Curtis seemed like a normal guy to anyone who knew him, but that was only because he never let anyone in. If anyone he knew was granted access to his true thoughts and feelings and saw the truth hidden in his mind, he would have no one left. As miserable as it sounds, it’s better to have a fake friend than no friend at all. At least it was that way for Curtis.1
Curtis was not really like other guys. Sure he played football and baseball and had a goatee and short hair and lusted after women and masturbated like every other guy, but there was more to him than anyone knew. He didn’t really understand it himself. He tried to. God knows he tried. But at the end of the day, some things just do not make sense, no matter how you turn them. No amount of illumination or shadowing can make the abnormal look normal.2
Like most guys, Curtis appreciated the soft curve of a woman’s body and the way fabric draped across her breasts. He was enamored with the appearance and feel of long silky hair gliding over skin. He loved the faint flowery smell of a woman’s body wash and the allure of vanilla bean scented lotion. Dangling earrings were an addiction, for the weighted feel as well as the look. Fitted pants on a full derriere, flowing skirts that accent trim calves… And high heeled shoes. Oh, the shoes.3
The difference is that Curtis felt that is how he should look, not what he should look at. And when he lusted after a beautiful woman, he lusted to be her, not to be with her. You can imagine the inner dialogue and x-rated visuals playing through his head when things heated up. Or maybe you can’t.4
Curtis didn’t want to be Curtis.5
He wanted to be Carissa.6
He couldn’t really explain why he felt this way or when it started. This is just how it was for him ever since he could remember. He could recall the time he got into his mother’s jewelry case as a little boy and put on her clip-on earrings. He recalled even more clearly the look on his father’s face as the son he had created walked around like some kind of pageant contestant, dangly earrings displayed proudly for the world. The mere thought made his backside ache. He knew from that day on that these feelings were bad, wrong, unnatural, and absolutely, positively, in no way for any reason were they to be shared with another soul. It was too big a risk.7
So Curtis lived each day as a man and portrayed all the idiosyncrasies he saw in other men as best he could and no one was the wiser. But at night, he allowed himself to be who he really was.8
Carissa. The woman he should be.9
Carissa was all the good things about Curtis with none of the hindrances that kept him from happiness. She had beautiful auburn hair that fell in random curls to the small of her back. She was a classy woman, preferring satin and silk to cotton and pairing well fitting jeans with a sharp jacket. Carissa was never a tramp, never a whore. She had manners. She had pride. She was everything that Curtis was, but freer to expression than he.10
In some ways, he hated her. He hated that she existed at all because it made him hate himself all the more. That this wonderful, perfect woman was trapped inside an imperfect male body almost made him sick to his stomach. It wasn’t fair that he had to pretend to be what he was not! It wasn’t fair that his friends, for lack of a better word, would probably try to kill him if they knew what kind of “freak” he was. It wasn’t fair that he was given this irreconcilable burden.11
All the years of repressing his true identity had taken an unavoidable toll on him. His body had been slowly covered in scars from trying to bleed out the pain. His mind always oppressed by the still frame images of his father towering over his younger self, lashing him with a belt, screaming obscenities, and threatening his very life. Now, the only physical evidence of this duality was kept hidden in his closet, filling a small chest. No one here must ever find it, he knew, just as no one must ever find me.12
Silent, he opened the cedar chest and pulled out the items he had so carefully selected, knowing he could only have a little stash. He placed it all gingerly in a black trash bag, tied a neat bow in the strings, and placed that into his messenger bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder and walked across the room to his stereo. Pressing the button, Queen began to play.13
“I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy…”14
The song trailed on as the young man slowly turned a circle, clicked off the light, and closed the door with finality behind him. No one knew he was leaving. No one could.15
Curtis was gone forever.16
Carissa was finally free.17
Author notes
This is my attempt to really stretch my boundaries by telling a story from a point of view far different than mine. An experiment, of sorts. I hope to do many more of these as sort of elaborate character development histories.
A contest entry
- Big points giveaway - closed for judging by Melancholic Smile.
3000 points, ended August 6, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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It flowed well, but you could have thrown in a little more detail.
Other than that it was good.
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I really enjoyed this. I felt that you described the emotions of his gender battle very well. It was interesting to see in your A/N that you put 'a view far different from mine'... I will be interested to see after the contest is closed whether you are male or female now! You use words well and create great descriptions/imagery throughout. I felt that I could feel the character's pain and struggles for what he was going through and I was happy for him at the end that he could finally become the woman he longed to be.
It is definitely an issue that society still has a stigma and lack of understanding about and I'm glad you chose to write about it. For a relatively short story it had a lot of depth to it and I don't think it lost anything from not having any dialogue. Some stories are better that way.
In paragraph 12 I particularly liked how you gave us a hint of how much he had hurt himself as he battled with his innermost thoughts and feelings and had felt so alone, unable to share them with anyone for fear of people's reactions, especially after how his father had acted. I guess some things are just too painful to ever share with those close to us.
I like this piece a lot - well done and thank you for entering
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that was pretty good. You have a good snese of stories. I just thought he was gonna end up coming out of the closet and tell everyone he was gay. I wanted that to happen to see everyones reaction. You should continue on this storie and make something happen. A biography isn't a great story on coming out of the closet. You need diolouge. Just continue on this you have a faboulus good start.
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I'm afraid you have somehow missed the entire plot of this story. He's not GAY. He's a TRANSEXUAL. Gay people don't want to be the opposite sex, they like the one they are. Man, you'd get completely reamed if you made that statement to the wrong crowd. Careful. lol
It would be interesting to show a reaction, but I'm afraid I can't force myself to write that sort of thing right now. He's afraid his friends will kill him, which is not uncommon if you read the news. He sacrifices his life to gain a new one. I think that's more uplifting than getting "approval" from one's social circle. And the lack of dialogue is sort of existential in that he keeps this all within himself. There is no dialogue because ... there is no dialogue. It's all symbolism in a way.
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I really like this, it pulls you in straight away and like Marta says, is nice and smooth. I also love the origionality, I haven't ever read a story quite like it. Nice one, and good luck in the contest!
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Great
This is a wonderful exploration into the life of a man who is really a woman. Nature's curse for unknown reasons,maybe he was a twin and took on his siblings identity. late in my life I met such a person, she/he was a beautiful black woman. Nothing about her was male, she had the sex change when she was a young person. Her family never accepted her, she was a prostitute.
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I appreciate your words. Interesting theory about the twin thing. I can see how this exploration for me hit a little closer for you, having the experience of knowing someone in such a situation. Thank you for your kind comment.
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A very good story. Original. Smooth and elegant. Nicely done.
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Thank you very much. I especially appreciate the "smooth and elegant" part. I always feel like my writing is choppy. Thank you.
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