This story is dedicated to my three net sisters. Joan Banks, Julia Manchester and Terry Sarkel who keep me sane and constantly help me with my writing. Thanks also go to Kelly Davidson, Prue Walker and Mr. Man  and many others too numerous to name who encourage my writing at every turn. I could not do it without them. My thanks and love go to them all.

Additional thanks to Julia Manchester for editing the story.

The Real Emily Bowers


By Genni Smith

I guess if you have to be a 15-year-old boy with the worries of the world on his shoulders, as I am, then my job gave me plenty of time and the perfect opportunity to ponder the meaning of life.

Riding my bicycle through the suburbs around my house early in the morning was my time to relax, to think and to steel myself for the day ahead. All I had to do was throw a paper onto a front lawn every now and then as I pedalled.  Yeah, I am a paperboy, pretty dorky eh? Well I know I get teased about it constantly at school but I figure that I am the sort of kid who's always going to be teased so I might as well make some money and have some "Jason time," as I referred to the hour and a half that I spent each weekday morning delivering the town paper. Yep, that's me, Jason Alexander Johnson -- J.J. to my family and few friends. I'm small for my age, a bit of a brain, which is always a dangerous thing to be in high school, and alas, I am totally uncoordinated in anything that resembles a bat and ball.  In short, I guess you'd call me a nerd. Sure I have my good points but I have trouble letting people close enough to see them. Once bitten, twice shy.

The weird thing was that I wasn't even meant to be working that Saturday morning. I woke up early when my mother angrily knocked on my door at 5:30 am. "J.J. Phone," She grumbled and then headed back to bed.

"Yeah?" I said, only half awake as I picked up the extension next to my bed.

"Jason?"

"Ah ha."

"Sorry to wake you so early on your day off son, but I’m in a real jam here. There's some sort of virus going around and half of the paper boys have called in sick."

I knew what was coming and tried to say no. "I really need to sleep Mr. Garner. I've got a shit load of homework to do and I want to get it all done today so I can enjoy tomorrow. I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry kid, be here. I'll double your pay."

Damn, he had to go for the jugular. "Double?"  I asked hoping he might add a little more to the pot.

"Ah ha, and you can have any morning off during the week."

The man is vicious. "Well I dunno."

"Take it or leave it Jason, I don't have time to dick around. Not this morning."

My bed was comfortable and sleep was at a premium, but so was money and he'd hit all the right buttons. "Okay," I said reluctantly  "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Good on you Jason. I knew I could rely on you."

Yeah, good old reliable Jason. Always there in a crisis. My eyes tried to fight with my brain and they almost won as they closed. I could feel that if I lay there any longer I'd drift off to sleep and good old reliable Jason would become good old unemployed Jason.

Looking outside as I climbed into a pair of jeans and a rugby top I could see, or more to the point, couldn't see that it was still pitch black out there and even standing by the window I could feel the dark tendrils of cold air lick at my body. "Virus my arse." I grumbled and grabbed a brush to make my hair look halfway decent.

Five minutes later I was up and out, pedalling like a maniac to get to Mr. Garner's news agency a few kilometres away.

His shop was in a row of 10, but all of them were dark as I parked my bike out the front. Only the news agency showed any sign of life. Newspapers and magazines had already been delivered to him and he was stacking them on display shelves as I walked in. "Jason!"  He said sounding shocked that I actually turned up. "Your blood is worth bottling kid."

"But not worth more than double the week day rates?" I asked half in jest and half as a challenge

He looked at me evenly for a few seconds. "I tell you what Jason. If you do two of the routes I'll give you an extra $20 a week for as long as you work for me."  Did I mention that Garner was a great fisherman?  He knew the one bit of bait that I couldn't turn my little piscean nose up at. "And I don't want to be opening this store everyday." He continued. "I'm gonna need some help in here, an assistant manager one day soon."

Hook line and sinker. "You're on."  I figured that even if the assistant manager position was a pipe dream that I'd still be ahead when it came to money and the extra time it'd take to do one of the other routes would give me plenty of time to spend it a thousand times over. I always had these grandiose schemes for my money but usually I put at least %50 of it into my bank account and only ever thought about it when I looked at the balance creep up.

"That's my boy.  You can do Danny's route. You know that one pretty well don't you?"

"Yeah no sweat. I'll do my normal route first Mr. G. and then come back and pick up the extra papers for Danny's route."

Garner just nodded, motioned to where the two bundled lot of papers sat and then went back to put the magazines out.

-oOOo- 

Well I'll say one thing for the cold, it always made me pedal faster. At least it wasn't raining.  Rainy days are always the pits and I'm generally more worried about the papers getting wet than I am about myself. I've lost track of the number of colds I have had due to riding in the rain.  A trail of mucus running down from my nose was another reason I tended to be a target of the jerks at school.

I finished doing my route and then went like hell to get back to the store. If I were lucky Mrs. Garner, who was usually in the store by that time, would take pity on me and make me a lovely hot chocolate and let me sit in front of the heater in the back of the store while I drank. I usually knew when she'd got laid the night before because she had an extra spring in her step and I found two marshmallows floating in my hot chocolate. Unfortunately for me Mr. Garner seemed to have far more interest in his newspapers getting delivered on time than he did in his wife.

"Thank God you’re back kid." Garner grunted. "I've already had five calls from people on Danny's run asking where their papers are."

So much for Mrs. Garner's hot chocolate. "I'm on it," I groaned as I grabbed the second bundle of papers and lugged them out to the carrier basket on the back of my bike.

Danny was Daniel Jacobson and he wasn't too bad, not that I knew him all that well.  I'd only met him at a couple of the Garners Christmas parties. Danny was only 13 and so he had a smaller route and a very much smaller pay packet than I did, I hoped. It was also a shitty run because it took in a lot of the suburbs in the foothills where you had to pedal like the devil to get up some of the hills and hang on like crazy to get back down the other side. I used to ride around the area when I was a kid.  It was close to the nature reserves where if you sat quietly you could watch the Superb Blue Wren do aerial gymnastics in pursuit of its insect lunch. Unfortunately I was too young to appreciate it.  I'd just ride my old BMX bike around there like I was Evil Knevel himself.

The one big problem is, it was full of cul de sacs leading up to the nature reserve, and as I found out, it was very easy to get lost. I am not stupid -- I knew I was lost just long enough after I happened to lose myself.  Isn't it always the way? First thing I did was ignore my cub scout training.  Yeah, I was a cub scout too, branded as a nerd from a young age, and didn't stay put. Mr. Garner wouldn't understand that I was just following the rules I'd learned when I was camping in the Flinder's Ranges when I was 10. He'd just want his papers delivered, and I wanted to go home so I ignored the rule and tried to retrace my steps. Again, I only realised that not only was I lost but also that I couldn't find my way back to the original spot I had been when I first realised I was lost. The only saving grace was that it was now light so I could see where I was while I was lost.

That little fact also became my downfall when I noticed a familiar car drive towards me and I could see that he could see me. I tried putting my head down and riding past him as unobtrusively as possible but he was with friends and therefore saw me at the perfect target to not only help him exercise his muscles but also impress his friends.

I knew I was in trouble as soon as the car slowed down as I passed it and heard the gears change to reverse. "Well, well, well . . ." He said as he paced me. "If it isn't little Jason.  Look guys, its Jason."

"Hello Jason," someone said from the passenger seat, and I noticed movement from the backseat in the corner of my eyes.

"Hi," I said weakly keeping my eyes on the road ahead.  Another rule I learnt at cub scouts, never look a wild animal in the eyes, they'll think you are threatening them and will attack. Mark Perry was about the wildest animal I knew.

"How lucky is this?" Mark asked rhetorically as he leaned out of the car and somehow managed to steer the car at the same time. "Here we are on our way to footy training, all ready to get into battle, and we run across young Mr. Johnson."

Don't look him in the eye, my mind screamed. Do not look him in the eye. "Piss off Mauler, I'm not in the mood," I said, looking him in the eye.

I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it. I really knew it was a mistake when he braked and I heard his car door open. "What did you call me?" He said in his most menacing tone, and as my underpants could attest, it was pretty bloody menacing.

"Uh -- Mark."

He was so thick he was almost fooled but I could smell the rubber where his brain should be was burning as he tried to make sure what I had said. "No you didn't, you called me Mauler. Didn’t he guys?"

Three other equally large and equally stupid guys had joined him, two of them were standing in front of my bike on either side of the front wheel to make sure I couldn't move. When they worked out there was a question there for them to answer they all had the same pained expression on their face as they got the grey matter into gear.

"Yeah," One of them finally said.

"He definitely called you Mauler, Mauler."

Mark Perry nodded, glad that he'd been vindicated. "See? No one calls me Mauler do they guys?"

"No, they don't Mauler." A guy I knew was Mauler's cousin, Craig.

It was as if some unspoken signal passed between them as they started laying into me. In a second I was on the ground being used as a stage for their tap dancing routines. It's strange, but I remember lying there in pain thinking that they shouldn't be doing it because it was the weekend. Not because I didn't deserve to have the crap beaten out of me anytime, but only because it was the weekend. How weak am I? I didn't lift a finger to stop them, I just tried to roll into a foetal position, which wasn't easy when you are laying on top of a bike and watching the day's news flutter past your eyes on the morning breeze. I tried to tell myself that I had no hope, that there were four of them and I didn't stand a chance against them, but I wasn't buying it. Why aren't you fighting back Jason?  Fight damn it! Fight!  But I didn't.  I just lay there. "I wish my life was different." My mind screamed out. "Why can't I be different?"

-oOOo-

I don't know for sure what it was that I noticed first; it could have been the absence of harsh metallic bicycle under me, or the sudden lack or blows and kicks from the four tough guys or any one of the myriad of things that suddenly just didn't seem right. At first I thought I must have blacked out and awakened in the ambulance, but I discounted that when I realised there was no motion.  I dismissed the idea I was in a hospital as soon as I sniffed at the air and didn't notice that strange hospital smell.

"Are you okay honey?" A woman asked.

Tentatively I opened my eyes and adjusted my focus from the medium distance I expected the woman to be from me almost to the immediate foreground.  Something was definitely not right.  The woman, a smiling blonde lady who looked to be around 30 years old, appeared to be kneeling down, but it sure as hell felt as though I was standing and I was looking at her an inch or so below eye level.

"Did you make a wish sweetie?"

Make a wish?  It was only then that my attention was directed to the small cupcake she held in her hand, a cupcake that sported a solitary candle which was extinguished, little ribbons of smoke rose from it like delicate crystal.

The woman continued on her merry way. "You'll get your big cake at the party later on honey, this is just a special cake between us."

Okay, now I wondered if I was so damaged that I ended up in the psyche ward with this crazy woman who, it appeared, had birthday fantasies.

I wanted to look away, to look around the room and find out where the hell I was, but there was something in her eyes, her big blue eyes that made me give all of my attention to her. Maybe it was self preservation, if she had a cake she might very well have a knife and I was kind of hoping her eyes might indicate if she intended to plunge said knife into my chest.

"So," Psycho woman said bending forward just a little and looking at me even closer, "What would you like to wear today?"

So now this is really getting nuts.  Either I had done one and a half paper delivery routes naked, in which case I didn't blame Mauler one little bit for beating me up, or this lady was under the illusion that I needed to get changed into something more comfortable. I am a teenaged boy for crying out loud, the only thing more comfortable than jeans are shorts in the summer and even those I only wear around home, not wanting to inflict my legs on anyone who didn't have to put up with them by accident of family.

"Something pretty?" She asked.

Yeah Lady, what the hell, lets go for an evening gown, elbow length gloves and a tiara shall we?

All jokes aside I only began to have grave concerns about my sanity when the woman stood up, and up, and up. She literally towered over me and by breaking the eye hold she had on me she allowed me to look around and more importantly look at myself.

The room I was standing in was made for the giantess of a lady who was now moving off to my right. All of the fittings were huge, wardrobes seemed to stretch on forever, I could just peek up at the tops of dressing tables and chests of drawers and even the bed was well over waist height on me now. I didn't remember selling a cow and getting three magical beans for it but somehow I had entered the land of the giants.

I noticed the pink comforter on the bed around the same time that I saw the delicate little rose buds on the white wall paper and not long before I saw the collection of dolls up towards one wall of the bedroom sitting on top of what appeared to be a large toy chest.

That's about when I saw the mirror, one of those full-length jobs that hung on a frame so it could be tilted. My eyes first saw a blur of movement behind me.  The woman was happily flittering from gigantic wardrobe to the colossal chest of drawers. Then, when I had satisfied that reflex urge to work out what was moving, I noticed the only other human figure in the room. That didn't make sense, I thought as I looked at the little girl. Where was I?

Only the giantess and this little girl appeared before me, and my mind tried to make sense of it all as I continued to look at the smaller of the two. She appeared no older than 5 years of age, and from what I could see she had every appearance of just waking up, right down to the little clumps of sleep at the corner of her blue eyes. She had blonde tresses that messily curled their way down and spilled onto her shoulders. She was wearing a large red T-shirt with some strange, undecipherable writing and a picture of a ballerina on it.

Where was I? Where the hell was Jason?

I moved my head ever so slightly down and saw that I was dressed in a red item of clothing and more alarmingly that curly blonde hair appeared on my left shoulder and continued on until it was somewhere near my armpit. I reached down and pulled the t-shirt up a bit to look at the writing, this time it made sense, sort of. Grandma's Little Prima Donna it read upside down, I worked out that it was the mirror that warped it so much that it was hard to read.

"Come on Emily," the giantess said as she looked down at me. "You've got a big day ahead of you princess, and it's time to get you all clean and dressed for it."  With that a big hand scooped up a small one that for all intents and purposes was attached to my arm and she led me out of the room and into an unfamiliar house.

I felt the hair dance across my shoulders through the t-shirt and tickle what skin the red cloth didn’t cover as we walked down a long corridor and into a bathroom.

"Do you need to pee?"

It wasn't a question I was expecting. I would have been ready for, "Are you happier now that you're insane?"  Or, "Do you have any idea you're on the new and improved candid camera?"  Or maybe even, "Weren't you warned that all of that junk food was bad for your health?"

"Do you need to pee?"  It wasn't even in my top 100 of expected questions, but now that it had been asked I did notice a "bloating," I guess you'd call it.

Too afraid to talk I simply nodded.

"Okay honey, you might as well take off your nightie and panties while I get the bath running."

Run? Yes, what a good idea.  I should make a run for it.  But my mind was in some weird state of total shock as it slowly processed that this was all too real and my feet might as well have been bolted to the floor.

The blonde looked at me with a funny expression playing on her face. "You're still half asleep aren’t you?"  She asked. "Here, let me help."

The sound of the tap water running into the bath now spurred some more primal instinct in me, and as the woman took off the shirt and helped me balance to get my undies off I noticed I was shifting my weight.  No, I was almost hopping from one foot to the other.

I turned and looked at the toilet from hell. The bowl came up to my waist, and as I looked down for my dick I came to the conclusion that I would need a step to stand on, even if my penis was there, which it wasn't.  I turned, put my hands on the seat and pretty much lifted my bottom into place. Then, without warning, I relaxed the right muscles and heard the trickle of water flowing into the bowl, a trickle that felt like a flood coming from somewhere deep inside of me.

"Ooh, it sounds like you really needed that. You are a good girl." Big Blondie cooed as she pulled off a few sheets of toilet paper and handed them to me.

'Lady,' I thought, 'if you reckon that pissing makes me Einstein you'll be doing cartwheels when you work out that not only can I read, I can do all of my times tables by heart.'  Still there was plenty of time to show off later, right now I needed to attend to something else.

I must have waited too long to do it because she gently took the paper back and in the next second I felt something so totally foreign to my 15 years of experience as she wiped me between the legs, right where I didn't really have anything there until that fateful extra shift for Mr. Garner.  I almost jumped out of my skin at the strangeness of it.

"I don’t know what's wrong with you this morning Emily. I guess turning six is a big day in any girl's life."

SIX?

"Well come on then, this bath isn’t getting any warmer." She picked me up like I was a rag doll and placed me in the luke warm and very bubbly water.

"Mum?"  I asked, taking a pretty educated guess at the woman's identity, and was stunned to hear a tiny voice echo around the tiled room, I don't mean tiny as in volume, I mean that it was so obviously that of a little girl.

"Mummy! Yeah baby?"

"What day is it?"  Again that voice was the only voice I heard aurally even though the voice in my head was unmistakably that of Jason.

"It's your birthday silly."  The mother said in that annoying voice adults reserve for small children and animals.

"No, I mean what DAY is it?"  I said a little more forcefully.

"It's a Saturday sweetie, otherwise you'd be getting ready for school."

I ventured only one more question before I intended to shut up and let my brain go to work on the problem. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight. Why?"

"I just wondered."  The time line all fitted in, as long as it was the same Saturday that I had been doing the paper route. The word wish loomed in my mind. I had made a wish at what must have been pretty much the same time as this Emily girl. That left two questions, well actually it left me with two million questions but there were two real standouts. What had the little girl wished? And what sick fucker In charge of the great control room of the universe or whatever the hell it was had thought that this life is what I had meant when I asked for different?

When the bath was over I had been scrubbed from head to toe, shampooed, and smelled like some sort of flower.  I climbed out of the tub, "climbed" being the appropriate word, and stood there shivering with cold I had never felt as strongly. When I looked down at the pipe cleaner like legs and arms and the thin frame of my new body I guessed that there was no longer as much of me for the cold to get through so it stood back, laughed briefly at my poor defences and then attacked with a vengeance.  Every part of me was shivering so much that it would have looked like I was having some type of seizure. The mother, as I took to calling the blonde lady in my mind, smiled sweetly at me and wrapped what I first thought was a blanket around me.  It completely covered me and with shock I realized it was only a towel.

The mother, not my mother mind you, my mother was probably still in her bed which is where I should have been. Oh hell, now I have you thinking that I share the bed with my mother, I meant my bed. Where was I? Oh yeah, the mother patted me dry and then rubbed the towel into my hair. She gently placed the towel around me again and walked me back to the little girl's bedroom.

By now the much finer hair was only damp to the touch so the mother rubbed it just a little more and then reached over, above my line of sight and grabbed something she'd taken out earlier.  I don't know why but I didn't expect to see her holding a pair of panties, but that's exactly what she had in her hands.  They were white cotton, with some sort of lace around the waist and leg openings. I decided I had no option but to grin and "bare" it.  In the end I forgot about the grin as she held them open for me to step into and pulled them up my legs until they cradled my flat crotch.  Next came a little matching undershirt. Whistling some little tune that was annoying the fuck out of me, she reached out of my line of vision again to the top of one of the larger chests of drawers, and this time I did a double take when I saw what the had retrieved. It was a dress, a real honest to god little girl's dress. It was light blue with short puffy sleeves, a white round collar, a white sash at the waist, white trimming about 2 inches up from the hem and right in the front, in the middle of the sash were three cross stitched, no appliquéd tulips. To say I didn't like the look of the dress would be like saying that I was only too happy to bump into Mauler that morning. Shit, he was the arsehole, why wasn't he in the little girl's body, about to have such a feminine little dress being lowered over his head?  Now that would be justice.

"What's the matter Emily?"  The mother asked upon seeing the stunned expression on my face. "Would you prefer the pink dress today?"

I shook my head and swallowed a few times. I guess it's pretty silly really; I was going to be seen as little Emily no matter what colour dress I wore but my male ego, given the choice of blue or pink went straight for the blue one.

The mother took the dress off the hanger and fiddled around at the back of it for a minute, then told me to put my arms up, which I did and she guided my skinny little arms into the correct holes and did the same with my head. When she was done fussing with the hem and petticoats at the front she asked me to turn around and I felt the dress slide against my legs. Then I worked out that she was buttoning up four or five buttons and tying the sash in what I could only imagine was a perfect bow. I was trapped in the dress until someone released me.

"Sit down sweetie."

I reluctantly did as she asked thinking the worst was over. The mother bunched up a sock and then steered the toes of my right foot into the right place and continued up over the heel and up my calf. There was lace at the top of the damn sock and I noticed the sock itself was quite thin with diamond shaped little holes running up the right and left side of it, from where the shoe would go, all the way to the frilly top. She repeated the same routine on my left foot and then reached over and grabbed two black shiny leather Mary Jane shoes.

Gently pulling me to my feet she scooped me up again and placed me on chair that looked to me as if it was a long way off the ground. Making sure I stayed as still as possible to rule out a fall, I looked up and saw the same girly face looking back at me from a different mirror as I had just a little earlier. She had most of her baby teeth, but still had one missing left of the larger front teeth, a charming fact that made her look all the more like a little girl. She had dimples on her chubby cheeks and a sprinkling of freckles on her cute little button nose and under her eyes that took nothing away from the fact that the rest of her skin was flawless peaches and cream. The freckles if anything added to the Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm appearance of her.

I sat there for what felt like forever as the mother went to work on Emily's hair. She brushed it like a million times and I squealed sounding like any other little girl when she hit some tangles. A huge weight was lifted from me when she stopped brushing and combing only to flatten me when she started plating and styling my hair. It was obvious to me now that the mother was intent on dressing little Emily like a princess for her birthday, which would be fine if I wasn't stuck inside of little Emily's body. The mother was plaiting a long braid at the back of my head and had separated some hair from the left and right of my face when one word hit me like a tonne of bricks. Party! The mother had said that the little cake was just special between her and Emily and there would be a bigger one at the party. Oh shit.

When my hair was braided in one long plait down the back and tied off with some sort of elastic band the mother took the two long locks of hair from either side of my face and proceeded to plait them as well, then she did some sort of girlie hair shit that I couldn't see, but which I knew hurt, and she pulled both smaller strands of plaited hair around behind my head and attached them to the larger plait at the back. After all of this had been done I was surprised to feel there was still a lot of hair that tickled my back and shoulders, and when I gingerly turned to the left I could see that the mother had left most of the hair the normal length and the plaits were there for decoration.

Thinking that it now had to be over I was about to hop down and wondered if I should employ a sharper for the descent. "Hang on Emily, we're not quite done."

"We're not?"  I asked in that childish tone.

"Uh uh."

What the hell else can there be? A question that was answered when the mother reached into a jewellery box and pulled out a little silver charm bracelet which she attached to my left wrist, a pink Barbie wrist watch was fastened to my right wrist and two small silver earrings in the shape of love hearts. A thought crossed my mind fleetingly as I pondered if my ears were in fact pierced but I needn't have worried. She tilted my left ear up first and deftly placed the spike through then added the backing and did the same for my right ear. Next came just a little pink lip gloss and the tiniest little bit of blush. "A treat," she told me. "Just for today.  You can wear make up when you're older, okay Emily?"

I can't wait. "Yes Mummy."

"There you go pumpkin. All done."  The mother told me as she helped me down from the chair and carefully set me down on my feet. She handed me a little light blue handbag that matched the dress and said, "We'd better get going."

"Going? Go where?"

"We are meeting grandma for morning tea sweetie, and then we are going shopping. Don't worry though we will be back in plenty of time for your party. You must be hungry sweetie, you didn't even eat your cup cake and you haven't had breakfast."

Food was the last thing on my mind.

"No matter," She continued. "We can get something for you at the Mall."

Taking my hand she walked me through parts of the house I hadn't had time to see, and then outside to a car, only stopping to grab her handbag and her keys. As we got into the car I looked all around, half of me was worried there would be people who would see me and laugh at Jason in the little girl's dress, and the other half was trying to work out exactly where I was. No one was around apart from one old man walking a dog and two boys in their early teens who wandered past on skate boards so I shifted my attention to my surroundings.

It all looked so familiar, and as I was placed into back seat and the seat belt was clamped firmly in place, I could see my petticoats and dress all fighting to beat gravity and I suspected my panties were showing to the world .I was shocked to realize that I wasn't too far from where Mauler and his mates had stopped me that morning.  Maybe two blocks, maybe three. My suspicions were confirmed as the mother started to drive through streets I knew all too well. I appeared we were heading for the Mall where I spent a bit of my hard earned money trying to beat the baddies while playing arcade games.

It was only when I was helped out of the seat and out of that car that I saw how big the world looked to a small child. A large number of other people were parking and then walking to the mall, and most of them were even taller than the mother. Cars were huge, doors were huge, even shopping trolleys were huge. I took the mother's hand out of a sense of self-preservation and fear this time, and we walked into the Mall where the crowd of giants moved around me. It was strange and disheartening to notice how many of them didn't even see me, and the few that did simply smiled at me like I was brain damaged. I kept wanted to shout ‘look down for crying out loud I am a person too, just a little one.’

My legs were already tired from trying to keep up with the mother's long strides as we turned into a large cafe on the first floor of the mall. I wasn't looking forward to using the escalator again to get back up to the car. The moving stairs had sent terror down my spine when I saw not only how big they looked but also how crowded. The mother had walked onto it like it was nothing, and as she moved off still holding my hand I was pulled onto it and almost toppled down a single step, a step that I hadn't given a moments thought to the day before. Next came what I can only describe as claustrophobia as more people hopped on behind me and seemed to close in on my like a wall. I was trapped looking at a fat man's butt, and there was a large elderly woman behind me.  The old woman had looked down at me and smiled that smile again. "Hello there precious," She said.  I was glad at first to turn away from the fat butt that was inches from my face but stretching my neck around and up was a strain. I smiled weakly back at the old woman who was grossly obese. "Aren’t you a pretty little thing?" She asked rhetorically.

The mother who obviously didn't know what rhetorical was grinned at the old woman. "Thankyou. Say 'thank you' Emily." She said to me.

"Thankyou." I parroted.

"Emily. That is a beautiful name for a such a pretty girl in a lovely dress."

"Emily is six today, aren't you Emily?"

I inwardly groaned as the mother said it but nodded nonetheless.

"Six?  My you're getting to be a big girl aren't you sweetie?"  The old woman smiled and reached into her purse. "Here you go darling, here's 20 cents for you."

Gee, I can retire on that lady, you tight arsed fat old moll.

"That is so kind of you," the mother said as we reached the bottom and I was shit scared that the crush of humanity coming behind would fall on me. "Say, 'thank you,' Emily."

"Thank you."  I smiled, anything to get out of the way of all of the giants heading my way.

The old woman smiled and thankfully turned right, as we turned left.

The cafe wasn't all that busy at that time of the morning, and most of the people sitting at the tables appeared to be early shoppers getting their morning coffee fix.  The mother guided me to a table at the back of the cafe, where a woman who looked to be in her early 50s sat. The mother leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Hi mum, sorry we're late."

"No worries honey, you're here now. How was your day yesterday?"

"Not too bad. I only worked for five hours while Emily was in school and then I did some grocery shopping. What about you?"

"I played tennis with the girls."

"Yeah? Did you win?"

"I lost my singles match, but Wendy and I thrashed them in the doubles. 6-0, 6-2."

"Good one."  The mother smiled. "Have you ordered?"

"Not yet.  I was waiting for you."

'Hello,' I thought.  'I am here too, you know? Don't ignore me because I look like I can't even tie my own shoelaces.'  I needn’t have worried. Anonymity was nice compared to public embarrassment.

The Grandmother finally turned her attention to me. "Hello baby. Have you got a kiss for your old Grandma?"

‘Sorry love, can you wait until my herpes reoccurs first?’

"Give her a kiss," the mother prompted, pushing me forward a little.

I tired to turn my cheek, but her lips were like a lip-seeking missile, and eventually they found mine. Christ almighty, the woman could suck start a Harley Davidson, and had more slobber than the average St. Bernard!

"You look adorable." The grandmother said when I finally escaped her clutches. "Is that a new dress?"

I was about to answer that she looked like the love child of Frankenstein’s monster and Katherine Hepburn but it appeared you didn't have the right to answer peoples question unless you were over 10 because the mother jumped in. "Yes, I got it for her last week. Isn't it sweet?"

"It sure is. Give me a twirl honey."

A twirl?  Bloody hell!  I couldn't twirl you if I had a forklift," I thought, but then I realised what she meant and reluctantly spun on my heels for her, feeling the skirt and petticoats of the dress flare out as I did.

The mother smiled at me like I was a genius and then turned back to the grandmother. "Well She needs some new panties and a bathing suit today. Oh, and a proper party dress too.  She's grown out of her old one."

"What a shame," The grandmother replied as the mother lifted me into a chair. "That was such a pretty dress. Still, we'll find another one for you Emily, don’t you worry."

‘See this look on my face lady?  Well it indicates that this is one little girl who isn't going to ape shit over some dumb dress.’  "Great."  I said with what feeling I could muster.

A waitress came over and they both ordered a cappuccino, and I was about to open my mouth when the mother said. "She'll have a small glass of lemonade please. We've got a busy day and I don't want to be taking her to the little girl's room every three minutes. I swear she has a bladder the size of a walnut."  The waitress looked at me and giggled.

‘Hey! Why don't you say it louder for crying out loud?  I don't think everyone in the mall heard you.’

The next hour or so was spent listening to them talk, for the most part, and answering some inane questions. At one stage the mother looked over at another table and then back at me. "Sit like a lady please, Emily."

"Huh?"

"Close you legs honey.  That little boy is looking at your panties."

I followed her gaze to a boy who looked around my new age and he was laughing like mad, ‘the rotten little prick,’ I thought.  But I closed my legs and kept them closed for the rest of the time we were there.

The mother ordered for me again, from the children's menu, of course, and I ended up with the smallest slice of ham and pineapple pizza you can imagine. I didn't like pineapple and I sure as hell didn't think it would fill me up, but I was in for two surprises. The pineapple wasn't too bad at all, and I couldn't even finish the tiny piece of pizza on my plate before I was full.

When the bill had been paid we headed off to the bathroom with each woman taking a hand. I almost had to run to keep up with them and my arms were sore form keeping them held up for so long.  When we got into the ladies room the Grandma headed for one cubicle and the mother took me to another one. Without asking if I needed to piss she lifted the dress and petticoats then pulled the panties down until they were around my ankles and unceremoniously placed me on the toilet. I was so pissed off at her that I didn't even realize I needed to go. Again she took off a few pieces of paper and handed them to me but I wanted to avoid a repeat of that morning's shock when I first felt the paper wiping between the puffy lips.  Knowing what was coming didn't make the task any easier this time around but at least I could do it relatively slowly compared to the sand paper effect that occurred when the mother did it.

The mother smiled at me again like I'd won the Nobel peace prize, pulled me to my feet and pulled my panties up. She fluffed the dress and made sure it was all in place, then gently moved me away. I was stunned when she undid her skirt and pulled it down along with her pantyhose and panties then sat and did her business. That is something I wasn't expecting. When she'd finished and had her clothes back in order we headed out and both washed our hands with me needing to be lifted to reach the basin. The grandmother was already waiting for us so we moved out and towards the first of what I found out was many stores.

I was tired and annoyed at trying on the huge number of clothes that the women wanted to see me model, and even more annoyed that I didn't get a say in what they bought. The party dress was even girlier than the one I had on.  It was white with more lace and petticoats than most wedding dresses I had seen. We moved from shop to shop like some consumer machine, and when I complained about my sore legs I was lifted up and placed into the kiddie seat of the shopping trolley where I was unable to get out unless one of them lifted me.

Finally after what felt like a week, or three, the Grandmother walked us to the mother's car, and I was even happy when she carried me up the escalator, sparing me the anguish of another ride at ground level.  Again I was strapped into the back seat but this time the grandmother climbed into the front passenger seat and the mother assumed her seat behind the steering wheel.

All of the way home the Grandmother sung nursery rhymes and encouraged me to sing along with her.

Here's one for you, I thought.  'There once was an old lady who sat in a car, she pissed someone off and now she's dead.'

Okay, so it didn't rhyme, but I liked it.

When we were back at Emily's house I was placed in front of a Barbie's dream house and told to play quietly while they got ready for the party.  Play?  Sure, got any matches?  In the end I just waited until no one was watching and moved Ken up and down on top of Barbie making them look like they were shagging each other's brains out.  Sure it wasn't much but it was my little way of rebelling.

In the end I lifted myself onto the sofa, well climbed onto it would be a better explanation, and turned on the television. I was happily watching Jerry Springer, just like I did when I was home from school sick, when the Grandmother entered the room, grabbed the remote and switched it over to some puppet show. "You shouldn't be watching this trash sweetie," She said.  The puppets didn't swear or hit each other, talk about their transvestite boyfriends or an aunty who was sleeping with her nephew's girlfriend or anything. How boring.

Around 40 minutes later the doorbell sounded and the mother called Emily to the lounge room where another lady and a little girl around Emily's age were standing. The girl was equally well dressed and held a big present wrapped in paper with ballerinas all over it. "Happy birthday Emily" the girl and woman said in unison as the girl handed the box to me.

More and more parents and children poured into the house, and the children, including me unfortunately, were all ushered outside where a large table was set with fairy wings and pink ribbon.  I noticed there were a few boys there who weren't too happy about being with all of the little girls. Personally I couldn't blame them.

We ate sugary food and played various games such as pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs and pass the parcel then the girls dragged me into a game of skipping. Somebody kill me.

The presents were all pretty damn boring, actually. Well I am sure the real Emily would've liked them, but the dolls, doll's clothes, more clothes for Emily and little girl's books were nothing that I could go ape shit over. I smiled politely and thanked whoever had handed it to me. Even the biggest present of the day, a pink bicycle just the right size for Emily, complete with training wheels was shrug material to me, even though everyone else oohed and aahed over it.

I had one thing going for me and that was my brain that appeared to be unchanged with the swap or change or whatever the hell it was.  As soon as I heard someone call some one else by his or her name I could remember it and address him or her correctly from then on. Even with the adults I could work out who was who either by the way their son or daughter acted around them or by family resemblance.

After a pink cake was brought out from the kitchen with six candles, flames fluttering in the light breeze.  It was promptly dispatched to around 15 little stomachs and 6 or 7 bigger ones.  The mother revealed a Piñata hanging from a nearby tree, and handed the birthday girl a very thick piece of wood. Well it felt very thick but it turned out to be a piece of broom handle that was big to my tiny hands.

A blindfold was put around my head with the mother making sure she didn't mess up my hair, and I took out some of my frustrations whacking away at the pig shaped papier Mache Piñata. All of the other kids had a turn and one boy bragged he'd be the one to split it open. He almost did too, but then it was my go again and I just pictured the Piñata was Mauler, a thing made all the easier because of the resemblance between the captain of the football team and the pig, and belted the crap out of it. The excited screams of little boys and girls and they dived to the ground to retrieve the sweets told me I'd scored a direct hit.

None too soon for my liking the party was over and the house was emptied of guests, leaving the mother and the grandmother to clean up. One good thing about my new age, I guess, they didn't even think about asking me to help. The bad thing was I was placed in front of the TV and made to watch Sesame Street. Can you believe that Big Bird still hasn't learnt to fly? And who the hell is Elmo? Jeez, things have changed since I was a kid. The last time I was a kid that is. Mind you I still think Bert and Ernie are gay.

-oOOo-

The day drifted away with more trips to the toilet and a very small dinner. I had a little bit of time to look around Emily's room while the mother was on the telephone to one of her friends, and I found that most of the books had "Emily Bowers" written on the inside of the front cover in a childish scrawl.  When she finally got off the phone the mother ushered me back into the bathroom and thankfully helped me out of that stupid dress. I had another bath and then she made me put on a pink lacy nightie, a clean pair of panties and before the big hand was on the 12 and the little hand was on the 8 as they say on Sesame Street the mother took me to Emily's bedroom, placed me in the bed and tucked me in. She placed a large doll next to me and read Snow White.

‘Hey,’ I wanted to scream. ‘I know the story already. A woman gets booted out of the castle and moves in with a bunch of short arses who make her cook and clean up after them. Then some old bag gives her a drugged apple and she goes into a coma and the only person who can wake her is some gay looking guy named Prince Charming. He can't get a girlfriend the normal way so he sees this bird that can't say no and gives her a kiss, probably cops a feel as well. I bet she scared the hell out of him when she woke up. He felt so guilty that he married her Blah blah blah. Happily ever after. Yadda yadda yadda. The end.’

But I guess this little body tires faster that my old one because before she even got to the apple I was fast asleep.

-oOOo-

The next day I woke hoping against hope that it had all been a bad dream but one look into the doll's big eyes and its grin that was almost laughing at me was enough to tell me that I was still stuck as Emily and another day was about to begin. I couldn't make out the clock on the wall but it looked pretty light outside so I hopped out of bed onto the cold floor and made my way to the door only to find that I wasn't quite tall enough to reach the door handle. 'Stuff this for a joke,' I thought, and headed back to bed.

Some time later the mother woke me in that sing song voice, and walked me again first to the toilet and then to the bath where I had my second bubble bath for as long as I can remember. I was worried about another girlie dress when we went back to Emily's bedroom, but instead I was dressed in light pink cotton panties and a cotton crop top undershirt and then a bright pink t-shirt and lavender short overalls with a large rabbit on the bib, topped off with pink socks and sneakers. Better than yesterday but still not that great.

A small bowl of rice bubbles was placed in front of me and again I doubted that it would even touch the sides on the way down but again I was full before the bowl was emptied. Some television followed as the mother did some more housework, and later she walked me around to a local playground where I was encouraged to play on the equipment with the other kids. I was a little unsure about it because I was one of the smallest there and some of them, especially the boys or so it seemed, were pretty rough. Eventually a girl who looked a year younger than Emily asked me to play with her and I spent a very boring 40 minutes playing tea parties with her in a cubby house. It was almost a relief when the mother offered to push us on the swings for a while and watch us while we played on a slide.

I wasn't wearing a watch and when I asked the mother the time I was amazed to hear that it was only just after 10:30 am. Time seemed to go very slowly when you made almost no decisions for yourself.

I was tired when I got home, the playground wasn't all that far away but one thing I already knew is that the combination of smaller legs and the mother's longer strides made walking even short distances a challenge. "Are you tired honey?" The mother asked, and I stupidly nodded. "Well you're a little old for a nap, but you did have a big day yesterday so maybe an hour or two won't hurt."

"No Mummy," I said.

"Yes Emily."  The mother retorted in a tone that made me know without a doubt that she wasn't about to listen to me.

She helped me strip down to my panties, which was a help because I found that my little fingers couldn't undo the straps of the little overalls without a great deal of difficulty, sat me on the toilet again and waited while I wiped then took me back to Emily's bedroom and tucked me into bed, pulling down the blinds to darken the room.   I didn't want to sleep.  In fact I told myself that I wasn't going to have a nap like a good girl but then reality hit me, the room was dark and I was too short to reach either the blind, light switch or the door, so all I could do was lie there. Soon enough my eyes began to close and I'd fought it for as long as I could, but after too many times of jerking from a half sleep my tired body won and sleep claimed me until the mother woke me a few hours later.

I have to admit that my energy was restored, and I felt even better again after I had re-dressed and eaten half a cheese sandwich and a stick of celery. I was in a mood to run and play but the mother informed me that she had an appointment at the 7-day clinic to get some sleeping tablets.  The Doctor's office was a bit of a shock because one of the kids from my school was seated in the waiting room as we walked in. I kept looking at him to see if he showed any sign of recognition but he ignored me and continued to look bored until his name was called.

A boy around Emily's age, on the other hand, greeted me and he asked me to play with him. I didn't want to but the mother accepted his invitation for me and we both went into a plastic cubby house, where he told me he was the dad and I was the mum. He then proceeded to play out every sexual stereotype from asking me where his dinner was to demanding I keep the place clean.  What the hell was he being taught? I told him about women’s lib but he wasn't buying any of it. In the end I kneed him in the balls and walked out crying, telling the mother that he had hit me.

When the mother was called in to one of the Doctors' offices he smiled at me and then ignored me for the rest of the 10-minute consultation. I had that feeling of being invisible again but I was almost getting used to that. We left with the prescription and stopped off at a chemist shop to get it filled. The Doctor had called the Mother Lorraine, and the woman who served her at the chemists called her Mrs. Whitney so I finally knew the mother's name. At the mall and at the party everyone seemed to call her Loll. The difference in Emily's and the mother's surname didn't phase me.  Half of the kids in my high school had a different last name than their mothers, who tended to be divorced and using their maiden name or remarried and using their new husband's surname.

Back at Emily's house I was dumped in front of the square baby sitter again while Lorraine went and did something. This time I was relegated to watching a video of Disney's Peter Pan, which I had to admit, was a little bit better than Sesame Street. Mind you I always tended to root for Captain Hook and the Crocodile, but again they lost and drippy Peter Pan won. I'm sorry but from my point of view a kid who didn't want to grow up was a load of crap.

When the video had finished I wandered up from the family room to see what the mother was up to, she'd only stuck her head into the room a few times while I was watching, and I was a little curious to see what she was up to. I was surprised to see she was showered and dressed to the nines, a wonderful smelling meal was in the oven and the house was spotless. Something was up and the Mother seemed to be anxious, watching the clock again and again.

"Are you hungry Emily?"

"A little."  I nodded, taking in all of the wonderful smells that filled the kitchen.

"Good, because I've made you some sausage rolls."

'Sausage rolls? You've got something in that oven that I'd kill to eat but all you offer me is sausage rolls? Get over yourself woman.'

"You like Sausage rolls, don't you pumpkin?"  The mother continued. It was more a statement than a question.

"Can I have some of that?"  I asked as sweetly as I could.

"Oh I don't know baby. There's lots of garlic in the lasagne. I think it might be a bit too rich for your little tummy. Leave it to that adults ok? You can have some when you’re older."

Adults? Plural?  I think the mother is going to get laid.  Well that explains the dopey grin on her face.  I thought about asking who the other adult was but decided against it and ate the sausage rolls with more than a hint of jealousy.

The mother wandered off to do something outside and she assumed I was watching television again, but I used that quiet time to grab a phone and dial my old number.

"Hello," a voice said on the other end of the line.  It was Mum, my mum.  Not the one, who has spent the past two days treating me like a six-year-old girl but my mother, the lady who did my washing, cooked my meals and even bought my undies.  Hell, my mother hadn't been doing all that differently to the new one I thought somewhat guiltily. At least Emily had an excuse that she couldn't reach the stove, wasn't tall enough for the washing machine, and had no money to buy her own undies.  "Hello."  My mother repeated, always the same impatient pain in the arse. God I miss her.

"Ah, hello," I said quietly, in case Emily's mother was coming back. "Is Jason there please?"

"I'm sorry sweetie," my mum said using the same tone of voice that Emily's mother used when humouring me. "I think you have the wrong number. There's no Jason here."

"Jason Johnson?"  I asked again, only too aware of my little voice.

"Yes this is the Johnson house, but there's no Jason here honey. Maybe you should ask your mummy to check the number again."

I hung up without any more discussion. I was trying to work out what this all meant, and I figured a 6 year old could be excused a little rudeness now and then, anyway.  It would just be put down to the impetuousness of youth.

"Who were you talking to?" The mother asked as she re-entered the house with a bunch of flowers she’d taken from the garden.

"The Queen."  I said as nonchalantly as I could manage, and it had the desired effect because she just laughed patronizingly, shook her head, and kept on going into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase.

-oOOo-

I'd been put into the same nightie as the previous night, and was lying on my bed pretending to read some of Emily's books but I knew them all so it was all a little boring, when I heard a car park out on the street. I didn't think anything of it because cars were coming and going in the street all of the time. However a short time later the mother called for me.

"Looks who’s here." The mother said proudly when I entered the lounge room, not even realizing that I was carrying one of Emily's dolls.

I looked over to see a young man sitting there smiling at me. He was obviously the mother's boyfriend. ‘Yeah? So?’ I thought. ‘What do you want me to do? Dance a highland jig?’

"Hello Emmy," the man said, holding his arms out expecting me to give him a hug. "How are you princess?"

"Well? Give Darryl a cuddle." The mother prompted.

"Hi."  I said reluctantly, hugging him.

Darryl scooped me up like I weighed nothing, hugged me to him tightly and then laid me across his lap and proceeded to tickle me.

Okay, so I will admit I laughed. I laughed like a maniac, but Emily’s skin was so sensitive that I almost wet myself. Luckily he finished tickling me and sat me on his lap. "Sorry I missed your birthday, honey."

I shrugged, still smiling from the tickling, despite myself.

"I wanted to be here," he continued, and I wondered if he was Emily's father. "But I was working. I bought you a present though."

I looked at the large gift that he pulled out of a suitcase and quickly unwrapped it. Surprise, surprise, it was another doll. Jeez, I really need more of them.  A cheap doll at that and I knew then that he wasn't Emily’s father. A divorced or separated father would spend big money for his kid's birthday just to assuage his guilt. This guy was just boning Emily's mother. My reasoning confirmed when I saw the label on his suitcase. Darryl Murphy. Murphy was neither Emily's surname or the mother's.

Still, Darryl made himself pretty much at home, and from the little bit I heard before I was dispatched to bed so they could have a romantic evening of sex, sex and more sex I learnt he worked at the Moomba gas field, and worked for a fortnight and then had a fortnight off, most of which seemed to be spent with Emily's mother.

-oOOo-

The next day, Monday, my third day as Emily Bowers, I was reintroduced to grade 2. The weather had come in cool so the mother dressed me in a little red jumper, a white skivvy, white tights and the same black Mary Janes I had worn on my first day as Emily. To top off the little girl look were the two pigtails that my hair had been put into. For some reason Cindy Brady kept flashing through my mind whenever I looked into a mirror

 The schoolwork itself was boring because I could do it in my sleep. What did surprise me was how segregated the school seemed to be and it was self-segregation. The boys stayed with the boys and I, as a girl was relegated to playing with the girls, hop scotch, skipping, those silly clapping games and a myriad of other equally inane stuff. It was probably the same when I was at that age the first time but when you get to high school and all of your thoughts turn to trying to impress the opposite sex the days when you worried about "boy germs" and "girl germs" all seemed like a bad dream.

I was actually glad when the mother came and picked me up at the end of the day and took me to Emily's house, and I was hoping to get out of the tights as soon as I possibly could. They were hot and tended to droop causing me to go to the bathroom a lot of times just to pull them up. Darryl had done a bit of work around the house and was half asleep on the sofa, but I had to endure another cuddle session and spend 20 minutes sitting on his lap while he asked me about my day. What was I supposed to say? ‘Well I learnt how to read words of more than two syllables and make clay pots that looked like something that Pablo Picasso might make while on speed.’

More time was spent in front of the television until Darryl decided that he would buy some take out junk food, and I got a McHappy Meal with a toy that some poor Chinese kid had probably made for 20 cents a day. I almost envied that Chinese kid, as long as it was a boy.

Sure enough, at 7 o'clock the mother told me it was time for bed and I went through my evening ablutions. Sleep came fast again as my little frame was worn out from the day's activities, and the mother observed I was running a little bit of a fever and had probably caught one of the multitude of ailments that kids are exposed to. I'd been given a child's aspirin and some foul tasting cough mixture that helped me fall into a deep sleep. That's how it would have stayed until morning, until a small crack of light appeared my bedroom door, waking me around 11 pm.

At first I thought it was the mother just checking on me as she did now and then, but as the small crack of light grew wider, spilling a soft yellow glow further and further across the room, I could see a silhouette of a large man. Darryl stood there for a minute, I guess he was trying to sense if I was awake or not and then he entered the room. I guess the mother was worn out from being on her back so much since Darryl's return, and she'd asked him to check on little Emily. Then the door closed behind him and I could hear footsteps as he walked across my room in just the small amount of moonlight that filtered in through the window.  I had no idea what he wanted.  Maybe the mother's birthday was coming up and he wanted to tell me what he was getting her.  Maybe he'd been called back to work and was coming in to say goodbye, or maybe he just wanted to check my temperature again to get into the mother's good books.

A small night-light was turned on and he smiled down at me and sat on my bed. "How are you feeling Emmy?" He asked as he placed his huge hand to my little forehead.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Tired and a little hot."

"Would you like me to put the fan on sweetie?"

I shook my head. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay."  He smiled.  "Your mother is fast asleep. She's had some of her tablets, and she's sleeping like a baby."

I never understood that line. Sleeping like a baby? What does that mean? That they wake up every hour crying their tits off and they wet the bed?  "Okay," is all I said as I looked up at him.

He continued to look at me and I kind of got the impression he wanted to say something but I really wasn't in the mood for a heart to heart. Eventually he said, "Would you like to play a game?"

‘Sure,’ I thought.  ‘Lets play hide and seek. You go hide and I will count to twenty million and then come and find you.’  "What sort of game?"  I asked.

Before I knew what had happened he’d taken my hand in his and placed it on something that was warm, hard and soft all at the same time. It took me a few seconds to realise what it was. "Eeeew!"  I said sounding every inch the little girl as I pulled my hand back in disgust.

He took my hand again and more forcefully he put it back on the disgusting smelling thing between his legs. "Go on, play with it."

Play with it? I don’t even want it in the same room as me. I shook my head.

"Play with it," Darryl snarled.  "Play with it or I will hurt you."

I couldn't run because he was sitting on the bedclothes, which more or less pinned me in place, and even if I could I already knew I wasn't tall enough to open the door.  "Mummy?"  I said as loudly as I could before his hand clamped hard around my mouth and nose, making it impossible to breathe.

"Don’t scream." He said angrily, and then changed his tone to sound a little softer. "Promise me you won't scream?"

I was running out of air so I nodded just to get a breath in.

"Good girl."  Darryl smiled. "It won't help anyway, your mummy's sound asleep."

The warm lump of meat had got smaller as I held it and Darryl took my hand off it and slipped it back into his jeans angrily. "Now look what you did." He growled.  "I'm going to bed.  Remember, not a word about this to anyone or I will hurt your mummy. Got it?"

He was a big man, and I had no doubt that he could do the mother major damage, let alone what he could do to Emily's tiny frame. Hell, some of the teddy bears in Emily's room could beat me in a fight at the moment.

Darryl continued. "Besides, we've done this before and your mummy will believe me when I tell her you made me do it. You're a bad girl Emily."

I was stunned. Rooted to the spot. Incredibly I found myself nodding and I didn't know if it was to keep him happy or because I believed it.

"Say it. Say I am a bad girl."

"I -- I am a bad girl." I said.

Without another word he got up, turned the night-light off and stormed out of the room, leaving a thousand emotions flip flopping in my brain.

-oOOo-

At last I had a reason to enjoy school if only to escape the eagle eyes of Darryl as he sat at the kitchen table the next morning. The mother fussed around making breakfast for both of us, and Darryl himself, despite his evil eyes, was acting totally normal to me. The problem is that normal included a morning hug and kiss. The mother gave me a quick look over and announced that my temperature had subsided enough for me to go to school, so she ordered me into the bathroom and then started running a bath.

Darryl popped his head around the corner. "Do you want me to give her a bath this morning Lori?" He asked.

"Would you? I need to get dressed for work, and I will pick out something for her to wear too."

"No sweat love."  He smiled down at me. "Don't forget your coffee is getting cold."

I tensed up as soon as she left the room, but if Darryl saw it he didn't show it.  "Okay missy mouse. Arms up."

"No!"

"Come one Emmy, honey, I just want to help you take your nightie off."

"No!" I snapped.

"Emily Jane, This morning is not a good time for one of your funny moods."

Looking around I could see the bathroom door was still open and reasoned that even a sick fuck like Darryl wouldn't try anything with the mother being so close. My guess was he just wanted to look at Emily's naked little body. I decided to play along but scream my little butt off if he even looked like doing anything bad.

With my nightie off all that remained were my panties and I tried to turn away from him as I did it, but he didn't worry about it. Then I noticed the bath had no bubbles in it, and for the first time I missed them. It meant that he would be able to see every inch of me through the clear water. "Mummy usually puts bubbles in it." I said as nicely as I could.

"You're a big girl now Emmy. A little too old for bubbles," Darryl said patronisingly as he lifted me up and placed me into the bath.

Thankfully the mother took over and dressed me, probably because she had to do my hair anyway. I almost hugged her when she pulled out a little pair of jeans, even if I did have to put up with a pink sweater and pink sneakers.

After giving the sleaze a goodbye hug at his insistence I breathed a sigh of relief when I left the house with the Mother and headed for school. It was a complete turn around for me.  After 10 years of being in school and hating every minute of it, watching the clock all day and willing it to go faster so I could get home, I spent that day getting more and more anxious as each minute ticked by.  I even contemplated being naughty to be kept back later, but then I remembered that they don't have detention in primary school they have time out rooms.

-oOOo-

The night and the two following days passed without any more nocturnal visits or problems from Darryl, but I was like a cat on a hot tin roof whenever he was around. It was almost as if waiting for it to happen was worse than him just getting it over and done with again. Of course the fact that I had to hug him and kiss him like any little girl would do to a father or member of the family didn't help, and the look on his face always kept me aware that he had my measure. Sitting in his lap was the worst of all. Quite often, after he lifted me up and sat me on his lap, talking away to me or reading me a story I could feel his erection poke into my little behind.  Talk about emotional torture.  I now knew how the old water torture worked.

On the Friday after school when I got home the mother informed me that she was going out with some of the ladies she worked with. "Am I going to grandma's house?"  I asked hopefully.

"Sorry pumpkin, Grandma's busy tonight, but Darryl will baby sit for you."

"Can't you stay home?" I pleaded.

The mother knelt in front of me so she was looking me in the face. "Emily honey, I need some time away from you. It's not that I don't love you, it's just that I work hard at home and my job and I need some play time too."

"Can I come?"

The mother giggled. "Sorry baby, we're going to a nightclub, and you have you be 18 to get into one of them. I don't think you’d pass for 18, even if I put some make up on you. Don't worry though sweetie, Darryl has gone to the video store and he's going to get some of your favourite movies, like the little mermaid, Toy story and Barbie's Nut Cracker."

Great, now I have to worry about Darryl and the boring bloody movies.

As the clock ticked on I tried every trick in the book to get the mother to stay, but she saw through every one of them. Who was I kidding? I was acting just like any other little girl whose mother was going out without her. She'd probably seen the same behaviour a thousand times before and put it down to childish jealousy.

As the mother headed for the door I even hugged her leg, but she just talked to me again in that half patient, half annoyed voice and walked out. I noticed Darryl just looked from me to her and shrugged, all butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Darryl picked me up and carried me into the family room, placing me on the sofa in front of the television. "Don't worry sweetie, I'm not going to hurt you."

And he didn't, at least for one and a half movies. That's when he moved from his one seater chair to sit next to me on the couch.  I tried to pretend he wasn't there, and kept watching Toy Story then I heard him undo his zipper, and I stiffened.  When I looked over at him he was masturbating. I turned away, but had to turn back when he said. "Watch me Emmy, or I will tell your mummy that you were a bad girl. She'll be so angry she'll spank you."

It was a lesson in intimidating children and even though I wasn't worried about a spanking I could see how he could torture the real Emily Bowers with such crude methods. Hell, he had me jumping at shadows. I figured while he was happy playing with himself he'd leave me alone. It didn't last long. He left the room and returned with a digital camera then stripped me off and made me pose in a variety of disgusting ways. I remember that even my tears of shame didn't stop him.   If anything they spurred him on.

"Remember," he said when he allowed me to get dressed again. "If you tell anyone I will kill your mummy and then I'll kill you."

That weekend we went to Darryl's sisters house for a barbeque lunch and I was introduced to his family. As much as I wanted to hate them for simply being related to them I couldn't. His sister who told me to call her Aunty Kristy was a lovely woman, and her husband, Uncle David, seemed very nice too. They had two kids, a boy, Andrew, who was 10, and a girl, Justine, who was 7.  Justine at least went out of her way to make Emily feel at home.  I say Emily because she treated me as I appeared, a younger girl.  She took me to her bedroom and showed me all of her toys then plaited my hair and asked if I wanted to listen to one of her CDs.  It was later on, after we'd danced around to some bubble gum music that she looked me square in the eye and said, "Does Uncle Darryl touch you too?"

-oOOo-

As the days passed I found myself withdrawing more and more. I didn't want to play any games at school, and constantly got into trouble for not paying attention in class. Basic stuff that I should have been able to do with my brain tied behind my back seemed to escape me when a teacher asked a question. At home I was surly and uncooperative, wanting to spend more and more time in my room doing nothing. I tried to avoid Darryl as much as possible but it wasn't easy.

More and more at night he was coming into my room, always late when the mother was under the influence of her sleeping tablets. There was never any penetration, and I reasoned that it would make things too simple to prove, but if he wasn't playing with himself he was getting me to fondle him, or worse, fondling me. There was always some sort of intimidation and he usually turned it around to make it sound like it was my fault.

I also found I was more clingy around the mother, constantly standing near her and asking for cuddles and asking her to pick me up and carry me. "Honestly Emily, what has gotten into you lately?" The mother asked with an exasperated tone in her voice. "Half of the time you are being naughty and the other half you are the nicest little girl around."

Most alarming of all my behaviour were the black outs. I would lose little pieces of time here and there and when I came back into the land of the living I would normally find that I had ripped the arms, legs and head off a Barbie doll, or destroyed a different toy much to the mother's annoyance.  She put it down to normal childish bad behaviour.  One time when I came to after one of these black outs I found I had cut of a hunk of my hair with the plastic scissors that was in my craft kit, and yet another time I "awoke" to see blood dripping down my arm. Apparently I had got a hold of a cheese knife from the kitchen when the mother's back was turned, and had put a pretty sizeable slice in my left upper arm, a cut that needed 5 stiches at the local hospital and a pretty nasty tongue lashing from the mother.

-oOOo-

I counted down the days until Daryl would go back to work, and when it finally came I couldn't contain my good mood. Dressed in a little yellow sundress I played with the other children in the playground with unlimited glee. I ran, skipped, played on the swings and pretended to be a mummy with another girl as we pushed toy prams around the park, both of us cooing and clucking at our plastic babies. Sure it was banal but to me it meant that I was free of the fear and anger, for a while at least.

The first week was wonderful. I was able to concentrate in class and my teacher noticed that I was better behaved but as the weekend came my thoughts turned to Darryl's return and as each day passed I got more and more worried and distraught. I started wetting the bed every night and misbehaving more and more often.

On the day of his return I was really clingy to the mother again and hated the cuddle and kiss that Darryl gave me and the fact that he picked me up and carried me into the mother's bedroom, chatting happily as he unpacked his suitcase. I had no idea how so much hate, anger and shame could be packed into my small body.

I didn't sleep at night, until it finally crept up on me some time around 2 am. Three nights passed without him appearing at my door but I steeled myself for his next appearance. The mother was in 7th heaven again, having her man back at home and she went to great lengths to please him. Cooking him his favourite meals, dressing up in her best clothes and slapping on make up like it was going out of fashion. They say love is blind, and it sure as hell made the mother blind to what was going on under her nose.

The afternoon after his first night time visit since he got home the mother and Darryl were chatting away in the lounge room while I lay on the floor watching a children’s' movie on TV. "Emily?"

I turned to face the mother. 'What?" I snapped.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me young lady, or I’ll put you over my knee and smack your behind."  The mother said.

I'd been smacked a lot of times over the past few weeks. Real pants down, skirt up spankings, and each time left me feeling humiliated and sore, so I had leaned to toe the line for the most part. "Sorry Mummy." I said contritely.

"Darryl and I are going out to a nice restaurant tonight. Your Grandmother is going to baby-sit you at her house. We might be late so I'll pack a nightie for you and something for you to wear."

"Why are you going out?"  I asked, thinking it must be an anniversary or something.

A strange look passed between the two adults. "Shall we tell her?" The mother asked.

"Why not?"

The mother got up out of her chair and walked around to stand next to Darryl, who put his arm protectively around her waist. "It's great news."  She said with a grin that ran from ear to ear. "We’re going to have a new member of the family."

What did that mean?  She's buying a dog? Darryl's mother was moving in?

Then I saw his hand move and his patted the mother stomach and smiled proudly. "You're going to have a baby brother or sister."  He said.

-oOOo-

The Grandmother picked me up from the mother's house and drove me the 15 minutes journey back to her house. She was the same as the time I had seen her at the mall and the few times since, but I wasn't buying into her attempts to play games or sing nursery rhymes. The news from the mother and Darryl had rocked me to the core. The implications moved in rapid succession through my brain.  The first thing I thought of was that it meant that Darryl would be even more entrenched in the house and Emily's life, but the worst thought was what would happen if it was a little girl.  I didn't know where Emily's father was, but at least until Darryl and the mother were married I knew that Darryl had no real claim on me paternally.  But if I was his daughter I wouldn't be able to escape his deviant urges.

The Grandmother took me inside and placed my small backpack in a spare bedroom as she talked away, but I wasn't paying attention to her.

"Emily?" She said a little louder than normal.

"Huh?"

"You were miles away, weren't you honey?  I was asking what you wanted to eat."

"Whatever."

"Scrambled eggs on toast?"

Suddenly I burst into tears.

"Emily? What ever is the matter sweetie?"  She asked as she lifted me and held me to her bosom.

"Darryl touches me."  I blurted out without even thinking about it.

"Of course he does honey.  He's going to be your step daddy."

"No!"  I shouted, shocking her into giving me her full attention.  "He touches me down there.'"

I could feel her knees buckle slightly under her, but she regrouped and carried me back into the lounge room. Sitting she placed me on her lap and looked deeply into my eyes. "You know that it's very bad to lie about something like this don’t  you?"

"Ah ha."

"Okay, so tell me again.  What has been going on sweetie?"

So I told her.  Everything.  The nighttime visits, the touching, the photos and the threats.  When I was done I could see she was in tears just as I was.

She hugged me so tight I was worried about a rib breaking, and then pushed me back gently and looked at me again. "I believe you sweetie, and I want you to know you have done nothing wrong. You understand that don't you?"

I nodded.

"Darryl is a very bad man, but don't you worry about it.  You won't have to go back there until he's gone for good. Stay here okay?"

"Okay." I said, feeling both that a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders and also that some serious shit was going to go down.

The grandmother stood up and placed me on the sofa then walked out of the room, returning with a cordless phone. She dialled a number and waited for it to be answered. "Lorraine?  I'm sorry to interrupt your night honey, but I need you back here."  She paused for a while as the mother talked. "I know you're in the middle of eating, but you really need to come to my house. Is there a way you can come here without Darryl?"  Again she paused. "Look I can't discuss this over the phone Lori.  This is very important.  Lie if you have to, but get over here alone."  She rang off and looked at me with a look of pity and anger at the man who dared touch her granddaughter.

About three quarters of an hour later the mother arrived and the grandmother opened the door for her. "What on earth is going on Mum?"  The mother asked.

"Where is Darryl?"

"I told him that you were having a migraine, and that I had to come over here to look after you.  He wanted to come but I told him I might be here all night. Why?"

The Grandmother glanced furtively at me and then back to her daughter. "You'd better sit down."

"You’re scaring me mum.  Please tell me what’s going on." The mother said as she sat down across from me.

The grandmother sat next to me and took my hand gently in hers. "Tell your mother what you told me sweetie," she prodded.

Again I told my story, and I could see the mother shrink in her seat like a balloon slowly deflating. They say there are 5 stages of grief, and the mother went through denial at first, but as she constantly looked from me to her mother and back again she knew it was the truth. That's when the guilt hit her. I could see she was mentally berating herself for not seeing the warning signs there that were so easy to spot in hindsight.  When I was done telling my story she was well and truly into anger.

Grabbing the cordless phone she rang the police and reported it. Two young police officers turned up in about 15 minutes, and I told my story for the third time to a young female police officer who questioned me as gently and as caringly as possible. After half an hour they left saying they were heading straight to the mother's house to arrest Darryl.

They rang a little while afterwards to tell the mother he was in custody and denying the charges strenuously.  The Grandmother rang a locksmith and got all of the locks changed on the mother's house in case he was able to make bail. As an afterthought I told them about Justine and how he had done the same to her.

Over the next few days I learned that Darryl had made bail but there was a restraining order to stop him approaching the house, the mother and myself. We had some crank calls on the phone, and at one stage some one drove past the house and threw eggs at it. We found out later it was some of Darryl's friends who couldn't believe he'd do such terrible things to little girls.

-oOOo-

Life got better for me with Darryl off the scene, especially when I knew he was gone for good. When the mother's stomach didn't get bigger I guessed she'd had an abortion, and I couldn’t blame her for that.

A few months passed by before I had to give evidence in a court case. Justine had also told her story to the police, which made the case against Darryl stronger, but I was still as nervous as a kitten at a dog pound as I gave evidence in the court case. Luckily for me the judge allowed me to sit in another room and answer the questions through a closed circuit TV system so I didn't have to face Darryl in court. Another big help was having my mother and grandmother there with me every step of the way

When it was all over he received 10 years in jail, but a life sentence wouldn't have been enough for me. Somewhere, some time another little girl could come into Darryl's claws and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it.

As I look back on things I find it strange that becoming a little girl has made me a stronger person. This time I didn't curl up into a ball and take it like I had so many weeks ago with Mauler. This time I fought back. Maybe if I did that originally I wouldn't have had to go through all of this, but then that would have left the real Emily to deal with it.

I often think of her, and as I sat in court giving evidence it struck me what she had wished for on that Saturday morning so long ago. She didn't wish for her life to be different as I had.  Her life was so intolerable that she wished she didn't exist.

For a while I wanted to go and see my parents, Jason's parents that is, but Jason seems so long ago. A lifetime and a thousand evil deeds separate me from him. As I look to the future I have decided that despite the limitations of my age I want to embrace my new gender and learn to love the life of a girl. To the best way I can honour the real Emily Bowers is to be the real Emily Bowers and live her life to the full. After all, she never got that chance.

The End