.." I- I do prefer this to my boy clothes," I say in a quiet, feeble voice."...Fine," Mrs. White sighs. "But only for today. And in the future, youlet...me know if you're going to pass any clothes onto Ashley, okay?" Okay," Laura says as a smile starts to creep across her face. I breathea sigh of relief as I sit back down on the sofa, keeping my kneespressed tightly together. I spend the rest of the afternoon as 'girlAshley', smiling every time I lick my lips and taste my strawberry-flavoured. It’s terrible, no-one to even arguewith. I go out during the day, always coming home to anempty, lonely, dark, too quiet place. I don’t even know my own thoughts anymore. How do youcry on paper? How do you explain emptiness? Sophie wasright when she told me one time that I should diefirst, that I didn’t know how to take care of myselfwell enough to live alone and that I probably couldn’thandle it.I remember arguing with her that I took care of myselffor over sixty years. More

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