“I want a fag,” I whine. I hate whining but it always happens when I don’t feel well. You glare at me. The kind that says ‘do it and your bott...m will pay’. I do it. I want a fag. Opening the tin I pull out the papers and quickly roll before you can stop me again. I put the finished rolly between my lips and reach for the lighter. You don’t stop me. I know that I am disobeying you, you know that I know. I light the fag, inhale and wince as my throat screams in protest. I won’t put it out though,. I'd never felt so alive. I turned on the cold water in the shower in an attempt to shake myselfout of my reverie. Daydreaming wasn't going to accomplish anything. Alone thought kept popping into my head. Perhaps it was time to put awaythoughts of actually becoming "Joan". My new responsibilities were ofenormous proportions and I wasn't sure that being "Joan" was in theirbest interests. Could I be that selfless even if it was true? I finally calmed myself down when I realized something. My. More

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