"Emily, come here!"
Elliot heard his mother call him by the wrong name-again. He imagined refusing to answer until she said "Elliot" as he walked into the kitchen. His stomach twisted from nervousness as his mother shook her head. "Darling, get your hair out of that ridiculous bun. It makes you look like a boy." Elliot wrung his hands. "B-but, Mom, I am a-" He was cut off by his mother holding up a hand and glaring. "That's what I want to talk about." She said, smoothing her floral dress. "We need to end this dumb 'transgender' phase." Elliot clenched his hands into fists, mind racing with a million possibilities. His mother stomped over to him and tore the ponytail holder out of his hair, letting his long hair tumble past his shoulders. "Mom-" he started, but was once again cut off by a sharp glance. "You look beautiful with your hair down." She chided him. "Like me, eh? With the black hair? But yours is longer." She chuckled, flipping her shoulder-length hair slightly. Elliot took a few deep breaths. He liked to keep his hair in a bun. Much more masculine-looking than a ponytail would. "Now, Emily. Your father and I have been talking, and we think we know just the place to fix you up!" She picked up a white and blue pamphlet with a golden cross printed on it. In fancy blue script across the top was "Light of Christ Correction Camp". Elliot didn't like the look of it. It sounded very religious. "But, Mom. Don't you think God would still love me if I made my body look like a boy's?" He asked. "Honey, why would you want that? You're a girl." His mother said sharply. "Anyhow, He made you exactly the way He wanted you to be." Opening the pamphlet, his mother pointed out a couple of pictures of kids by a fire pit and playing soccer. "See? It looks fun! You get to do activities and make new friends in an environment that will help you realize that you're just confused." She ruffled Elliot's hair, and he made a sour face. "Don't make that face, young lady. We've already decided that you're going." He felt his palms start to sweat. "Please, I'll be nervous and I won't know anybody and I'm not confused. I am a boy! I won't do well in that camp." His mother pointed down the hallway. "Don't argue with me. Your father and I have already paid for it, and this place isn't cheap. We think that it's best for you. Now, go to your room." She said coolly. Elliot huffed in frustration as he felt tears prick his eyes. Turning on his heel, he stormed back to his room, putting his hair back up in a bun.