Monday was, without a doubt, the worst day for you since you’d made your wish. And the problems didn’t even begin on Monday, but the previous evening.
Over dinner, in which you were too tired to eat much and you learned Julie’s parents worked in Law, you were informed by Mrs Griffiths you would be going to school tomorrow. And to furth compound this, she told you she would be taking you there herself in the morning.
This, you decided, was unbelievable. Sputtering out, “But, but, I can not go to school like this. Nobody is gonna believe Imma in the eleventh grade. Also, I gotta find the well to make me a boy, and find my mommy and daddy to let them know what happened, if the well is unfindable,” you grew more and more agitated until the last few words were more of a squeak.
“You’ll be attending the second grade,” Mrs Griffiths replied as if this was obvious. “I’ll be taking you to Hobbs Elementary tomorrow, as you cannot be out of school, even if you are suffering from the ill-effect of a wish. To have you wandering around, unsupervised, would raise to many questions. If you want to go looking for the well, fine. You shall do so after school, in which I’ll be picking you up, and you can be out looking for it only if you Julie is with you. Otherwise, you and I going to get in touch of your parents, and I do not care how long it takes.”
Flabbergasted by what you heard, you started to argue against all this, stating how you weren’t in school Friday after your wish and nobody said anything, as well as hollering how your mommy and daddy probably wouldn’t be home until late in the afternoon. But none of anything you said made a difference, with it getting even worse was the way Julie said she would be over at Tina’s until dinner, as well as when Mr Griffiths stepped in and told you, “Young lady. If you cannot stop shouting and arguing, you’ll go to bed right now,” and feeling this was going too far, you turned to him and tried to get him to understand, but soon found yourself first told you were excused, then, when you still continued to carry on, he stood, lifted you out of the chair, and carried you up to the guest room.
There, he deposited you on one of the beds and told you, “When you can speak in a civil tone, young lady, you may come back down,” and turning, he left you sitting on the bed, stunned by the turn of events.
You did eventually come back down, at which point you apologised, hoping by doing so, Mrs Griffiths would change her mind. When it was clear she wouldn’t, you sat and pouted for a bit before finishing your dinner. After the evening meal, you were instructed to bathe and get ready to bed, something you wanted to refuse. But not wanting a repeat of earlier, you stormed off to do as you were told. Taking as long as you could in the bathtub, you were slow in getting out and getting dressed in a clean pair of pyjamas. Afterward, you crawled into bed, and snuggled up with the plush doggy. Thinking you wouldn’t go to sleep and you’d stay up all night, your body had other ideas and you were soon asleep.
The next morning, you were awoken around six by Mrs Griffiths, who took out a pair of black leggings with the piece which went around your foot, fresh socks, underwear, and a plain, white, long-sleeve shirt. Telling you to get dressed, she seemed to know you considered going back to sleep the moment she left and instead stood there, waiting for you to get out of bed. When it was clear she wasn’t going to leave, you got up, and picked up the clothes, not liking the idea of getting dressed in from of her.
As if she knew what you were thinking, Mrs Griffiths crossed her arms over her chest and told you, “You haven’t got anything I have seen before when I made Julie get dressed when she was about your age and tried to pull the same thing,” and with a sigh, you changed out of pyjamas and into the clothes she’d given you as fast as you could.
Led downstairs, you were sat down at the kitchen table. And as Mrs Griffiths poured you a bowl of cereal and you started to eat, she brushed, combed your hair, and braid it, then put on you the shoes you’d worn the other day. Adjusting the Velcro straps, she gave the toe end a light squeeze and commented, “Julie’s right. You’re going to need some shoes of your own,” before leaving you to finish eating.
When you were done, you were handed a white backpack with a riot of a pink and white swirls, which was reminded you of a tie-dye shirt. Guessing it might have been Julie’s at one time, you didn’t get a chance to think about too much as you were marched out to the car, buckled in, and not happy with what was happening, you didn’t say anything as Mrs Griffiths drove you school. There, you were led through the halls, already filling with students, to the main office, where you had to wait as Mrs Griffiths talked with the secretary, the principal and vice-principal about getting you started in the second grade. Explaining your records were being sent, you listened as Mrs Griffiths provided most of the information they needed, including your birthday, the day you made your wish, and how you were the daughter of Mrs Griffiths’ sister, who’d been in a bad accident, which was why you’d been sent to live with the Griffiths.
When they asked for your name, it was the one time you did speak up by offering, “Kasidy,” and feeling uncertain about giving yourself a girl’s name, you withdrew into yourself. And then, before you knew it, Mrs Griffiths was hugging you and telling you, “You be a good girl, you hear. I’ll pick you up after school, okay,” to which you nodded and watched as she left you with the three adults.
The principal and vice-principal excusing themselves, you were left with the secretary, who explained, “You might be feeling scared and overwhelmed. I know I would. New school, strange faces. But don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” and offering you a hand, which you took, they led you out of the office and down the hallway. Turning a couple corners, pointing out rooms where you’d have art, music, science, and physical education, they stopped after a bit. Instructing you to wait, they entered a room, and after a few minutes, and you’d watched a couple children entering, the secretary came back and led you inside. Introducing you to two people at the head of the class, you learned the teacher was Ms Cooper, whilst the TA was Mr Yoshida.
Left in the care of them, the secretary left and Ms Cooper directed you a desk you could use. The class filling up as the school day began, you didn’t have long to put the school supplies Mrs Griffiths had packed inside the desk before the bell rang, Ms Cooper took roll-call introduced you, and made you say something interesting about yourself. Not wanting the attention, you struggled to come up with something and in the end settled on muttering, “I like ballet,” to which Ms Cooper instructed, “Don’t mumble, before directing your attention to some other students also were interested in the same subject, one of them you noted was a boy.
From there, the day seemed to go by in a flash. You had most of your classes with Ms Cooper, a handful with Mr Yoshida, and one with the science teacher Mr Hanbers. And at first, you were worried it’d be pointed out you didn’t belong in the second grade, but after some time, you found the best way to handle this was to remain silent. Acting like a shy girl, or the new classmate, you pretended to struggle with the question when called upon, then, after a bit, you gave the correct answer.
But the biggest thing which concerned you was what you came to see as your peculiarity. You understood you looked and sound like a girl, there was still the issue was you didn’t know much of anything about being one, as with the exception of what you picked up on and adjusted to over the weekend, you were still mentally male. Scared you’d do something to reveal what had happened to you, someone would call you out when you did something a boy would do, or when acted like your old self, you found it odd nobody said anything, treated and behaved like you were another girl, and were flummoxed by how you’d managed to make two friends by the end of the day, one of whom claimed she was a tomboy, a term you were unfamiliar with.
Glad when the final bell of the day rung, knowing if you didn’t find the well today, you’d have to go through this all tomorrow, you decided not to concern yourself about for the moment. Exiting class, telling Gina and Kelly, “See you tomorrow,” you headed for the parking lot, where you didn’t have long to wait for Mrs Griffiths.
As you climbed in the backseat and buckled yourself in, she asked you, “Have a good day,” and not wanting to admit you did, you almost didn’t. Changing your mind, you nod and replied, “Uh huh.”
Mrs Griffiths smiled at this, and inquired, “Any homework,” to which you answered in the negative, and putting the call in drive, she eased her way forward, being careful because of the pedestrians and busses. Exiting the lot, she said Julie wouldn’t be home until supper and had gone over to Tina, which you found disappointed, as it meant you probably wouldn’t get to the well, and then stated, “I figure now is as good a time as any to see if your parents are home,” as she headed toward your place.
Mixed emotions washed over you, and you nodded and replied, “Okay,” and unsure why you felt the way you did, you spent the car ride over in silence.
When you arrived, you weren’t the least bit surprised to find, again, nobody was home. Mrs Griffiths explaining you and her were going to wait, the two of you passed the time talking about random things, ranging from what you did in school to speculations about the well to her curiosity of why you chose the name Kasidy, to which you shrugged, said it was the first girl’s name which came to you, then asked, “Is it okay?”
“I think it’s pretty and suits you,” Mrs Griffiths answered, and from there the conversation turned and the two of you talked about other things.
How long you sat there, talking with Mrs Griffiths, you were unsure. After some time, a car pulled into the driveway and you watched as your mommy and daddy got out. Looking at the Mrs Griffiths’ car as they did, you didn’t give it a second thought as you wrestled yourself free of the seatbelt and booster seat, climbed out of the back of the auto, and ran to your parents. Calling out, “Mommy,” and, “Daddy,” as you did, you were stunned when they stepped back and glared at you, all whilst your daddy commented, “I think you have the wrong people.”
From the other side of the car, Mrs Griffiths said, “We need to talk,” and sure, judging by the clear indication on their face, your parents would refuse, the four of you went inside.
Things quickly going down from there as, between you and Mrs Griffiths, you told them all of what happened. Trying to convince them you were who you said, you were outraged when they first acted like they didn’t care, offering an excuse of their son having run away, were sure he’d turn up, and when you, then Mrs Griffiths tried to further convince them you were Daniel, your father seemed to have enough. Standing, he stated, “I have no idea of what game you are playing at, but this child is not mine. But then again, let’s say what you and she are peddling is true, and she is Daniel, turned into a girl. If this were so, I would never allow such a person in my house.,” and voice raising, he shouted, “It is affront to God, and no person should change their sex, nor engage in the use of any sort of magick. As such, if this girl is Daniel, he would not be welcome in this house, under my roof. Not even if he begged God’s forgiveness to be what he is meant to be, a boy. He ought to be cast, to live with fornicators, idolators, and others who live in sin,” and going off on a religious tirade, you sat in silence, horrified at being exposed to a side of him you’d kind of figured existed, yet hoped never to see.
Mrs Griffiths sat quiet the whole time, as the few times she had tried to say something, she’d shouted into silence, and thinking, you decided to try a different angle. When your daddy appeared to have shouted himself out, you looked at your mommy and close to tears, you pleaded, “Mommy, please.”
To your dismay, she glared at you with animosity as she spat out, “Don’t you dare speak to me, you little brat. You are no son of mine, but the spawn of some hellion. You’re a liar, an affront to all of God’s goodness, and as such, are not welcome in this house.”
Your daddy getting his second wind at this, you yelped when Mrs Griffiths grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the house, all as your daddy shouted, “If you are Daniel, you are dead to me, your mother, this family. You hear me?! No hell-spawn child who dares pervert themselves in the eyes of the Lord is welcome here. Don’t ever show your face around here again,” with the last of his words lost as the door slammed shut, you were hauled toward Mrs Griffiths’ car, and put in the front seat. Starting to cry, you looked at the house which had been your home for the past sixteen years until Mrs Griffiths backed out of the driveway.
From where she sat, Mrs Griffiths gripped the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles and fingers turned white. Never had she ever encountered anyone like Daniel’s parents, and she felt sorry you’d come from them, yet, at the same time, a smidge glad at what had happened to you. Thinking this could be a good thing, as it’d allow you to get away from such poison, she kept this to herself, and when she pulled into the driveway, she said in a tight voice, “Why don’t you go in and watch television, or upstairs to play.”
You nodded at this, even though you didn’t want to do any of these things. Still upset about the rejection, unable to think of those people as your parents any longer, finding the best you could do was consider them Daniel’s mom and dad, you climb out of the car. Plodding toward the front door, feeling conflicted, uncertain what to do, you hear from behind you a car door close and about to go inside, you stop when Mrs Griffiths called out, “Kasidy.”
At first, you didn’t want to respond to this name. But turning after a bit, you couldn’t help yourself as, upon seeing Mrs Griffiths, you flung yourself into her embrace. Swept up in her hug, starting to cry once more, you stand there, being held and soothed by her as she said, “You can stay here as long as you want. You don’t have to go back to those people.”