Mitchell loved his cabin.
Cabin 10 was various soft shades of pink, decorated with lavish florals and lace. It was the epitome of pastel aesthetic, and sometimes he would spend his free time just looking at it, taking in the beauty. He was mesmerized by it.
It was full of enchantments too.
The moment you walked in, a rush of happiness would wash over you. Several faint perfume scents lingered in the air. The ornate mirrors showed who you really were, who you wanted to be, not who was looking into them.
Mitchell loved the mirrors.
When he gazed into the mirror, he was entranced by his reflection. Because he was no longer Mitchell, no longer a he. He became Michelle, a she.
She was beautiful, Michelle was. Her hair was shoulder length, a light brown colour. Her eyes were deep green, lined with khol. She wore scarlet lipstick and sundresses. She was classy and gorgeous and most of all, she was a girl.
That was what Mitchell wanted. That was who Mitchell was.
Before, he'd questioned himself. He felt feminine. He liked boys. Was he gay? Another thing to add to his burdened mind.
The water was cruel and unforgiving. The water displayed the world's mistake, a boy. Mitchell would look into the water to see short, cropped hair, a masculine jaw, a flat chest and muscled arms. The water showed a girl who was trapped behind her own body, a girl who was waiting to resurface. The water hid Michelle from sight, showing only Mitchell in it's ripples. It showed a biological boy who was close to taking his own life, because a boy could never truly be a girl, and a girl could never truly be a boy.
One summer, Mitchell confessed to his siblings.
"I don't see a boy when I look in the mirror. I see a girl."
Mitchell loved his cabin even more after that.
Smiles and hugs of reassurance pushed the dark thoughts out of his head. Transitioning began with injections and needles and terror, but it was worth it in the end.
Once upon a time, Mitchell had gazed into an ordinary mirror and cried, his reflection betraying him. He'd pushed down the feminine instincts and played sports, built muscles, trying to be masculine. His passions faded, and his will to live faded along with it.
But nowadays she looked into ordinary mirrors and smiled, red lipstick on her lips, her eyes lined with brown pencil, in sundresses and earrings and high heels. Her body curved in at the waist and out at the hips. Her hair was styled differently every day - maybe a braid, maybe curled, maybe just plain.
Her passions returned. She went shopping with her sisters, talked about boys (her sexuality crisis disappearing after her transition), wore makeup for fun and flirted freely. She was stereotypically feminine, but that was what she wanted, and Michelle had never been happier.
That year, the bead for the camp necklace featured a little man outlined in blue, with the shape of a female in pink on the inside, dedicated to one of the hardest battles that anyone could ever fight.
A battle with their own identity.
Michelle, daughter of Aphrodite, had won her battle at last.
In case any of you were wondering, I've seen a lot of trans posts on tumblr where people are finally starting to realise that trans is a thing and it's perfectly normal, so I feel like we need to start introducing transgender characters to our literature.
Last thing, if anybody is looking for a diverse, feminist book with trans inclusive characters, lgtbq+ characters and poc characters, I would recommend Beauty Queens by Libba Bray. Okay, Kacie out!