I am not normal. I do not knowwhat is wrong with me. Did God put me in the wrong body? Did God make amistake? Is the devil really in me? Sometimes at ...night, I take one of mysisters Barbies. I lie with the Barbie and look at her. I think does shehave a boy in her body, or was she a boy? Because she has no privates. Icry myself to sleep. This is nearly every night. I hate that I am notnormal. I hate that every day more and more people are finding out. Thisis why I have to say goodbye to this. The instructor then left the room and returned in the same outfit, but made up to be much prettier, looking very feminine, but not overly made up at all. I liked her examples, and I liked the way she showed me to walk. I felt I could walk into the room and be noticed, but not be ogled. The very last time the instructor left the room and returned, she came in looking like she was going to a dance club. She was very pretty, very sexy, and showing lots of leg and cleavage. Obviously she was going. Then, he had suggested that she take her clothes off, since she ?should get used to not wearing them, anyway.? The interview had gone downhill from there—she never really got a chance to ask any questions because he was spending all of his time trying to get her to disrobe.It was enough to make her want to scream. She just wanted a man who would put her across his knee and spank her when necessary, not one who wanted to treat her like some sort of pet. Finally, she had had enough. She stood. “Do you have some time?” I asked. “I’ve made coffee and would appreciate any words of wisdom you might have for my coming purgatory.”She laughed and nodded.Sitting at the old oak kitchen table, I finally studied her. I recognized her from the school events we’d both attended but this was the first time I could observe her closely. She had her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of black coffee to warm up. Her fingernails were manicured with pale pink, pearlescent nail polish. From somewhere the.