Page 42 of Precise Justice

After the meeting with Dr. Frankenstein, on the drive home, Mother Dear did something I was not expecting. She told me she loves me. I told her I love her too even though I don’t think so. I mean, she is my mother and I guess I love her for that. Maybe it is that I just don’t like her. Can you love someone and not like that person?

The really bad news. The surgery is scheduled. Before we left, Frankenstein called the surgeon’s office, Dr. Miller, and verified the appointment for the surgery. It is set for June 2 after school is out for the summer. They are going to cut off my nuts and use my penis as part of a girl’s vagina.

I am not only scared but horrified. I have told Mother Dear I don’t want this many times. I have even told Dr. Frankenstein. They don’t care. I have not written this or told anyone. A few days ago, I heard Mother Dear and dad arguing. I can’t remember the last time Iheard him stand up to her, but he tried.

She finally said what I have always thought. Maybe she said this when I was a baby. I don’t know. She slammed dad with it and she has told him this before. Many times.

“I told you I want a daughter. I should have had this done when she was born. Now I am going to have one so shut up and keep quiet about it.”

I was coming down the stairs when I heard this. I got sick to my stomach. I went back to my room, into my bathroom and almost threw up.

When I think about it now after hearing Mother Dear say it, I think I suspected it. There is only one way to stop it. Suicide.

SEVENTEEN

Dear Diary:June 1st

Tomorrow is the day my surgery is scheduled for and I am scared to death. I mean that. I am serious about suicide. I even figured out how to do it. Mother dear has a prescription for sleeping pills, barbiturates. (I think I spelled that right.)

On my way upstairs tonight, I snuck into her bathroom. I looked in her medicine cabinet but there were no bottles of any pills at all. I know she has them. She must have taken them out and hid them. The old bitch knows I don’t want to do this. She hid the pills so I could not end this nightmare.

Why am I so weak? Why can’t I run away? I felt relief when I found out mother dear has the sleeping pills. Am I too much of a coward to kill myself? Will life really be terrible as a girl?

The runaway train is coming to a stop at the station. I am too helpless to jump off.

The morning light is coming through the window blinds. It awakens Robbie the morning after the surgery. He, now she,feels a slight headache. She also has a woozy, fuzzy feeling in her head and a vague memory of where she is and how she got here.

Robbie is in the ICU of the M. Health Fairview University of Minnesota Medical Center. She does not remember that yet, but she is about to find out. There are several tubes running out of her. They are drainage and IV tubes. There is an IV stand to her right. The tubes are attached to bags on it.

Still groggy, Robbie turns her head to the left. The blinds on the windows are open about halfway allowing her a view, sort of. The view is of the building next to this one. It is then she remembers where she is and why.

Slowly and with serious trepidation, Robbie reaches under the bed covers with her right hand. She closes her eyes as she gradually slides her hand down, across her abdomen and onto the space between her legs. Bandages have replaced Robbie’s male genitals. For the first time she realizes it is over, permanently.

Robbie is sore, especially in her crotch and lower abdomen. She is also tired. Never having gone through any surgery before, as the tears leak out of her eyes, she thinks about how much it takes out of the patient. Right now, the only thing she wants is something to drink and to go back to sleep. She lies in bed staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, the door to her private room in the ICU is opened.

“Good, you’re awake,” a female voice says.

Before Robbie can reply, there is a woman with short brown hair, a pleasant face, wearing a blue smock and leaning over her.

“Time to get up, sleepy,” she says.

“Wha…, hmm,” Robbie tries to say then turns her head and coughs twice.

“What?” Robbie is finally able to say with a raspy voice. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah,” the nurse says. “In fact, you’re running late. We need to get you up. Okay?”

“No,” Robbie says while thinking;This woman is a Nazi hiding out from the war crimes commission.

“Trust me, it’ll be okay. The sooner you get up and start moving, the better,” the nurse says. She is walking around the bedto the side by the window. When she gets there, she opens the blinds to let in more light.

“My name is Denise; everyone calls me Denny. I’ll be your nurse while you’re in the ICU. How are you feeling?”

“Not good,” Robbie answered. “Can’t you come back later? Maybe come back next week.”

Denny the nurse smiled, then said, “Nope, sorry, hon. Now’s the time. We’re not going to do much. What I want you to do is grab this railing,” she said referring to the restraining rail along the left side the bed. “Then, pull yourself over and sit up.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that,” Robbie said.