"You have to walk more feminine. Again, from the starting point! " My personal mentor's voice echoed throughout the hall as I dragged my heavy feet up the 20 flight of stairs.
Placing my hands delicately on the steel railing as if they would break from my touch, I took one step at a time down to the platform where he was standing waving his baton "You have to walk more feminine. Again, from the starting point! " My personal mentor's voice echoed throughout the hall as I dragged my heavy feet up the 20 flight of stairs.
Placing my hands delicately on the steel railing as if they would break from my touch, I took one step at a time down to the platform where he was standing waving his baton and analysing my every move.
"Chin up! Shoulder up and a smile has to be plastered on your face! Suck in your stomach!" countless instructions boomed through the hall as I tried to follow each one of them.
But I failed, yet again.
"From the starting point! "
My mind was filled with opposing thoughts. I wanted to stand against this; voice against this ugly and crimeful deed but I had no say in this.
For the hundredth time today, I climbed up the stairs with great struggle. I couldn't feel my anymore. I was wearing a 6 inch heel and it's a great challenge for me to walk in.
"Head up, flaunt your smile and put your chest up! " once again, my instructor commanded.
I obeyed, smiling through the pain and agony.
"Good. Now, let's see how much you have improved in your vocal lessons. " He exclaimed as he motioned me to follow him inside the ballroom.
They wanted to change my vocal cords. They wanted a high pitched voice, a feminine voice that could attract people of my gender like honey attracts bees.
With every note of the piano, I strained my voice as much as I could to present him his expected sound which was foreign to me.
I felt like dying inside. Is this really the faith that the heaven has laid down for me? Is this the reason why I was not born this way?
"Strain your voice more than enough! Then you can bring out that voice! Dear, your voice is already sweet and charming as it is, if you try a little harder you can change it into a feminine version, which is required. I know you are capable of anything."
My mentor encouraged but that only added to my burden. If I do not change my vocal cords within 30 days, I'll be locked in the dungeon forever. I dread that. I won't let that happen.
Forcing a smile through pain I begun my vocal practice which lasted for the next 2 hours.
I always have to speak softly in a higher pitch if anyone ask me anything. After all, everything in this house is modified to blend in with the practice and lessons that I'm taking. Even our maids have been the old and trustworthy ones who have been working for the past generations so that this top secret doesn't get spilled anywhere.
I was Dashielle Park until last year when they renamed me Neriah Daphne Park. I'm 12 years old and unlike kids of my age, I'm home home schooled and has a vigorous training to change my overall gender. In fact, the training has become my shadow. It has become inseparable with me.
My mentor's eyes would sometimes gleam with tears, much to my confusion. He would try to hide it but my eyes always knew that those tears were calling out to me, wanting to tell me something. Was he tired of being chained with this training for the past 11 years? Or was he feeling sorry for me? I could never fathom.
Or were they trying to motivate me?
"You are born this way. This is the purpose of your existence - to keep the respect of this household even if you have to betray your self, even your true self. Understand? " my grandfather would tell me.
My grandfather is the most successful businessman in the country and is looked up upon by everyone, rich and poor alike.
I should be proud to say this but not even a slight spark of pride and joy ignited in my heart. Ironically, I feel like it's a crime to ever take pride in him. I feel ashamed to call him my grandfather.
My grandfather,Daniel Park, is the CEO of the DP Enterprise which deals in iron and steel company and conglomerate. He had married my grandmother, the most famous and high paid actress of her time internationally, loaded with money and property. Both of them got married for the greed of each other's possessions. Together they had 5 kids, two girls and three boys. My father is their second son.
As the eldest son died unmarried, my father comes first in term of inheritance. But, unfortunately, my father didn't want me to inherit his possessions in the future. He didn't want to have a son. This was strictly agreed with my grandfather.
It was all my mother's effort for me getting a proper name regarding my true gender. My father wanted a daughter who could marry a rich and well flourished businessman who could provide them with a greater name and expand his company. He wanted to earn name and game and for that, he decided to change my gender identity.
My mother was against it but she was not allowed to speak a word. She would cry and beg my father to stop but all that she would get was whippings and injuries from my selfish and drunkard father. She would sit by my side at night and cry.
My hair was let to be grown till my waist, nails were painted and manicured every week, my face was pampered daily by the maids with products that sometimes gave off pungent smell and sometimes refreshing, my diet was taken care of by a special dietician and my clothes were all gowns and frocks, tops and skirts, all the girlish accessories and my shoes were in no different condition. They were all sandals and high heels. Loads if makeup and skincare products sat at the vanity table across my king sized bed covered with peach pink sheets.
In fact my room was decorated with baby pink shades. I didn't like it. I want to go out, play with boys of my age and kick footballs and pass around basketballs in the courts. I want to go hunting and dip myself in the mud and dirt with friends, whom I cannot imagine ever having in this lifetime. I want to be liberated but once a decision is settled by my grandfather, there can be no change, even if it's for his profit.
This is the 'purpose of my life' and I'll have to live this way till I die? Then why did I have to be born this way? Why did the heaven gave me this body if this was their plan? Will I be this miserable and misfortunate? Forever?
I get jealous watching my cousin brother play together, with all their might, running around and shouting, without caring whether their gait is graceful enough or not, without caring if they get dirty or without caring if their voice is not high pitched enough. They are like birds, free to do whatever they want, not forced to live a different persona.
I hope, at least, a day will come, when there will be someone or something that will liberate me from this ugly reality. All I can do is wait like those princesses they narrated to me every night since I was baby, wait for their prince Charming who could save them from their dark reality. I don't care if my saviour comes in the form of an object or person . I just need liberation.
But will there be anyone who is courageous enough to give me a new life?
*~~~~*
So guys, this was the prologue! What do you think so far? Do you think Dashielle should go against his grandparent and father? What di you think is holding him back from retaliating? Will he ever find something or someone worthy to fight for?
Continue reading to find out!
