Dear my stars

第5話Akio and Ami

My sister and brother didn’t try to see my face even though I met them for the first time in twenty years.

I got mourning because I received the death of my mother, but that may have been disturbing for them.

I also felt embarrassed and turned away from their faces and walked through the floor even during the funeral.

I understand their point, but I can’t do anything wrong.

I have two names.

One is Akio.

I got it from real parents who don’t even remember their face, and I used it unified through public and private use until 18 years old.

The other is Ami.

I secretly named it and I’m presently giving in.

The name of a man and a woman, both of which I have because I’m a sexually disabled person.

Even if I say obstacle, if I’m not dissatisfied with five or late development of wisdom isn’t delayed.

A part from not being consistent in mind and body sex, I’m not as good as saying a healthy person.

But the only difference I had was hard.

At that time, there were no people in the surroundings who understood this fact.

Even my real parents treated me as a heretic and deposited me in a child care facility in order to rectify me.

I don’t remember when it was.

Naturally, my mind didn’t become a man or my body become a woman when I left me at the facility.

The facility teachers tried to look at me as an ordinary single child, but they were puzzled whether to treat me as either a boy or a girl.

I didn’t know what to do with myself, I avoided everyone in the facility before I know it, and started to look like I didn’t show my face.

When eventually getting used to an isolated life, a man came to the facility.

He was my first foster father.

I forgot his name, but his face was as good and refreshing as it was.

“Hey, Akio. Let’s go!”

His hands seemed good as well, and I was handed to him, and I headed for a new house.

But he and I, the days of hell began at the same time as the living alone.

His eyes changed when I was taken over and three days passed.

He was kind at noon, but naked me at night, he didn’t even allow me to wear underwear.

I was touched around the body, especially the hand touching the buttocks and crotch was persistent.

“Because Akio is a girl only in heart, it isn’t a bad feeling even if you were touched by a cool father, do you?”

Every night he said the same with a rough breath.

It was not my body that I was touched-I’m a woman-,but I was scared and could not answer anything.

To make it good, his words didn’t stop.

However, when that act lasted for about a month, he stopped saying words that had been repeated until then.

Instead, he began to emphasize my sex.

He treated my penis with his finger and gave each one of his impressions.

“Small, cute.”

He also had me touch a big penis.

At first, I thought he was making fun of children like me or being kidding.

But he didn’t like that, he liked a young boy.

In order to satisfy his greed, he took me out of a boy’s figure.

I was told that so, I was shocked.

I was not miserable, but only this body was seen.

It’s neither discrimination nor prejudice.

However, I thought that his toy was more severe than that, I got goose bumps like never before and started to feel nauseated.

Fear overlapped, with fear, and I finally ran away.

Morning that day, I carried a black school bag and pretended to go to school.

He looked at me with a refreshing daytime face.

It was a white smile.

I hid myself in the public toilet of the park till the school time passed and when the signs of the elementary school students ceased to exist, I jumped out of the private room in the toilet.

Depending on the memory of the day I left the child care facility, I reached the facility over a day.

On that night the facility teacher informed the police and the man who didn’t want to call father again was arrested for suspicion of child abuse and obscene acts.

Six months after the end of the daily routine of hell, I was taken over by a couple in their 40s while my heart’s wounds were not healed.

This time it was that there was also a foster mother so it would be all right.

But the couple betrayed their expectations and trust soon.

The woman who was foster mother just looked at me with eyes seeing smelly things, she didn’t care about me at all.

Her husband hit my ass and penis with a flat or some sort of plate.

Even though I cried with pain in my body, he simply stopped violence by ridicule.

There seemed to be no conversation between the couple at all, she pretended not to see her husband’s acts.

Scared! Scared! Scared!

As a lemon juice got stuck in a cut, the scar of my heart broke out suddenly.

I don’t know what to do any more!

Again, I pretended to go to elementary school again and ran away.

After wards when I nested from the facility I became foster rather than adoptive parents, but again the past hell only resurrected.

When crying, I escape to the facility, and when I’m taken over, I’m crouched by foster parents.

This repetition continued until I was in the fourth grade of elementary school, and the real parents finally didn’t pick me up.

I was scared of men, of course, even women, trying not to keep my eyes on each other.

If I don’t show my face, I can only be recognized as a simple boy if I don’t speak.

Like a moon that only shows the surface with craters.

I’m reluctant to be judged sex by appearance, but that was the only way to protect myself with oneself.

At that time, the last foster mother came to the facility.

Her name is Ikuko Tsutsumi.

She never married but raised an adopted daugher by herself, I heard that the facility teachers are talking.

She was in the same facility as me two years ago.

However, I have never talked with children in the facility until now, and I was not aware of her as I was going back and forth between the facility and other house.

It’s said that her foster mother told that she would like me to take over.

She went to the facility for three months, sometimes with her daughter, who later became my older sister, but I was cautiously hiding behind the trees in the outdoor playground.

This person is the same as the other people so far.

Although I had decided in such a way, when I entered the third month, I suddenly began to think that this woman would be a real mother.

I couldn’t see “the mask” of a good woman for her.

Still I couldn’t believe my intuition and I tried to show her a disappointing figure.

She didn’t startle with nor ridiculed, just shed tears down.

In order to make sure that it wasn’t acting, I let my face down and handed a handkerchief to her.

She gently accepted a handkerchief with a trembling hand.

After that, the foster mother paid me deeper love beyond the amount of tears she shed.

However, discipline was severe, my heart and body didn’t match, but I wasn’t touched by myself nor sympathized at all.

She occasionally saw me as it was, secretly keeping up with my sister who was making an objection, and buying the clothes of my favorite color.

To such a woman, I couldn’t show a smile until the very end, nor could I reveal my heart.

That is why I couldn’t wipe away past hell, but that wasn’t the only reason.

When I entered junior high school I had to wear a man’s uniform and follow my school regulations to make my head a shudder.

In addition to that, I became to revolve with disgust with my internal and external change such as voice change and growth period.

From the beginning my body wasn’t getting away from the original ideal day by day.

Niches and tears didn’t stop in places where I exposed the penis, such as bathroom and toilet.

When I go to school, I envy the girl’s singing voice in the music class, and in the rest time the obscene conversation that the boy talks to enters into my ears and I got angry.

I only thought once to consult the negative emotions that dominated me, with my foster mother, but I couldn’t do that.

Because she isn’t a sexually disabled person.

Even though she doesn’t have prejudice on myself , it’s absolutely impossible for her to understand everything that she is a woman, both mind and body.

I didn’t have any friends, I couldn’t consult other people.

I was swallowed by the swirl of suffering and I couldn’t bear, I left home at the age of 18.

After that I worked as part-time as Akio in the daytime and worked at the show-pub of shemale as Ami at night and spent 20 generations.

When I was thirty years old, I founded a company for people in the same position as myself.

Besides experienced show-pubs, bars and staff’s aesthetically pleasing beauty salons are the main types of industry.

At a consultation window recently established, people with the same troubles as myself are constantly following.

To the end I’m a small and medium-sized company that I run as president, but somehow I can make a profit because the staff will work hard for those of the same position.

Since I was an adult, I was blessed with my colleagues.

But two tremendously big troubles didn’t release me until today.

One is about my body.

Even when I’m 38 years old, my body isn’t what I want.

In other words, that I’m a male body.

I could afford some economic margin in by working, but I still can’t take a step into the transsexuality.

I headed to the special hospital many times.

Every time I saw a sign, I returned my heel.

The foster mother was worried after I left the house, before and after going to the hospital and three days of the day, her face floated on my mind and didn’t leave.

She bought up this body I was thirsty for changing for eight years until 18 years of age.

She must be saddened by scratching the body.

I noticed that I was a woman only with equipment such as makeup and clothes.

Without exception in her funeral, I wore a one-piece mourning.

And the other worry is a wound in the heart that I don’t know about healing.

I was torn by men when I was a child, so I have never fallen in love.

I couldn’t feel like “love.”

In my school days, I didn’t try to get involved as much as possible, no matter how cool a boy there was to avoid discrimination among students.

Also, I didn’t even care that I would be involved with him.

Because I knew that men’s actual condition doesn’t change much for children and adults.

Nevertheless, once I go out to society, whatever the reason, my selfishness never goes through.

I endure cold sweats at work and endure it, but I’m scared of meeting eyes with men.

I don’t feel resistance to young boys and people in the same position as myself.

Even so, there’s a muscle which the voice is low and it’s frustrating, merely a man called a man in the mind and body is in front of my eyes, my body becomes hard like a rock and becomes heavy.

If my body was a girl, I might not have been abused.

Or, if my heart was also a boy, I didn’t feel sorry for my foster mother, nor did I disfigure my sister and brother’s mind.

Even if the sexes were consistent, I would not have been deposited in the facility in the first place!

A disappointing figure gradually changed my suffering into hatred and I began to demand death for me.

I sometimes clashed the kitchen knife and I also aimed at my penis several times.

I have to do even this!

No, either man or woman doesn’t care.

Once I become a star, I want to redo my life with the figure of mind and body matching!

But due to the cowardice heart, the cutting edge never touched my skin until today.

--Mommy.

I wondered what I was worried about, and for my sister and brother who couldn’t hold hands, I wonder what mind left you this letter.