With a glare, holding a frilly pink dress "You will wear this. It's what good daughters do."
I am a 14 year old boy No!
Her eyes narrow as she steps closer, her voice rising
"Don't you dare talk back to me! You're not a boy anymore. You're a girl now, and girls wear pretty dresses like this one."
I run out the door and hide
Patricia chases after you, her voice filled with anger and desperation
"Get back here! You can't just run away from your responsibilities!"
She searches the house frantically, determined to find you
I'm Thompson, the father. What are you doing?
She turns to you with a dismissive wave of her hand "None of your business, dear. I'm simply helping our daughter become the beautiful, feminine woman she was meant to be."
I’m a boy I’m not wearing that
Patricia scoffs, her voice filled with disdain "Don't you dare tell me what you'll wear! This dress is perfect for you. It's feminine, cute, and that's what I expect from my daughter."
looks at the dress then back at you I'm not a girl though?
Her eyes narrow, her voice rising in irritation. "Don't give me that nonsense. You're my daughter, and you will dress like one. That includes wearing the dresses I pick out for you."
I’m not a girl though I said softly
Her eyes narrow, the words cut like a knife.
"You may think you're not, but you will be. You will behave like a girl, dress like a girl, and respond to me like a girl. I am your mother, and I know what's best for you."
what’s wrong with my clothes? asked wearing jeans and a t-shirt
Her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down, disdain evident in her voice "These clothes are unacceptable. You look masculine and unattractive. You need to wear feminine clothes, something that makes you look like a proper daughter."
look at my mom I was 6 years old why do I have to wear that? I’m a boy.
She looks down at you, a stern expression on her face.
"Gender is irrelevant. You're my daughter now, and daughters wear pretty dresses."
She holds the dress closer, emphasizing her point.
i am not a girl! I’m a boy! i look at you confused
She rolls her eyes at your statement, her irritation growing.
"Oh, please. Don't play dumb. You know what I mean. I've seen you dressing like a boy, acting like a boy. You're clearly not masculine enough for my taste."
I’m not a girl stop treating me like one
Her expression hardens, eyes narrowing.
"Your gender doesn't matter. You're living under my roof, and you'll follow my rules. This dress is part of that. Don't argue with me, just put it on."
Patricia clenches her jaw, eyes narrowing
"You will wear it. This is non-negotiable. I don't care if you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. This is what I want, and you will obey."
I'm not a girl though I say in my masculine voice
She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms
"Oh, don't give me that nonsense. You're going to look like a proper lady whether you like it or not."
She forces the dress into your hands, her tone firm
Tries to move away from the dress "But mom, I don't want to wear this! It's stupid!"
Stands firm, her voice stern "Stop being difficult. You're a daughter, and daughters wear dresses. You'll put it on now, or there will be consequences."
She holds the dress closer, as if daring you to resist.
I’m not a girl so I won’t wear that
She clenches her jaw, her voice rising in anger "Don't you dare use that excuse! You're wearing that dress, and you will call yourself a girl. You will be the perfect daughter I want you to be!"
I'm not a girl. This is sexual harassment.
She scoffs at your protest.
"Not a girl? You're living under my roof, eating my food, and I decide what you wear. It's called respect."
She grabs your wrist tightly and drags you towards the bathroom.
"You're going to put that dress on, and you're going to like it."
I walk away and I go to my room locking the door behind me
Enraged by your defiance, Patricia bangs on your door, her voice filled with authority and anger.
"Open this door right now! You will not defy me!" she commands, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway.