Brooklyn concentrated on arranging the flowers on the dining room table. She was dizzy, nervous and nauseated from all the pills they had her taking; 400 mg of Spironolactone, 100mg of Cyproterone acetatea, Oral conjugated estrogens, and the Estradiol patch to keep her female. She also took painkillers and medicine to fight depression, to get up in the morning and to sleep at night.
Counselor Loren Greenblatt from the Jewish Transgender League was coming to celebrate Brooklyn’s birthday. Her parents wanted everything to be perfect for their special guest.
Brooklyn thought back and remembered another lifetime. How young and defenseless she had been, he had been. Only 12 years old, first they told him he ze was gender curious, a fag, then they told him ze was in the wrong body and needed to be a girl.
He said no a thousand times! But the doctors, teachers, the city and state social workers, as well as the Jewish Transgender League all agreed with cys parents; gender reassignment surgery was the only choice.
It was all ancient history, a lot of water under the bridge, sewer water. So long ago, and Brooklyn had changed, for the bad.
For the longest time Brooklyn had played along, for ages she tried to adapt, to play with dolls, but really all she was doing was biding her time to when she would be powerful enough to take revenge. That would be tonight.
“Put on a dress sweetie.” Her mother chimed.
If she were still a boy she would be strong enough to stab them; Brooklyn would have started with her mother. But it was so hard to focus, to think, to come up with a plan, with all the hormones and medication.
“Your lipstick is smudged, come over here.”
The doorbell rang, it was mom’s boyfriend D’Antravious, who sauntered over to the couch and started playing shooter games on the TV.
They sat down at the dinner table when Counselor Loren arrived, “Sorry I’m late, I was at the protest and we had to punch some Nazis.” Her powerful arms were still tensed up.
Brooklyn’s dad stood up “D’Antravious, why don’t you put down the controller and come join us at the table. I want to make a toast.”
“I’ll come over if I feel like it.” He turned up the volume of the shooter game.
Brooklyn’s dad had to talk loudly to be heard above the explosions and screaming from the shooter game, his eyes gleamed with Xanax accented hubris. “Brooklyn, girl, we’re so proud of you on your 13th birthday!” They raised wine glasses.
“You’re so brave!” pronounced her mom.
They all looked toward Counselor Loren Greenblatt from the Jewish Transgender League, she was the closest thing to the big man on the totem pole.
“You make such a beautiful girl Brooklyn, much, much better than you did as a boy!”
“Amen to that!”
“Don’t let them make you feel bad about who you really are!” interjected her dad.
“Brooklyn made soup, and she is going to help her dad serve it.”
“Sounds delicious.” Said Counselor Loren. “Love your dress and the ribbons.” Brooklyn’s dad held the tray, and she ladled soup into all the bowels at the table.
Finally they all were seated. “Can’t wait to taste your soup!” Dad beamed. They all dipped their spoons except Brooklyn who stared from one to the next. She could see that her parents didn’t like the soup but weren’t going to say anything as they kept eating. Good! Counselor Loren however started smacking her tongue and lips, she picked up her soup bowl and sniffed. The veins on her forehead inflated and she turned beet red; she was furious.
“Everybody, put down your spoons right now!” Counselor Loren ordered, Brooklyn’s parents looked confused. “The little bitch has poisoned the soup!” Brooklyn dimly realized they were talking about her.
Counselor Loren turned her attention to Brooklyn “You stupid cunt. You put your meds in the soup! You think I can’t taste Spironolactone!?! I used to make the shit back when it was illegal! You think you’re the first tranny to poison its parents?!?
“Unhappy we cut your dick off!?!” Continued counselor Loren as she rose slowly from her seat, propelled by large powerful legs, veins bulging in her forehead. Brooklyn shrunk back into her chair.
“I’ve had my dick cut off and sown back on more times than I can remember, punk!” She had Brooklyn by the throat and was lifting her off the ground. D’Antravious stopped playing shooter games and watched the white family in amusement.
“Put her down.” Whined Brooklyn’s father as he put his hands together in a praying motion. “Please!”
“Oh no!” said mom.
Counselor Loren marched towards the terrace window holding Brooklyn up off the floor, feet dangling, choking her with one hand, which Brooklyn tried unsuccessfully to pull off her throat.
“Do you know how much time, money and effort has been wasted turning you into a girl!?!” Counselor Loren was raging out of control, and with one effort she smashed Brooklyn thru the window and flung her onto the street from the 6th floor of the Park Slope apartment building. Thud.
A half an hour later they held the impromptu press conference out front.
“Hello everybody.” Counselor Loren managed a smile.
The reporters were all asking what happened. “I’ll tell you what happened.” She took a deep breath and her eyes grew moist. “Brooklyn was brave, very brave.” The crowd knew what was coming “But she was bullied. Brave, but bullied.” Brooklyn’s mom let out a sob, her dad, a whimper.
“We at the Jewish Transgender League see this everyday, we work around the clock to save lives, yet 50% of trans identifiers commit suicide.”
“Counselor Greenblatt, what can we change, as a society, to make sure not one single LGTBQ spirit identifying human kills themselves ever again?”
“We live in a sick, sick world. We need to closely examine the role that having heterosexual parents plays in suicides. We need to ask ourselves, as a society, if straight people should be allowed to raise children!”
THE END
