small for Walmart or one of those places to have been built, upsetting the balance of the town. That meant that the small drugstore where Melissa and I had bought chocolate malts was still there, the old hardware store with the worn hardwood floors, the feed mill, the gas station which still had full service, and even the small flower shop with the 'Gone Fishing' sign were still there.

I went to the end of the street, to the flashing yellow light, took a left, and soon I was on the dirt road that led out to the farm. The trees along the fence line were taller than when I was last there, but otherwise, it looked exactly the same. I pulled up, and honked the horn.

Aunt Claire and Uncle Jack were waiting for me on the front porch, and we hugged and exchanged greetings. As usual, Aunt Claire had a nice meal ready for me, and we talked as we ate, catching up on everything going on in our lives.

"How's business?" I asked.

"Not so good" said Jack. "Since Melissa left, we're getting fewer and fewer people here to take riding lessons, and that means less horses in the stable, which means..."

"Which means that we're losing money this season" said Claire sadly. "That's why we wanted you to come up here. This could be the last year that we stay open. We might have to sell it off, and retire to Florida. We had hoped to keep it in the family, but..."

"What about Melissa? Wasn't she going to take it over?"

They suddenly became quiet. This was the first time I had mentioned her.

"We haven't heard from her since she went to Brazil. We'd like for her to be here with us, but she seems to care more about her work down there than us up here. I hope she contacts us soon. We really need her."

"Come on Claire, she cares about us. Remember she told us that it would be hard to communicate to us back home from the Amazon jungle?"

"Yes dear, but hasn't she gone to a city where they have phones?"

"Brazil? What is she doing there?" I asked.

"She went with the peace corps. for an internship. You know how she loved people, and the environment. This would be a chance to help both, so she went off on this damn fool of a trip, against our advice. Now she's been down there for two years, and we haven't heard from her. But she'll come home. I just know it."

"How about Grandma?" I said, changing the subject. "How's he doing?"

"Not so well. She just went into the hospital with a bad ticker. I think she's been heartbroken since Melissa left. She was her pride and joy, and she misses her. Now her heart is giving out."

"We'll have to go visit her" I said.

"That's a good idea. We'll go after dinner."

 

* * *

 

We went to St. Johns hospital to visit Grandma Bessy. She wasn't doing very well. It was sad to see this proud woman lying helpless on the bed, with a breathing tube in her nose, and I.V. bag dripping into her arm, and a heart monitor beeping along. Nurses came and went, and we could tell that she wasn't doing very well. She was having a hard time seeing and hearing now. We all knew that she wasn't long for this world. We brought her a bouquet of flowers to liven up the room, with its ugly medicinal and antiseptic smells. They brought some relief, but she would have preferred to be out in the country, with the open air blowing through the windows. That was where she belonged, not in some hospital bed in a semiprivate room.

The doctor took us aside when we were ready to leave.

"I'm afraid it doesn't look good. I give her 2-3 weeks to live if something drastic doesn't happen soon. There is nothing we can do but to wait and hope for the best."

We drove home in silence. We all sensed it, and the doctor just confirmed the bad news to us.

 

* * *

 

Back at home, it took a while, but we finally relaxed, and sat around the fireplace telling stories of the old days. I had forgotten just how cold it got at night up there, even in June. I didn't remember to bring a sweater, so Aunt Claire dug one up for me.

"Didn't Melissa used to wear that one?" I asked as I put it on. It was oversized and baggy, but it was warm, having been knitted by Grandma Bessy herself.

"Yes she did."

"I think I'll wear it to the hospital tomorrow. Bessy should get a kick out of it."

"Good idea."

We told old stories, about me and Melissa when I was younger, and just learning to ride a horse. They had a million stories about their beloved daughter, and I was content to listen to them, because of all the good memories they invoked, of the innocent days of my childhood spent up here.

"You have her eyes" said Aunt Claire.

"And the family nose!" I added. We all had similar facial features.

When it was finally time for bed, they showed me to my room. The 'guest' bedroom was being renovated, so they had me staying in Melissa's old room. I used her dresser for my clothes, since she was away and had taken many of hers. I hung up my slacks in her closet on extra hangers. I pushed her clothes to the side so mine wouldn't get mixed up with them.

I went to bed, and slept well with the cool country air coming in through the window with I had left open, just a crack. I was happy and contented.

 

* * *

 

I was eager in the morning to get up and get going. I wanted to ride a horse! I hadn't done it in years!

To someone who has never rode a horse before, you don't know the feeling of exhilaration of the wind going through your hair as you glide effortlessly over the green countryside. If you are a good rider, and your horse gets to know you well, you start acting like a team, and you almost don't even have to tell the horse what to do. Just a small lean to the side, and it knows to turn. You start to anticipate each other, and act as one. That is when riding becomes something more than just a fun activity, it is spiritual and effortless and even an emotional experience. Even for a city boy like me.

I found that Jackie, the horse I had ridden in the past had to be put down a couple of years ago, so I found myself on a new mount, named Suzanna. It would take a few weeks for us to really gain trust in each other, so I started out with just a slow walk, after feeding her some carrots and sugar cubes. I would work with her more and more each day, until we became close, like I had been with Jackie.

I came back in at noon for lunch, then helped with the chores. It was easier than when I had been there last, because I was bigger, and there were less horses to care for. It is a lot of work to have a horse, to groom them, shoe them, feed them, clean up after them, give them exercises, give them water, make sure they're healthy, and all the other little details. But it is fun too!

After dinner, we'd sit around, play cards, and tell stories again. I could tell that although they hadn't heard from Melissa in a long time, they loved her very much, and she was the most dear thing to their hearts. It was as if they lived through her, and retelling stories about her made them happy. So I sat back and listened.

We went to the hospital again that night, and I remembered to wear the sweater.

When I walked into the room, Grandma's eyes lit up.

"Melissa, is that you?" she said, her face looking alive for the first time since I had seen her.

"No Grandma, it's me, Hank" I said. She tried not to look disappointed, but you could see it in her face, and the way her body sagged.

"I'm sorry, my eyes aren't what they used to be. I saw the sweater, and thought it was her, come back to me. Oh how I wish I could see her one more time. I know I don't have long anymore..."

Her voice trailed off sadly. It almost made me cry too.

 

* * *

 

That night I just couldn't sleep. I felt so upset about Grandma. I looked for something to read, but there weren't too many books on Melissa's shelves, other than children's books. But I did find one thing in the closet: she had kept a diary every year since she turned twelve years old. I was curious to find out what she might have had to say about me, and what might have made her think to go to the amazon. But I decided that it might be a good idea to start at the beginning, so I could really understand her. So I took the first one down from the shelf, and turned to the start.

There were blank pages all the way until June the 1st, her birthday. So she must have received this as a birthday present. The first few weeks were full of entries, then it became spotty from there. At first, there were only a few tentative words, or one line, so it was more of a log than a diary. But as time went on, she started to write more and more, until every day there was a full page. She started to talk about her innermost thoughts, her feelings, her desires, her hopes and aspirations.

She was a vivid writer, and I was mesmerized. I read until three in the morning, reaching almost the end of the book. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of her, and doing things together, like we did in the old days.

 

* * *

 

Whenever I had a spare moment, I took to reading from Melissa's diaries. I moved from her early years when she started to wrestle with the fact that her body was changing, and she was becoming a young woman. She had been a tomboy, hanging out with guys more than the girls. But as her body changed, everything else changed. She hated that she was growing breasts, because they 'got in the way'. But she also hated it that the boys stopped treating her just as one of them, but as a girl. Before, they were unafraid to tackle her playing football (but they were afraid of getting tackled by her!). But now, they treated her like some delicate thing, and it ruined the games for her. What fun was it if they *let* her win?

Even worse than that, was they way they looked at her. Instead of wanting to be with her as a friend and a peer, they wanted to be with her on dates now. She had no desire to have sex yet, but she could tell that the boys were changing, and that's where their minds were. When they were younger, they would talk about everything together. Now, she would show up, and everyone would suddenly become silent.

At her mother's urging, she started to sometimes wear skirts and dresses to fancy events, instead of her usual jeans. She felt like they were forcing her to become weak and frail. She felt so silly and out of place wearing a dress. She hated it that everyone said she was pretty. She sometimes wished that she had been born a boy.

 

* * *

 

Every night, the stories of her were told and retold. I had to be careful sometimes when I had read something in her diary that was different than how my uncle and aunt remembered it. I was about to correct them once, then I realized that if I told them, they'd know I was invading her privacy by reading her diaries.

And every night we'd go visit Grandma, who was not doing any better. We prayed, but we knew it was just a matter of time.

 

* * *

 

One day I talked with my uncle.

"Listen, you told me how business is bad, and you're losing money. I want to help.

I'd like to give riding lessons. Melissa taught me, and I could teach people in the same way. Perhaps we can make some more money for you"

He liked the idea, but over the next two weeks, there were only two people who signed up for a lesson with me, and only one of them actually showed up. I wasn't helping matters any.

 

* * *

 

I read in Melissa's diary how she loved it when I visited, because I didn't treat her like a girl. She had as much fun as I did in those days, and she taught me everything she knew about riding. I was proud to read that she thought I was every bit as good of a rider as her!

But now things were changing for her too. She was feeling lonely, and the friendships she had with the boys and her girlfriends weren't enough for her anymore. She had to admit to herself that she was feeling new desires, and that she was going to have to give in and get a real boyfriend. It saddened her to know this, but it was something out of her control. She needed love, as we all do, and she was feeling sexual urges for the first time too. She had entered a new phase of her life.

Now she gave in, and started to wear makeup. For big events, she even bought a wig with long flowing hair, so she could keep hers shorter as she liked it, but look more feminine for formal events. She started to wear more revealing outfits, and showed off her fully developed body parts. Every boy in town was after her now, and she was the most popular person wherever she went.

 

* * *

 

By the time I got through her last diary, I felt like I really knew her, as much as any one person can know another. She was in my dreams every night, and sometimes I dreamed that *I* was the one going through some of the situations that she faced in the diary. I wished I could see her too!

I was up to two lessons a week that I was giving, but things weren't looking up. My uncle was getting gloomy, and he said again that it looked like he was going to have to sell the place. This made us all feel terrible. And then it got even worse.

We got a call from the hospital. The doctor told us that Grandma had made a turn for the worse, and wouldn't last very long.

"She keeps calling for Melissa. If there is *any* way your daughter could come to see her, she could die in peace she says."

Aunt Claire cried. There was a tear in Uncle Jack's eyes. Mine were watering too.

"I have an idea" I said.

They both looked up to me.

"When I wore Melissa's sweater, Grandma thought it was her. What if I wore more of her clothes? And she had that wig. Is that still here?"

"Yes!" said Aunt Claire, lighting up. "We do have that downstairs. Jack, go get the wig. Hank, come with me. We'll get you dressed up in her clothes, put on the wig and some makeup, and Bessy will think its our dear Melissa. You will make the old woman so happy!"

I didn't know if I had done the right thing or now, but I wanted to let Grandma 'see' her one last time. So I went through the embarrassment of putting on a dress. Now I truly understood what Melissa had felt, as Aunt Claire made me pretty. She had me put on Melissa's panties and a bra, which she stuffed with two 'breast forms'. Aunt Claire had breast cancer, so she used forms to give her bust line the proper look. I felt silly wearing a bra with the two bumps protruding from my chest.

Next, I put on pantyhose, dark ones to hide the fact that my legs weren't shaved.

"Melissa didn't like shaving her legs either" said Aunt Claire.

Because of that, she picked out a long dark skirt, that only showed a bit above my ankles. I had never worn one, and felt so strange as I moved and it twirled around me. She picked out a blouse that covered the hair on my arms, and came almost to my wrists. She put rings on my fingers, and then put a necklace on me. She had me spread my fingers as she put a quick coat of nail polish on.

"Don't worry if its uneven, Melissa's was always messy because she did so much. If it looks perfect, it won't look like her".

Next, she did my makeup. She just put on some eyeliner and mascara, followed by lipstick, all in subtle shades because Melissa never used very much. She put only a splash of perfume, then got out the wig.

As I squeezed my foot into a pair of black flats, I looked into the full length mirror, and was stunned. I looked just like her! Between the family nose, and the fact that we had such similar eyes, with the hair, the girly clothes, and the wig, I could have passed for her. Not just with my Grandma's old failing eyes, but to anyone but her closest friend.

I felt stupid carrying a purse, but Aunt Claire said I had to. I had some trouble getting into the car in all this getup, and again I knew just how Melissa had felt as she had been almost forced to start dressing like this. I was going through the same thing she was, and that made me feel even closer to her.

As we drove, they coached me on things she would say, and how she would say them. But from reading so many of her own words, I knew it better than they did at that point. I just had to use a slightly higher than normal voice, perhaps a little more breathy, and I was all set.

 

* * *

 

It had been one thing to walk around the house dressed like a girl, but when we got to the hospital, I didn't know if I could go through with it in public.

"You look so much like her!" said Uncle Jack, with a proud grin on his face. "I can't believe it. No, you have to come in. Bessy will be so happy! Just hold her hand and smile."

I walked in with them, hoping nobody would find out. I was doing a great job, and nobody seemed to pay me any extra attention.

We made it to the room, and when Grandma saw me, you wouldn't believe the look on her face. She almost jumped out of the bed. I hugged her, hoping that my wig wouldn't come off, then sat beside her and held her hand.

I asked a few questions, and let Grandma do all the talking. She had so much to tell me!

"My dear, darling Melissa. I want to give you something. This ring belonged to *my* grandmother. When she was about to pass on, she gave it to me. Now my time has come, and I want you to have it."

"Come one, you're going to pull through" I said.

"No dear, this is it. I know it in my bones. I am not long for this world. Please, promise me something."

"Anything" I said. I just wanted to make her happy.

"Put this ring on your finger, and promise me to always wear it. It will bring you luck, happiness, and long life. And when your times comes to leave this world, give it to your daughter's daughter to keep the cycle alive."

I nodded somberly as she slipped it over my knuckle and onto my finger. My eyes watered up, and I started to cry a little.

"There there dear, don't be sad for me. I'm going to a better place. I'm so tired. I have to sleep now. Bless you child for coming to see me. I didn't think I would ever lay eyes on you again. Now my life is complete. I must sleep now..."

She laid back, with a peaceful look on her face, and quickly fell asleep. We sat there for an hour, until visiting time ended, but she never woke up. When we left, we all knew it in our hearts that we would never see her again.

One the way out the door, one of the nurses ran over to us.

"Melissa! I can't believe you're here!" she said. It was Katie, her best friend. I remembered her from when I was young. She had been pretty back then, and I had always been excited to be with her. But she never paid any attention to me, I was just a kid.

"Katie, I'm so glad to see you. I was here to visit Grandma Bessy..." I said as we hugged.

"I know. Its so sad to see her like that. Do you remember when we used to sneak into he barn..."

"...and read those romance novels" I said, knowing just what they had done from reading the diary.

"I have to get back to work, but call me! We have so much to talk about! It's so great to see you!"

"Bye bye!" I said, with a smile.

When we got back into the car, I was so relieved. I had made Grandma so happy. I played with the ring on my finger as we drove home. But there was something more: I had fooled Melissa's best friend too. That sort of scared me, that I could pass for a girl like that, and even fool another girl. But at least it was over, and we got home without incident.

I stayed dressed up as Melissa until I went to bed. When Uncle Jack and Aunt Claire told the usual stories that night, they would say "remember the time that you...." rather than saying 'she'. They acted like I *was* her for that night, and it made them so happy that they stayed up an hour longer than usual.

When I went to bed, before undressing, I read the rest of her last diary. For that day, I was her. I was Melissa.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, I woke up, and took a good long shower. I could still smell a hint of the perfume on me, along with the smell of the nail polish remover. I did my normal morning ride, and when I returned, I was surprised to find that there were three people talking to my uncle and aunt.

"They heard that Melissa was in town, and they wanted riding lessons" he said to me.

"She's not here right now, but I can give lessons myself" I said, helpfully.

"I don't know" said the man. "I wanted her to teach my daughters. She has quite a reputation, you know?"

"Yes I do. She taught me herself."

"Well, we'll think about it. If she becomes willing, give me a call. Good day" he said, turning to go.

"That's the fourth person who heard that Melissa was here, and wanted riding lessons for their children. Do you realize how much that would be if she could do it? Requests for six series of lessons, and its only ten O'clock."

It turned out that word spread, and there were over *fifteen* people wanted lessons by the end of the day. My uncle and aunt sold lessons in blocks of 5 or 10, so fifteen people times five lessons would be more money than they had made all summer.

They looked at me, and I knew what was coming.

"I can't make you do this, but you know how things are around here. I turned down more money today than I'll make all summer. If you would consider...."

"Honey, I know it must have been hard for you to pretend to be a girl. But if you do this, we might be able to keep this place. I can't *make* you do it, I can only ask. It's your choice. But if you were willing to be her for a while..."

"I don't know Claire. The we can't ask the boy to do that. It's too much."

I played with the ring on my finger, and looked up to them.

"She died last night, peacefully in her sleep. We were going to tell you, but things got too busy" said Claire. I nodded. I already knew it in my heart.

"I have to think about all this" I said, and went up to my room. It was really Melissa's room, but I was thinking of it as mine now. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to be a girl! I wanted to be me. But this could save the family business. Oh, only if she could be here for real! But that didn't seem likely to happen.

I looked at the diaries on the shelf that I had just read, next to all of the riding trophies she had won. I felt such a bond with her now. She had hated becoming a woman, and now I was faced with almost the same thing.

Katie had called, and wanted to hang out with Melissa that night. She had paid me no mind at all the times I had passed her in the hall at the hospital. It was only when I was Melissa that she cared about me. As me, I was lonely, unwanted by anyone by my family and my horse. As Melissa, I was popular. Nobody wanted a lesson from me, but they all wanted one from her.

I didn't know what to do. I decided to go for a long ride on Suzanna. That always let me clear my head and think clearly. As I said, it was almost spiritual for me, like meditating. I had been riding the horse long enough that all I had to do was to gently lean, or press with my leg, and it knew where I wanted to go. Or I knew the course she wanted to travel, and I'd let her go that way instead of choosing the path myself. We flowed together, over hills, through bright meadows, over streams, and through the musky woods.

As I rode with the wind, I could almost see my path ahead, with a fork in the road. Down one path, I would be me; a lonely boy. I would have my family, but this, my special place, would be gone. Down the other road, I would be anything but lonely. I would be popular. I would be hanging around with Katie every night. I would teach riding lessons all day. The farm would be saved. But I would have to be someone else. I would have to be Melissa. I would have to be a girl.

 

* * *

 

After my long ride, I tended to Suzanna, then went back to my room. I took a long hot shower, and cleaned up before dinner. I got dressed, and made it down to the kitchen table, just as dinner was being served.

"Why Melissa, I'm glad you could join us for dinner tonight. Not going out with your friends?" asked Claire.

"No mother, I'm staying here with you so we can make the funeral arrangements.

Remember?"

"Oh yes, sorry. I'm just so upset with all that is going on."

I ate carefully, trying not to spill anything on my pretty white shirt. My legs itched from having just been shaved, and I squirmed a bit in my seat. My smooth legs showed, with only the tops hidden by my shorts.

"I have some soothing aloe cream you should put on after dinner" said Claire. "Then I'll give you a good manicure."

"That would be nice" I replied. I didn't have time to redo my nails, so they were just plain. I would let them grow longer, as Melissa did. I brushed the long hairs from my face, and took a drink of milk. I needed a lot of work if I was going to be Melissa full time now.

It was clear that Claire and Jack were going to treat me as if I really was her, so that I would be fully into the role. But I needed something before I could act as her all the time.

"I tried on my riding pants" I said. "They are a little baggy in the hips."

"Ah, you need proper padding. You don't have a very girlish figure yet, but remember, you'll grow up to be a woman some day."

"Aw mom" I said. Melissa's diary told me that Claire often chided her in this way.

After dinner, Claire gave my the manicure, telling me about nails and how to take care of them. She applied the nail polish in three coats, then added a clear sealer. She said that she'd be giving me some of her vitamins that helped with keeping nails strong so you could grow them longer.

She went upstairs, and returned with an off-white undergarment.

"This is a special girdle. Since you were so slow in developing curves, I used to make you wear this when you wore your dresses, like at Ethel's wedding. Remember?"

"Oh yes" I said, remember the description from the diary. Since Melissa looked so 'unwomanly' in Claire's eyes, she bought a special girdle with extra pads in the rear and the hips. It gave the illusion of curves. With this, I could wear the riding pants, and fill them in such a way that my body would pass for female. Between that and the falsies in my bra, I would be all set.

Claire ('mom') talked to me all night, reminding me of many things. She had me practice doing certain things, like carrying my purse the right way, or learning to put on my own mascara. She picked through my clothes with me, and showed me what sort of outfits that I should wear, and what to avoid.

I tied on my new shoes, and most of them fit me fairly well. I practiced walking in the heels, although I knew that Melissa only wore them on rare occasion. I had to really concentrate with all the new things I was learning.

At last when I was tired, I drank a glass of warm milk, put on my nightie, and started to reread 'my' diaries. I wanted to make sure I knew it all.

 

* * *

 

I got up in the morning, for the first time as Melissa.

"I am Melissa" I said aloud. I would repeat it to myself over and over. I could pull this off! But I had to be careful. If anyone ever found out that I was really a boy, it would be the most embarrassing thing in the world.

'Mom' had made Belgian waffles for breakfast. As Hank, I didn't really care for them. But they were Melissa's favorite.

"Wow, my favorite!" I said, digging in. Claire was determined to treat me like her, and there was no mention of 'Hank' anymore in the house.

I ate the waffles with strawberries, a glass of fresh milk, and took the vitamins she had laid out for me on the table. This would become a daily ritual. "Don't forget you have a riding lesson at 10:00. That Jenson girl has never ridden before."

"Great" I said. "I like it better when they don't have any bad habits yet."

Jack and Claire smiled. That was something Melissa had told them, something I read in her diary.

I put on my riding outfit, and checked myself out in the mirror. The girdle felt strange, and it was wild to see myself with curves. It made my hips look wide, my stomach look narrow, then I got wide again up top where the breast forms filled out my bra. My long hair flowed down around me, so I pulled it tight into a pony tail, with a scrunch. I thought the pony tail was rather appropriate for riding.

"Melissa, look at you. You look so professional" said 'Mom'.

"Thanks Mom!" I said, grabbing a warm oatmeal cookie as I headed out the door. She was making all of 'my' favorites today.

The lesson went well, and the little girl really seemed to look up to me.

"I want to be a good rider like you when I grow up" she said. I had never realized how much I liked children. This was actually very fun! Then I had two more lessons before lunch, and two after. It was a busy day, and 'mom & dad' were very happy. They had booked a lot of business since word of me spread.

"I have to go to the bank to deposit all these tomorrow" said 'dad'. "I'll keep some cash aside for you. You'll earn some good spending money" he told me. That was nice. I was going to go out with Katie the next evening, and having some dough in my purse would be good.

That night, I was very tired as I went to bed. I was sore from wearing the girdle all day, but I knew I needed it. Wearing a bra all day had also grated against my skin a bit. Perhaps I'd try one of her...I mean 'my'...sports bras. That might be more comfortable.

I also pulled out something I had found, in the back of the underwear drawer. It was a brand new, unused diary. I turned to today's page, and wrote. I had spent some time practicing her handwriting on notebook paper, and now I was ready to try it in the diary. At first, I could only think of a few things, like what I had done. But she wrote about thoughts and feelings too, so I started with that. I said how it made me feel so proud to see someone learning what I had taught them. I loved how the little girls looked up to me, like I was a role model for them, and how the little boys seemed intimidated by me. I wrote about how it felt to be popular, with everyone wanting to talk to me, even if it was just to say hello. I wrote about my feelings when I was out riding, and before I knew it, I was out of space.

I read what I had just written, and I was surprised how much it did seem to resemble the sort of thing she would really have written. I was really getting into the role now.

Writing my innermost thoughts and feelings in the diary became a daily ritual, along with taking my vitamins, and long rides on Suzanna.

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks seemed to fly by. I could not believe that one month could go like that, but every day was a whirlwind of activity. Work on the farm, give riding lessons, have dinner, get dressed up, and go out with friends all night. Katie was a sweetie, and we did everything together. We went to movies, went to the next town to see plays, went to dances, parties, or just rented a movie, had popcorn, and stayed in. I could not believe that a beautiful blond woman like that was *my* friend. But I never let on that I was attracted to her. In fact, I tried all the more to act like a woman myself. I would imitate what she did, and how she did it. She became a role model for me.

Mom and Dad were really happy. We had now earned enough money to ensure that we could stay open. Business was picking up, and it looked like we were out of the woods financially. They thanked me again and again for returning to them.

I had never been so happy in all my life. I had been reluctant to become Melissa, but now that I was her, I realized that it was the best decision I had ever made. I loved being popular! Guys were always offering to buy me things, if I would just go with them to dinner and a movie. Or hang out with the group. Women flocked to me, and I learned so many secrets! Not just gossip and girl talk, but secrets about women in general, how they did things, and why they did them. I was immediately accepted as one of them, and I tried my best to absorb all the feminine knowledge I could.

 

* * *

 

As late summer was moving towards fall, we had a special dinner one night. Mom's sister Alice was in town. She lived in the big city, and was a lawyer. She handled all of the family's legal affairs. She acted somewhat strange towards me, as if she could see through my makeup, knowing what I really was underneath. It made me nervous.

After the meal, Dad had something to tell me.

"Melissa, I asked Alice to come here as the family lawyer, because we have some business that needs to be taken care of. I've told you how you've saved our farm, our family business. You are over 21 now, so I wanted to finally do this for you. I am going to make you a full partner in the business, giving you half of it. When your mother and I retire in three years, you will get the rest if you promise to keep it in the family when you pass it on."

I was stunned. I was going to become the owner of the farm? I never expected that.

It was wonderful! A tear welled up in my eye.

"Jack, I need some time alone to review the papers with Melissa" said Alice. Mom and Dad nodded, and left the room closing the door behind them.

"I know all about you" said Alice. "I know about the sham you are."

"What do you mean?" I said, innocently.

"I knew, because you can't be Melissa. She is dead."

"Dead? No! She's in Brazil." I said, dropping all pretenses.

"She was, but her plane disappeared over the Amazon. They found the wreckage months later, and there were no survivors."

"How horrible! But why do Mom and Dad...I mean Jack and Claire...think that she was still there?"

"You know them. They would die if they knew she was gone. It was only their hope for her to come back that kept them going. Not to mention Grandma Bessy. When we found out, we kept it quiet. We told them that Melissa was there, but in a place where she couldn't communicate to them. In a way, that was true. I wondered if they read between the lines and really knew, or if they really thought that."

"They've treated me as if I really was her" I said. "I think they need me. I think that by now, I *am* Melissa, even in their eyes."

"I agree. They told me 'Melissa is back', not 'Our nephew has become our daughter'."

That made me wince a bit. I *had* all but become their daughter. I hadn't acted as anything *but* like Melissa for months now.

"They want to give you this place. But as an officer of the court, that would be fraud if I were to have you forge Melissa's signature on these papers. You're not her, so it would not be legal."

"What can we do? It would break their hearts" I said.

"It all depends on you, and how serious you are about this."

"What do you mean? Serious about what?"

"About being Melissa.

"How so?"

"Are you prepared to live the rest of your life as her? Is that what you really want? Or do you want to go back?"

"Go back? Why would I ever do that? I was miserable, but now I am happy. I was alone, but now I have friends."

"You were a boy, but now you're a girl" she said.

"Yes, and I like it. I never want to go back. Never!"

"Then sign here. This is a legal document to officially change your name. Sign your old name here, and your new name there, then date it. There are three copies to fill out."

I did it. I was now legally Melissa.

"This form is for legal change of gender, so you can have 'F' on your drivers license and such, without breaking the law. It states that although you currently have male body parts you are in the process of changing that, and you intend to fully follow through with your complete gender change."

I signed it. Let them cut it all off. I was never going to use it anyway. I wished I really was a girl, like her. At least I was, legally, now that I filled in the forms, in triplicate.

"There is a clinic where I live, and when you come to visit me for Christmas shopping, we will visit there for your gender reassignment surgery."

"I can't wait" I said. I meant it. I wondered if they could give me real boobs too. I was tired of wearing the breast forms. I had been using a home electrolysis kit to get rid of my facial and body hair. I hoped they had a better laser technology I could use there, because this was too slow and painful.

"Now that you are really a woman named Melissa Collins, you can sign this partnership agreement, and it will all be legal, and I can do this with a clear consciousness."

I signed the papers. I was now a partner, as well as a woman.

"Wonderful. By the way, I'll ask your mother to increase the dosage."

"Dosage?" I asked.

"Yes, of the estrogen pills you've been taking every morning. I can see that your skin is smoother already. With the higher dosage, hopefully your breasts will start to develop sooner. I know you must hate the breast forms. Those of us with breast cancer have to use them, or undergo reconstructive surgery."

"You have breast cancer?" I said, more shocked over that than the fact that I had been taking female hormones.

"Yes, it runs in our family. Once you have real breasts of your own, I urge you to see your doctor regularly for breast exams. You don't want to get it too."

"I promise, I won't miss an exam" I said. My head was floaty from the though that one day I'd have real breasts of my own.

 

* * *

 

I walked with Aunt Alice down the busy streets, carrying all of our shopping bags to the car. We had to clear the snow off the windshield before we could drive off. It was a thrill to shop in such a large city as this, with stores that had fashionable clothes and shoes, instead of having to order out of a catalog at home.

Tomorrow was my big day and I was excited. After the surgery, I would really *be* a woman. The increased dosage of estrogen (along with the birth control pills) were working their wonders on my body. My own boobs were small, but growing. I moved from breast forms to gel inserts, which enhanced my own real breasts, instead of having completely fake ones. And I was going without the girdle now. Winter clothes were more shapeless, and my own real curves were starting to come into place. Another year, and I would have the body I dreamed of.

I couldn't wait for the next day! I wrote in my diary about all the wonderful shopping I had done, how it felt to try on a fur coat, or to walk into a shop with hundreds of pairs of cute shoes! I was overwhelmed. And tomorrow would be the best day yet. After that, I'd be able to wear bikinis next summer, short shorts, and miniskirts. Mom and dad might now approve of sexy clothes like that, but I wanted to wear them like the other girls did. I was feeling peer pressure from them.

I closed the entry in my diary with:

And so tomorrow is the big day. I can hardly wait. I am as excited as a child on Christmas eve. I am going to get the best present ever tomorrow, and I hope I can sleep tonight.

Your truly, Melissa.

  

  

  

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