The thing I remember most is that I didn't cry. It's funny how the mind works like that. I don't remember the words my sisters said to me, or what they were wearing, or even if they were crying- all I remember is that I didn't cry.

And that I'd just been told the most devastating news a 13-year-old boy could hear: that his parents were both dead.

Leaving magic class, I was grateful that none of my classmates followed me to subterfuge. Having to face anyone who'd seen me naked so soon after it happened, would have been unbearable. There was one teeny tiny problem however, I had to walk the hallways by myself, and who knew what Micheal or his friend Victor would do.

Sara and I made our way out to the center of the school garden. I found a good place for us to sit and try and commune with the Goddess. "Are you sure you want me here while you do this?" Sara asked me extremely nervously.

"Sara, I don't want you alone with that crazed boy after you."
I say with the utmost seriousness and love. I am not going to let anything happen to her, so I will stay by her side till this whole incident is resolved.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Six: A Serious Conversation

I woke up early and Sara was still sound asleep next to me. I slide out of bed and walk to the bathroom to get cleaned up for the day. The other girls were not surprised to see me in their dorm building now, especially after the scene we made at dinner last night. It didn't bother me that they knew what I was doing last night. It was fun and I am sure most of them would have loved to be having pleasure like that last night.

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to 
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Five: Costume Shopping 

It was around twilight when we left the parking lot of Dollar General. As we drove through the narrow streets of Benton, toward our next stop. Gwendoline seemed a little lost for words. She seemed lost in thought, she kept looking over me, and every time she would look at me she would smile. I returned the smile with one of my own. 

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Four: Basic Supplies

James Kirkpatrick was not quite fourteen, small, and trans. Of a timid disposition she was constantly bullied by both girls and boys alike at school and in the neighbourhood where she lived with Keely her nineteen year old sister.

Caution: This story contains references to prostitution, murder, and suicide, but there are no graphic depictions of any of them..

I’m George Walda. Shortly after I turned 17, some strange things started happening to me. First it was this recurring dream that I had turned into a pile of goo.

After the near-disaster of the previous day, senior guildsmen arrive to investigate the steam engine and to rebuild it if possible. They are naturally surprised by Milsy's abilities as she and Senidet demonstrate what they can do.

What Milsy Did

by Penny Lane

34 - The Missing Link

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to 
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Two: Making Plans

The English language is full of idioms. One of the simpler ones is “Time flies when you're having fun.” I'm not sure how true that is, but it seemed I soon lost myself in my work. The simple act of bending down, picking up a weather worn trinket and tossing it into the trashcan before moving on to the next one was like a simple form of meditation to me.

I thought about what Sophia and Savannah had talked about last night, about their fathers and their long estrangement and how they were trying to be friends again now. Would it be like that between me and Nathan when I made contact again after I turned eighteen?

“So... Petra, will you be keeping the new body?” Clarice asked, looking a tad envious.

Slumped in my seat, I was busy stuffing food into my face. Being killed and resurrected over twenty times had made me work up an appetite. The new proportions probably didn't help matters either. It felt like I was sitting on balloons, and I missed being able to see my feet.

By

Gwen Brown

This Short Story has been laying in one of my SSDs, neglected and unfinished for years. It seems that my protagonist is deeply confused about their gender. That’s not the half of it. What can we do to fix that? This is a story of secrets, deception, abuse, and war.

Social outcast Peter meets a nice girl. Does she like him for himself?

A conversation with a Phantom

The mall closes its doors at nine o' clock on the dot each night. On week nights I'm in bed by then, but on Friday and Saturday nights I'm still roaming the corridors. This was one such night, it was seven at night, the sun had set and a full moon could be seen against the backdrop of a dark, cloudless night sky. The mall was as quiet as the grave and a strange stillness was starting to settle over the building.

The character in this story was introduced as an encounter in The Kissing Bandit. I later decided the character deserved a background of her own. Normal started as a way of reconciling the inconsistencies.

Changing

I’m Ben Plover. I was a perfectly ordinary thirteen-year-old boy until it happened. Actually, until two things happened. Where most boys grew hair on their body, I started growing feathers. And I started turning into a girl!

Dozens of hands were grabbing Alexander, long nails claws at his hair and clothes trying to get a grip. The vines attached to the hand encircled him like snakes, their thorns scraping along his skin, drawing blood.