Fading Memories

You sit and listen to them leave. You hope for the best.

As you sit sipping your coffee you open the blinds and look out at the backyard. Your mind begins to wander and you start to think about the past and the future. About how you got here and where you were going. About how your mother's kink about seeing you in a dress had allowed you to discover yourself and how it sparked so many other moments of honesty to follow. These thoughts were soon drowned out. By giving your mind the freedom to wander it was only ever going to wander to one place.

You needed to be with her.

You get up and rush upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. Physically you were definitely starting to feel better. You still felt weak but you suspected this was just from the fact that you simply were weaker than you used to be. As you round the corner into El's room you see her look up with an expression of pure joy.

"Oh thank goodness." You rush into each other's arms and you once more feel two incomplete halves become one. "Almost half an hour that time." Elsie states. "We're getting better."

You nod. You spend some time together and you are able to relax. The technique of staying simultaneously hyper-focused and distracted was quite mentally tiring.

"We should try yoga and meditation and that sort of stuff." Elsie offers. "Maybe it could help us."

You shrug. "Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all. I think Aunt Peg dabbles, she might teach us." Plus I'll get to see you in yoga pants.

El giggles and pinches your tush. You enjoy a few more wonderful minutes together.

"Okay, I'm heading out again." You stand and announce as if you were about to lead an expedition into the antarctic. She gives your hand a squeeze and you are off. All the way across the hall.

You pause at the door a moment, then slowly you open the door and enter your old room. The first thing that strikes you is the smell. You knew it intimately. That old Jesse smell. A man's smell. You hadn't thought much about it but you now realized you smelled different as well.

You felt like you were stepping into the distant past even though this had been you just days ago. Your eyes scan across the room with a deep yet strangely disconnected familiarity. There it was, your old life laid out in front of you. You begin to move around the room, touching things, feeling them, studying them. You feel the worn texture of the old faded jeans thrown over your dresser, now too big for you. The cobbled synthetic leather of your basketball feeling harsher than you remember on your soft palms. Your thin delicate fingers run along the rough seam of your old jacket hanging over your desk chair. You pick up the nice black and silver Hamilton watch your Aunt had bought for you last Christmas. It now seemed so bulky and inelegant compared to your slim pale wrist.

You stand and just look around at your old life. Your emotions were stirring inside you as you took it all in.

Closing your eyes you run your hands over yourself. You feel the smooth sheer cloth of Elsie's pajamas. You wriggle your butt and hips feeling the soft cotton panties caressing your skin. You feel the flowing natural curve of your hip. You pull into yourself, almost hugging yourself with a cute little hum. Slowly opening your eyes you let out a long happy breath.

You sit on the bed and are reminded it was a bit firmer than El's. You notice someone had made your bed, probably your mother.

This was all your stuff and yet you didn't feel ownership of it anymore. Like you were in someone else's room snooping through their private belongings. In someways it felt like a museum or memorial for the old Jesse, and you didn't much care for that at all. It reminded you that this room could be better used and it reminded you that you had to talk to Chloe. This was Chloe's room if she wanted it. This stuff would have to go.

As you collect a few minor things you can't help but notice it is the memories you treasure most of all. Keepsakes, pictures, awards, gifts, and the like. These things were still a part of you. You look down at an old framed photo you had of you and your dad. You were four years old and he was holding you in his strong arms. Both of you were laughing, your mouths wide and eyes closed. He was a big man, tall and blonde and handsome. Whereas you and El took after your mother, he looked so much like Fiona. You wonder how he would feel about your transformation. Would he be disappointed to have lost a son? It was hard to say. You barely remembered him outside of a few small glints of faded memory. As you look at that kind laughing face and think of how much he loved your mother and his daughters despite their odd mutation you can't help but feel he would have supported you too.

You find a box and put these trinkets along with some school books, your laptop and a few other assorted things into it. You look around the room. It felt empty, abandoned, dead.

"Goodbye Jesse." You say softly.

You take the box and without a backward glance head back to your new life.