Twenty minutes into the movie, Marina switched off the tv, threw down her phone and sighed; sometimes it was all just too boring. It was barely 9:30...and she wasn’t yet tired, so she looked around her room for something to do. “Oooh, yes,” came a muffled deep moan. Marina froze, eyes widening, wondering where the sound came from. She continued to hear moans and murmurs, but couldn’t quite make out more words. She tilted her head to move her ear closer to the wall her bedroom shared with. She went to the spare bedroom in the attic, with me following. When she got there, she threw all my girl clothes on the bed.“You can put your clothes away.”“What do you mean?”“This is now your room. We won’t have a girl and a boy sharing a bedroom.”“But I’m not – ““You’re no longer my son. You’re now my daughter.”“But, I’m a boy.”“Not by what you’re wearing, and not by your actions.”“What about the rest of my clothes?”“We’ll have to buy you more skirts, tops, and bras.”“But my boy clothes?”“If. More

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