I use to have another life, I was a different person, a different gender, had a different name, lived on the other side of the ocean. But I wasn’t happy with my life, my family, and I feared them and myself to the point that at age twenty I ran away but I didn’t just jump on a plane to the USA, I changed my name, gender, and lifestyle, possibly even some of my personality.
My name is currently Dean Page and I am thirty years old. Nobody knows what really happened to the old me. I escaped that life.
I haven’t told anybody either.
I did it mainly because my family wouldn’t have approved of little Haley Campbell becoming a guy or anything that wasn’t a farmer. They were one of the families who were open to talking but never made the people around them feel welcome or comfortable enough to talk.
It wasn’t easy or cheap but I had already taken courses in the field of work I wanted to get into now all I had to do was make my getaway.
I left in the middle of the night in my car and drove two hours to an airport and got on a plane. I had paid for the ticket in cash so the only paper trail was my car left fifteen minutes away from the airport.
I abandon my old life that sucked and where I was unhappy to start a new one. Where I could live how I wanted and be who I wanted and have nobody judge me cause no one knew my past.
I enrolled in the nearest police academy under the name Dean Page, prior to my education, I got surgery done and had to take it easy for the first couple of weeks well my body healed.
Everyone at the academy knew I was transgender but unlike my family and old friends accepted who I currently was and didn’t wonder who I had been.
Two months after moving to the USA I started seeing missing posters of me. I looked nothing like the old me but still worried someone would find out. I didn’t want to go back, as much as I missed my younger brother who was probably the only person in my family I enjoyed being around back home, I didn’t want to see them again or go back to a place where they basically wanted to conform me to believe I was female.
I dyed my hair from dark brown to black as a precaution and wore blue contacts over my green eyes.
Everywhere I went I was afraid someone would see through my disguise, but no one ever did.
A decade passed and I moved up the ranks in the police forces until I got to the FBI.
I basically stayed there, I enjoyed solving crimes all over the world, mainly in the USA.
But an issue came up. My missing person’s case file.