She probably would have tried to resurrect my body and then kill me all over again for it. It would have solved some problems though, first off I would have been dead, and I wouldn't have to face my sister's wrath when she found I had tried on her clothes. My heart was pounding, it felt like it was going to burst from my chest in a similar style to the Alien Quadrilogy. I remember that exact feeling when I was hiding from my sister. I immediately jumped into the wardrobe, and closed the door behind me.
I was going to be found and instantly my mind told me to hide. I still hadn't changed out of Katie's dress and my clothes were strewn over the floor. When I found that my sister returned the first thing that went through my mind was a close resemblance of the words "oh crap" ran through my mind. I don't know why my parents named me Rain, it wasn't to do with the weather, I was born on Saturday October 20th, 1990, and according to my parents and sister it was a sweltering hot day so how Rain came into the conversation is a mystery. My sister is Katie Elizabeth Edmonds and my mother and father are called Rebecca and John Edmonds respectively. Someone stepped inside, and I was unaware who it was until I Katie shout up to me.
I was going to take the dress and hang it back up to try on another item of my sister's clothing when I heard the door open. I still looked like a little boy trying on adult clothes though, I had short brown hair back then, my parents choosing my hair cuts and how I looked for my time at school. I felt the satin against my skin, and I liked it. My green eyes staring at the figure in the oversized dress. I looked at myself in the mirror that was placed on the inside of the door. It didn't even need to unbutton the back of the dress. It didn't matter to me at the time I simply stripped to my underwear and slipped the dress on over me. Now on Katie, it would have went down to her ankles, but when I tried it on, it went down to the floor, and even bunched up leaving a small tail of fabric. She had a ankle length purple dress with straps. When my parents and Katie had gone out, leaving me alone, I went into her room, and opened up Katie's wardrobe. Coincidently, it was also the same day I started trying on girl's clothing. It was proved right when I was first caught by her. I always believed that Katie had some sort of second sight for these things. My sister was a bit of a neat freak, everything was out of place, and it was rumoured that she could see from first glance whether or not something was out of place. I opened it up, and was stunned to see everything hanging up so neatly. Her room was painted a cream colour, very few posters decorated the walls, shelves were filled with books and not dolls, and she had a large wardrobe up against the wall. At the time my sister was sixteen and going through her GCSE's. Pink, filled with girly things ranging from dolls to make up to posters of boy bands and actors. When I entered my sister's room, I had an idea of what it would be like. I didn't have any idea about the culture that followed it, I didn't know that men and women dressed in clothing of the opposite gender as a lifestyle choice, I would find that out much later in my life. At the time, when life seemed simple, I only saw it to be innocent curiosity that drove me to try on my sister's clothes. I didn't really care at the time, I didn't know what kind of effects it would have on my future. Many would have found it weird, an eleven year old boy wanting to try on girls clothing. I had freedom of the house, and since my fascination started, I had only wanted to do one thing: try on my sister's clothing. There were times when I was left on my own in the house my parents were either at work or out for the afternoon, and my sister was visiting her friends. It looked nicer, and when I hugged Katie, her clothes felt nicer against my skin, a lot nicer. I remember watching my older sister Katie walk around in skirts, dresses, blouses, all clothing that was infinitely better than anything I wore. It started when I was eleven years old, my fascination for girl's clothing and crossdressing that is. I shall leave you, the reader, to make up your own mind.) While I try to write an unbiased entry of my life, some of what I have written might sound biased. While it might seem to be a far-fetched account, what you read is true. (Author's note: I am writing this at the age of 27, on Monday 26th March, 2018.