She kept shouting my name over and over again. Calling for me to dial 911. My Father was gone before the ambulance arrived. Diabetes had rotted out hi... heart. His brave and loving heart, had been stilled finally. His last words had been of his love for us, and then the light went out of my world for many years.Finally I started healing, and as I started healing inside I began to exercise my body. To remember the lessons my Father had taught me. Lessons, not just of the body, but of the mind and. It might seem like magic but infact it is merely one of the marvels of technology that our unlovelygovernment keeps coming up with.My eyes really are brown, and the jewellery and accessories are realenough, but my looks are a fake. My hair is a wig, a very real lookingone, but a wig. My breasts are pads inside a bra, and my body has beenpadded expertly inside these clothes that I wear to make me appearfemale. And I dread what my *mother* will want done to my body in thelong term. I wonder what. More

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