For convenience and reader ease, all conversations are translated in English.
Ciwalen, Jawa, Indonesia
"Hey Cary, wait up!"
Hearing my best friend Fariz's voice I halted in my stride, so he could catch up and we could go together to school, which was still at least another kilometer away. As he caught up with me he said: "Did you hear about Rino?"
Rino was another friend of us; he caught MORFS a week earlier. I shook my head, "No what happened?"
"He was taken away by some government people. I heard he got some monkey traits."
Now it made sense. The laws where I live are very strict against MORFS survivors with animal traits. Indonesia isn't a pleasant place to live in these days, if you happen to be a MORFS survivor or a female. It wasn't quite Sharia law, but it came very close.
Fariz asked, "What do you think; they will do to him?"
"I don't know, I hope he'll be okay. Do you think we'll ever see him again?"
Fariz shrugged, "Don't know, I hope so."
Then we walked past a group of giggling girls dressed in their long skirts and wearing their Hijaabs. I felt sorry for them having to wear those clothes, I liked seeing girls with long hair. I even wanted to grow it myself, but boys are expected to have short hair. Arriving at the school building we went in with all the other boys, while the girls had their own entrance. There were no mixed classes anymore. And all the teachers were male, female teachers were not allowed. Well, I think there were some teaching the girls, but not many.
After being rigorously drilled with all the knowledge they wanted us to have, we were free to go home early as it was Friday. I had gotten a bit of a headache at school. I blamed it on the forced teaching methods they used. Fariz complained about that a lot as well. Even as we walked back home he complained why we couldn't study more like they did in other countries. He had an older brother that studied in Europe, so he knew about things there. There was still one good thing though; we were required to study English. Though the language is used by the hated countries like America and England, it is one of the most used languages worldwide. So we had to learn it. Still I never quite understood why the government said that they are hated countries.
This being Friday meant we had to get home quickly and get ready to go to the mosque. My family wasn't Muslim, but we had to pretend we were. Several years ago all the Christian churches, Hindu and Buddhist temples were burned down to the ground or leveled. Now everyone had to go to a mosque, or be declared a heretic and be subject to 'Re-education'. I didn't even want to know what that meant.
"Mom, I'm home."
She came out of the kitchen were she had been cooking something for tonight. "Hi son, how was school?"
"Oh, okay. It just gave me a headache. Can I be excused from going to the mosque?"
Mom sighed, "Don't you wish, I don't like going there as well, but you do know some bad people will tell on us if we don't go."
I made a face, "I don't understand why we have to pretend to be Muslim. We're Christian aren't we?"
Mom hugged me, "Yes we are, but the religious rulers have too much influence on the government, so they have been able to ban all other religions from the country."
Then she looked at me, "Now you have just enough time to wash up and put on decent clothes before we have to go, your father will meet us there."
Quickly I ran to the bathroom and splashed some water over me. Mom had laid out the clothes I needed to wear on my bed, they were made from fine cloth, but I still didn't like wearing them. I hated even more all the wasted time being in a mosque listening to some religion that I didn't want to know.
Moments later we were walking towards the mosque, with mom wearing her burqa, as was prescribed by law. She was so beautiful and had to cover it all up. They said that if she wouldn't do so, it was like she was offering herself to men. I really hated those laws here.
We were almost at our destination when I started to feel queasy. I wanted to alert mom, but then I felt so nauseous that I ran to the side of the road and threw up violently. Mom was really concerned and felt my forehead. "You have a fever, I guess you did have a legitimate reason for wanting to be excused."
I didn't answer, I just kept throwing up some more. Mom talked to someone, saying that she was going to take me back home. We couldn't go to the doctor's office yet, as he was most likely inside the mosque himself.
After we got back home I first had to go to the toilet, then I crawled into bed feeling like crap. Mom soon came into my room and took my left index finger. I felt a little prick and looked with blurry vision at it. She was getting some blood on some sort of device. In my confused mind I didn't even recognize what it was. Then my mom saw the result on it and said to me, "I'm sorry honey, but you have MORFS."
Now I got really worried, would I be taken from my house by government people? What would happen to me after I morfed? "Mom? What is going to happen to me?"
Mom shushed me, "Nothing is going to happen, you're just going to be sick for a while, after that everything will be okay again."
I was about to scream out that it wouldn't when seemingly out of nowhere she produced a home transition pack and inserted the needle expertly into my arm. The sleeping drugs soon knocked me out and I fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
Diah Sumanti looked at her young son laying unconscious in his bed. She worried about his future. She knew that in this country MORFS survivors rarely got a chance to pick up their lives again. With even a hint of animal DNA spliced into their bodies, the survivor was taken away and never heard from again. There were rumors that they were being experimented on or that they were re-educated to serve as slave soldiers.
"Diah? What happened, I heard you excused yourself and Cary from the service." Gus entered his house coming home from the mosque.
"Oh Gus, Cary got sick on the way, I already checked his condition. He has MORFS. At the moment he is out of it on his bed. I put the transition pack we had here on him. I hope everything will be all right. I don't want to lose our only son."
Gus Sumanti looked at his wife with a serious face. "The odds are against it, there is almost no MORFS survivor that I know off still living here. Still there is nothing we can do but wait till the changes are finished."
I woke up feeling fine, a bit odd, but fine. I noticed something on my arm, which made a slight beeping noise before falling off. That must be the home transition pack falling off, so I must be finished with my changes. I was hesitant to see what MORFS had done to me. Would I be fearful for my life now? Or was I going to be able to pick up right where I left off? I wanted to stay in bed and not know what had happened to me, but I smelled and I had a pressing need to take care of, so I forced myself to get up.
As I pulled away the sheet covering me I got to see the first changes. I was taller, and then I noticed that there was something missing in my briefs. Quickly I dashed into the bathroom and undressed completely. I nearly screamed confirming what I feared. I was a girl now. I now had a vagina and breasts, though they were hardly noticeable. I could easily pass for a boy if I dressed like one. Then I noticed another change, I now had very long luxurious black hair hanging all the way to my waist. I wondered how I could have missed the weight before. I admired it and looked at it in the mirror from all sides. I really like having such nice long hair. Too bad I had to become a girl to get it.
After taking care of business and showering, I wrapped a towel around myself and wondered how I was going to dry all this long hair. My thoughts got interrupted by a knock on the door and mom asking, "Can I come in Cary?"
I opened the door for her and looked her straight in the eyes. I really was a lot taller now. "Hi mom, I really have changed quite a bit haven't I?"
"Yes you have honey, but you're still our child, so I don't care much."
I asked with hope, "If I dress like a boy, I can still look like one. Can I stay a boy in registration?"
Mom sadly shook her head, "Sorry, but the transition pack refills are registered. So we have to go to a MORFS center to register you as having gone through MORFS. And they will find out your new gender there. I'm sorry but you'll have to dress like a girl soon. And you'll have to change classes at school as well."
My face fell, I realized that now I had to go into the other entrance and join classes with the girls.
Mom saw the face I made and said, "But we can cut off that long hair of yours, so it won't be a bother to you."
I recoiled, "No mom, don't cut that off. It is the only thing I like about the new me."
Mom smiled, I guess she knew how I felt about that. She had nice long hair as well but could only show it inside the house. I shuddered, that would be my burden now as well. I had to dress like a girl, covering everything up. Or get arrested for presenting myself to men. I really hated this country and its stupid laws. One thing was fortunate though, it looked like I didn't get any animal DNA inside me with the change.
A few hours later my dad drove us all to the MORFS center in Bandung. I was wearing an old Hijaab from my mom and a sari with an old T-shirt of my father. It was barely long enough. If I had been any taller, my bellybutton would have shown and I could get arrested for indecent exposure.
.... There is more of this story ...