A Life Ever Changing -44- The Final Chapter :: BigCloset Classic :: BigCloset TG Stories <br /> June 2001 to November 2004

"The long and winding road that leads to your door,
Will never disappear,
I've seen that road before It always leads me here,
leads me to your door." -- The Beatles

The Final Chapter

The Final Chapter
By
Angel O'Hare

We drove through, and passed several huge homes and a few where you only saw a gate and driveway. It took us another five minutes to get to Betty's estate. When we pulled up to a set of beautifully carved, solid wooden gates, Harry stopped and pressed a button in a box attached to his sun visor. The gates slid open slowly, and I entered a different world.

This world I now entered greeted me as a servant and not a guest. I was hired help, and everyone who lived within the guarded main gates would soon be categorizing me. With a wave of a hand or a pert little nod, they would dismiss me. I didn't belong as a member, nor would I ever reach anything near equality while living here.

I did not doubt my welcome into this particular household, though. I am needed here! Yes, once again, I felt like I was actually needed! My new skills and my new looks were welcome in a desperate way. Two human beings needed care, care that their parents could no longer give them in safety. I had seen pictures of the twins, pictures that showed them at their best and worst. I had seen them happy, sad, laughing and crying. They showed them sleeping, waking up, full of energy and exhausted, ready to nod off. The funny thing was that they not only looked like each other, but that they were always in the same state. Never did I see one fully awake while the other slept. I did not see one picture where one was happy while the other was sad. These twins shared a bond that was deeper, and strong or stronger, than any two people I had ever met.

It is a funny thing when time slows to a mere crawl. A drive that should take only a couple of minutes seems to take an hour or more. This was one of those times. My mind flashed thoughts and pictures at an unbelievable rate. As Henry drove us closer and closer to the main house, we seemed to have slowed to a mere crawl. My mind swirled with activity, absorbing all of my attention.

How did I get there? I mean, there I was with some of the highest grades in the state. I would be going to almost any college I chose to attend. I studied hard so I could get an academic scholarship to a good college and now I didn't need a scholarship! My future schooling would be paid for by my present employers. I never planned on being a nursing assistant! I thought I would be getting a job in dietary or maintenance, not in health care, taking care of other people.

I had thought Rich would be helping at filling food trays or mopping floors. Instead I found Rich was not the person that would be working at all. No, Rachel Anne was born.

Rachel Anne: Who is this girl, anyway? I guess Rachel Anne is me, a slow progression and acknowledgement of what I truly am. Ricky was first a malformed and very sick baby his father refused to acknowledge as his. Yes, my daddy refused to even bother with Ricky, the little boy everyone thought was a little girl. I was his embarrassment, his living lie. My mother and aunt were all I had. Then after daddy was gone my life was a little happier. It was happier if I let others think what they wanted about me and didn't protest. I found out early that it was best to let them think what they wanted instead of insisting they know the truth. I hurt less and I didn't have to deal with others not believing me. Funny how it was that no boys ever wanted to be my friend for more than a day or two because of what their parents knew and said. Either their parents or the other kids in my neighborhood would say this or that. Once the word spread, I would, yet again, be alone and unwanted by all besides my mommy and auntie.

I was about nine when everything started to change for me. My way of thinking about things helped me deal with my situation and also made me mature in ways unlike other children my age. It was also when I was to learn how others wanted me to be and act for them. I found work and made money, but there was a catch most of the time. The ladies I worked for seemed to delight in having me dress as much like a girl as they could maneuver me into. Soon, Angel was created, my first real experience living as a little girl.

Angel was very happy! She was wanted and needed by many. She had friends her own age and was well liked, unlike little Ricky. Angel helped her family when tragedy stuck. Ricky was useless, but Angel could help and was welcomed and loved by more people than Ricky could even hope for. Everything little Ricky desired and dreamed of happening to him became reality for Angel. Ricky had a voice of an angel, but was picked on and ridiculed for it. Angel was a star and soloist! Ricky was called a sissy, a queer and useless, but Angel was called beautiful; was very talented and welcomed everywhere she went. Ricky mowed lawns, did chores and ended up wearing frilly aprons and dresses more times than not. If he were to make any money for his family, he had to put up with being feminized by almost all of the ladies he worked for. It was very hard on Ricky, but what else could he do? Angel? Well, Angel excelled where Ricky just hung on. She became a model not only of clothes but jewelry as well. She soon became a celebrity and a nationally known soloist. Her picture was in several catalogs and in newspapers. Then disaster struck!

Angel was Ricky! Everyone read that the new little girl star was actually a fraud! She was actually a little boy, a useless little boy who didn't deserve to stand in the shadow of the little girl Angel was! Ricky, who tried so hard, but was never given a chance because of his looks and voice, was once again exposed as the 'it' he was.

The very people who had admired Angel now hated Ricky and drove him into a catatonic state for six months. Now, they drove by his home hollering evil, hateful things for all nearby to hear. Now, they called, one after the other, on the phone to utter threats and other hateful things to Ricky, day after day. The neighborhood kids threw things at him and beat him up; they drove him to stay inside his home just for survival. Yes, Ricky went within and stayed there for almost six months! Can you blame him?

Later, he came back after help from doctors, nurses, his loving mother and aunt. A move to a new home and neighborhood helped; Barbara, the little girl next door, who liked Ricky just as he was, did too. Her mother and her father liked Ricky a lot as well. Things were going pretty good for Ricky until school started. Anytime Ricky was not actually in class, life was hell for him. Lunchtime, recess, gym, and, when he had to sing in music class, were nightmares. Home was his refuge and safe haven. His world was his family: his little brother, sister and his girlfriend, Barbara. He lost himself in his studies, reading and taking care of the house and yard. He lived to help others and especially his mother. He kept the home spotless and cooked meals. He learned to sew and to do laundry. He ironed and starched; knitted and darned. He bathed his baby brother and sister; fed them and changed their diapers; dressed them and played with them; he taught his mentally handicapped little brother as best he could. He was the best daughter a mother could ever ask for!

He had buried the past deep within himself, locking it away forever. It only came peeking back at certain times and he forced it back under lock and key as soon as he could. Like the time he took his sister to the Halloween party at his neighbor's home. No choice of what to wear as a costume; it turned out that he was beautiful as a girl! Not one person thought of him as a boy dressed that way. No, even his closest friend and her mother thought he was a beautiful girl that night. It was so easy for Rich to disappear and be forgotten as this young lady made her appearance. She stole the show and everyone had nice things to say to her. She was beautiful and so well mannered.

What next? The disease! To Rich, it was a disease, but it was 'just' a medical condition few suffered from. His body was flawed. He had known this long ago, but had no idea what the future had in store for him! No Thyroid Cartilage! (Adam's Apple) With the skeletal structure of a female right down to his arms and hands. He had all that and the poor excuse of the one male item he had, the one thing that refused to grow with the rest of him. Yes, puberty did start, a bit late and slow, but it did begin. Too bad it was a female puberty and not the male puberty he had prayed so hard to his own private angel for.

Sixteen years old with budding breasts and a round butt. Hips developing wide and arms that had a curve just like all girls have. He was in peak physical condition because he worked out everyday and very hard. It was his stress relief and he always needed plenty of stress relief! He didn't need a corset to have his waist look trim and thin; it was! The only help he needed was to look his age. Sixteen year-old girls had bigger breasts and wider hips. They were already well into puberty, whereas he was really just starting. The weirdest thing was how little it took to transform him into a beautiful girl, not just a good-looking cute girl but a real beauty -- a quality reserved for models and movie stars. A little here and a little there with a touch of make up, fingernail polish, and a splash of perfume and he was ready for his clothes. This small effort would stop people in their tracks. They would stare with their mouths open and often ask who she was. They would swear that they had seen her on a magazine cover or in a commercial. Rich was in a fight for his very life and he knew it. What did he do? He ran once again; he ran by going within himself and almost stayed there forever!

Reality is a hard taskmaster or even mistress, is it not? Ask anyone trapped in the wrong body; they can tell you about reality as it truly is! Ask the many boys that are in reality, girls! Ask the girls that are in reality, boys! And then there is Rich's case, a little different than most others in that he is a boy who wants to be a boy in a slowly developing girl's body with a worthless penis making him what?

Gender Dysphoria: Does it fit this case? Gender Dysphoria, literally a misery with regard to gender, is the condition of being in a state of conflict between gender and physical sex.

Well, if that is so, then what is my gender, really? What is my physical sex based on? I have a penis, so am I a male? I'm slowly developing as a female, but have a non-developing male organ and no female sex organs. Do I fit? Confusing, to say the least!

What would it take to make me into the male I think I was born as? I mean as an acceptable male in today's world? Impossible, the doctors say. My options all depend on the all-important question: What is best for me and those that I love?

Henry pulled the Lincoln Continental slowly to a stop in front of an elderly couple. I knew the woman and Betty was smiling as she rushed towards me as I got out of the car. She gave me a big tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. The elderly man soon stood next to us, so I extended my hand and said,

"Hello, I am Rachel Anne."

I hoped you enjoyed reading my story. This is my first ever effort at writing for others and in truth for myself as well. I wish to thank all of you who took the time to comment on this story. You made this possible and helped me more than you will ever know! I also wish to thank Erin of the Big Closet for all the help and guidance as well as the art work; song lyrics, chapter titles and the shoulder I cried on the most. Thank you Erin!!!!!!!

There are others who need to be thanked. Those that hit hard and often to help make me a better author through their comments and e-mails. Jezzi Belle Stewart; Purv, Aardvark, Misty Dawn, Prue, Lynx, Crystal, Sapphire, Maggie the Kitten, Jenna and so many more. I wish I could name you all here, but the list would go on and on. You know who you are and I do as well. To all of you a very heartfelt thank you.

To all the readers here just know that without you there would be no purpose for our work. With each number that the hit counter registers I know represents a real person. Thank you dear readers for taking the time to read my story and I hope you enjoyed the experience.

A special thank you goes out to Aardvark who did the editing for this most important final chapter.

Huggles and Giggles to you all
Angel O'Hare

Note: TG crossdress teenager 60's appliances deals Rated-M
A continuing story series of teasing scenes, part reminisence, part fantasy
Episodes: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30+31. 32. 33. 34. 35+36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44.