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John was nervous. His heart was racing, his breath was tight and his palms were sweaty. He was not looking forward to what tonight could bring. The bandages were gone, but the scars were still plain as fire across his wrists. John needed to be open with his friends, his coven, to be able to share all of who he was. He had lied to so many people for so long that he had to try, if at least this once. If he could manage to be honest with the Coven then he might be able to be truly honest with himself. He wanted to see himself clearly and to heal. Whatever that entailed. Hopefully the Goddess would protect him tonight. Hopefully she would shield him from the fear that had shaped his life for so long.

His mom had let him take the car. He was happy for that, as he wanted to be able to leave if this turned out badly. To be stuck with someone who was screaming at him for a ride was not a good option. So he had been able to drive across town to where the Coven met. He wanted both to see them again and to run away. It reminded him of that Tarot card position. He smirked a little.

His therapist had suggested allowing him to continue his life, as he was actually working on addressing the things that had caused his to slash his wrists in the first place. John was still a little shaky but the therapist was definitely good at making him deal with himself and keep him from hiding.

The Coven met at the High Priestesses house, just outside of the city limits. It was an old barn that she had converted into a house over the course of a few years. There was a great deal of room inside and it felt warm and comfortable thanks to the paint and decor. He found a place to park on her grass amongst the other cars and a few motorcycles. He looked around and shut off the car. A couple of deep breaths helped to slow his racing heart. He got out of the car slowly and made his way purposefully across the yard to the house. He knocked lightly on the door, hoping that no one would hear. That would allow him to run.

Susan, the High Priestess, opened the door promptly. She took one look at John and pulled him into her arms. He was almost crushed by her large breasts and her strong arms. The hug caught him by surprise, despite the fact that this was how she greeted everyone. This time she did it just a little bit more vigorously. “John, thank the Gods, you’re alright. We were so worried about you when we heard what had happened. Why didn’t you call?”

He heard other voices responding to the sound of his name with excitement and nervousness. Perhaps some of them felt like he did. He spoke up. “I’m fine Susan. I’m doing a lot better now. The two weeks in the hospital helped me a lot. My therapist is really good and I am on some anti-depressants. They seem to be helping.”

“Sweetie, why didn’t you call? We would have done what we could to have helped you. After all, we’re your coven. We’re here for you, for each other.” Her voice dropped to a more maternal concern. She was like the loving mother no one ever had. She really did try to take care of everyone who fell under her influence.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but at the time I just felt really alone and hopeless. I felt nothing but pain and regrets. Calling anyone would have taken effort, and effort was something I didn’t really have. I felt like no one would understand my pain.” He hung his head a little at this. He didn’t want to meet her eyes. He was actually ashamed for weakening as much as he had. David was right a bit when he said that killing himself was a copout, a cheap escape, and a sign of deep weakness. It wasn’t something that a man did.

“Come on in. John, part of being a High Priestess is being able to deal with difficult things. I have helped counsel other people past suicide before. It wouldn’t have been the first time I would have been called to do that. It’s part of my job.” Her smile was reflected by him. He began to feel better. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so hard after all. Maybe they might just understand. He really could use their support. “Tonight we are doing a sharing circle. I will start it and we will share some pain and some joy. We will then turn our energy to weakening our pain and strengthening our joy. I hope this will help. I had you in mind when I put this together.”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she was quickly displaced by several other members of the coven, who hugged him and a few even kissed him. They really made him feel welcomed as he blushed a little. They treated him as family. The feeling made him feel bad about not trusting anyone with what had been bothering him, been driving him crazy. But the secret had been too big for him to deal with at that point. It was still too big and almost invisible to him. He was dealing with it now, though. He could finally see the barest outlines of it. It was funny that he had never really known what had been driving him towards death.

“John, are you alright?” This was from Estelle, who had introduced him to the people of the coven two years ago, when they were in high school. The two of them had even gone out for a little while, but it hadn’t really worked out for either of them. Something had gotten in the way between the two of them. John thought that maybe the secret had destroyed his relationship with her. It was possible after all. They had managed to remain good friends despite all of that. Her concern now was proof of that.

“Mostly. I’m still a little shaky and they said it would take a while to get my blood volume back to normal. I lost a lot of blood before my mom found me. I’m a bit anemic right now, but I am getting better.” He barely remembered the screams, or even the paramedics pulling him from the water. Things had been really faint and fuzzy at that point. But he did recall the ER and being escorted upstairs to the psych ward after they had bandaged and refilled him. He doubted he would forget either of those events. To blink back into life, looking up at a doctor and a nurse was very odd. He had been both sad and relieved. And the inhabitants of the locked floor, were...an experience. That was perhaps the nicest way to put it. Some of them had made him feel painfully normal.

“Why didn’t you call and talk to me?” she accused, her fists balled tight on her hips, her gaze stern. “You know I would have been there for you, regardless of whatever the reason.”

John felt his face go red with embarrassment. He had been doing that a lot more recently. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “Yeah. I know. It’s just that I felt so overwhelmed and hopeless. I didn’t think anyone else would understand what I was going through. I hurt so bad that death seemed like a good way to get rid of the pain. I should have called.”

She hugged him again, tightly. He could feel her breasts press against him. She kissed him briefly on the cheek. “I’m sorry myself. I wish I had been there for you so you would have trusted me. I had been so busy with my own life that I had not noticed what you were going through. I wish I had been more of a friend.”

John half-smiled at her. He might have trusted her with this, but he was still worried that people wouldn’t understand what he had been repressing. He still had to work to face it himself. It wasn’t easy and it hurt to think of. Hopefully he could find some assistance and comfort from the coven. They all had been there for him before. They had been there for others. He remembered that Liz had been helped a lot during her pregnancy. Maybe they would be there for this.

Susan came back into the living room a short while later. She had pulled on her black ritual robe and let down her hair, streaks of gray framed her face. She clapped to get everyone’s attention. They all turned and looked at her. “Everybody, I’m ready for tonight’s ritual. Once everybody is in the ritual room and seated we can get going. We’ll start soon.”

The whole group walked slowly into the family room which also doubled as the coven’s ritual room and got themselves seated on various pillows and chairs that were scattered about. John chose the pillow that he usually sat on. It was a green pillow that had a heavy canvas cover. He liked it and it was comfortable. Some of the pillows were really thin and uncomfortable. Plus, it was near Estelle.

The brick wall by the fireplace had the altar set up in front of it. There was a black cloth covering an end table or maybe even a coffee table, some small low table that John had never seen. It had been embroidered with silver thread in a number of magical symbols along the outer edges. He had never been sure which it was, end table or coffee table. It didn’t matter, but he was still curious. There were also several candles on there of varying colors. Susan busied herself with lighting the candles on the altar and the sticks of incense. The candles in the wall sconces were already lit.

A rich woody scent filled the room. The smoke braided its way up to get blown about by the air coming from the vents. The stream of brown smoke tore apart at that point, from still steady stream into an ever widening haze. Susan stood there, before the alter, with her eyes closed, facing the eastern wall, which had a poster of a solstice sunrise through the stones of Stonehenge on it. Susan held her black handled athame comfortably in her right hand. She raised the tip of the blade until the tip of the athame rested against her forehead, between her bushy eyebrows. John could hear the slow release of her breath and she moved the blade forward.

“Spirit of the East, spirit of fire, spirit of the rising sun hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.” The blade traced out the lines of a pentacle as she spoke, starting from her left hip and ending with a circle enclosing the symbol. She placed the blade into the center of the pentacle and turned to the right, to face the south. John could picture the lines of blue fire that he used when calling his own circles. The athame returned to that spot between the brows.

“Spirit of the South, spirit of earth, spirit of growth hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.”

“Spirit of the West, spirit of water, spirit of the setting sun hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.”

“Spirit of the North, spirit of air, spirit of intellect hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.”

Susan then turned her gently lined face to the ceiling, her arms outstretched. “Great Lord, youth, father, sage, hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.”

The athame moved to turn the circle to a sphere with another traced pentacle at the top. She then turned to face the floor. “Great Lady, maiden, mother, crone hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art.”

With the tracing done she clutched the blade to her chest, point rising between her full breasts. “Spirit within hear me. I call you forth to stand and witness this my magical art. All other helpful spirits welcome to this circle. In beauty it is begun, in beauty it is cast, in beauty it is finished, in beauty it is done.”

Susan placed the athame back onto the altar. There was a moment of silence where John could feel her tension begin to fade. He was now between worlds. He was safe. A quiet descended on him, like the peace of a church between services, a house filled with loving presence.

Susan’s voice rose again. “Lord, Lady I call upon you from the center of my coven. Thank you for all the blessings you have given us and thank you for all of our lives. Please let your blessings descend upon each of us here.”

Susan sat next to the altar. She stretched out her hands to either side and the group joined hands. “Welcome everyone to this celebration of the full moon, this esbat. We are especially blessed for the return of John who has returned to us from the arms of death on the new moon. Due to this, and partly to help us deal and share the pain that John has gone through we are going to have a night of sharing. Each of us will share some pain with the group. It can be simple or deep, it doesn’t matter. Shared pain is lessened. After that we will all speak of something that gives us joy. Whatever you want to talk about, if it makes you happy and joyful mention it. Then we will all send our energy to the Lord and Lady to thank them and cherish their unconditional love they have for all of us. Sounds easy enough? Any questions?”

The silence was heavy, as if everything was trying to think of what they were going to share. Susan gave the last little bit of directions, while handing over the talking stick. “Okay. Mary, you start.”

The middle aged woman with short brown hair started. “My Pain is that I have been battling alcoholism. I began drinking when I was eleven. At first I did it cause it was cool and made me feel adult. I mean, there were all these movies where the cool people drank. I wanted to be cool, so I drank. It eventually got to the point where I couldn’t function without a drink or two everyday. That turned to three and four, and so on. I lost my husband due to drinking and it began to destroy what I had made of my life. Four years ago, I started AA and it has helped. I have finally made it to one year of sobriety. I know this is something that is going to haunt me till I die and I can never let my guard down.

“My Joy is actually this coven. I know, it’s cheesy, but it’s true. When I started coming here the rituals, teaching and friendships made fighting of the urge to drink easier. This coven makes me happy and I’ll probably be here as long as it is.”

The older man to her left spoke up. “My Pain is the death of my wife. She died six years ago and it still hurts. I see her face everywhere I turn. Everything reminds me of her. We were together for thirty-three years when cancer took her. Chemo didn’t work and she just wasted away before me.” His eyes misted and a few tears rolled down his face.

“My Joy is my Granddaughter. Thankfully my wife was able to see her after she was born. She is the apple of my eye. She has made a difference to me.”

“My Pain is my shoulder,” spoke up the young man next in the circle. “I injured it in college, playing basketball with some of my friends. After two surgeries, it still hasn’t really healed right. It hurts all the time and I have to get shots every three months to make the pain bearable. And my joy is that my fiancée and I can still have sex.”

A bunch of people laughed at that.

Susan took the stick and passed it on. “My pain is that I had Cancer. Due to the fact that I had breast Cancer I lost my right breast. I use a breast form to keep me balanced. My joy is this coven. You have all helped me with my faith and my grief.”

Estelle took the stick. “My pain is the fact that when I was six my father tried to have sex with me.”

The quiet in the room took on a deeper tone, as the pain and fear in her voice filled the circle. “He came in to the room to tell me a bedtime story and started to rub my back. He began lingering on my butt. I felt weird but not sure what to do. He began to inch up my PJ’s and keep going. I just laid there, my heart pounding. My mom walked in when he started pulling down my underwear. He left that night and I never saw him again.”

She was silent a moment before her voice began again, “My Joy is in painting. There is such a great outlet from mixing paint and making the paint do what you want. It is so liberating to be able to do that. I started with watercolors and am now moving on to oils. It’s my absolute Joy.”

She handed John the stick and the tension in the room shifted again. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as the old guy, Ron, had taught him. His pounding heart slowed a little though his mouth still felt really dry. “My Pain is my life.”

He could feel the weight of all of the eyes on him. It made him shift uncomfortably. It was now or never he thought. “All my life I have been hiding from something. Something that scared the crap out of me. I made my life in a fashion to keep my pain hidden. It never really helped. The discomfort I felt with my body and with myself grew and grew. I finally couldn’t handle the fact that my thoughts and feelings and my body didn’t match. I didn’t really know of a way to escape. So I planned to kill myself.”

His heart was pounding. “My pain was that I was male.”

This time his fellow coveners were the ones to shift uncomfortably. The room felt a little cold and he shivered a little bit. His heart raced and it felt like it was in his throat, trying to keep him from talking. His palms were really sweaty. He wiped them off on his pants. “I was conflicted because what I felt I was and what everyone else told me I was never matched up. It was horrible. I hated myself and the body I was in. I was jealous of women for having the bodies I so desperately wanted. The pain kept growing until I cut my wrists. Why should I live if all I would be is tortured?”

He again took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “My joy is that I am getting help with this. I have a new therapist who has dealt a lot with this. Apparently it is called Gender Dysphoria. I don’t know what therapy will bring but hopefully I’ll be able to have a life.”

He passed on the stick to the person next to him. They took it automatically, not really thinking about it. The silence was profound. The girl who had taken the stick, shook herself for a moment. She shifted away from John, attempting to make it look like she was getting comfortable. He could feel their eyes on him. It was uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it to them.

The rest of the night seemed to go woodenly. After the circle was down John left Susan’s house and no one tried to stop him from leaving. He got in his car and drove for a while, calling his mom to let her know he was going to get something to eat. He wasn’t hungry but it would keep him out from under her watchful eye for another hour at least.

David had shared with him the special joy of driving. His brother had told him all about the healing power of miles. The more he drove the better he felt. John didn’t feel quite the same way. To him driving was a way to get from place to place. He couldn’t escape anything that way.

He drove to the local lake and parked his car in one of the lots close to the water. He got out and sat on the grass watching the water. It had been a risk to tell everyone tonight and it proved to be a bad plan. He felt that his coven would never talk to him again. Great, more people to ostracize him for being himself. So much for the power of the truth.

His phone rang.

He picked it up. “Hello?”

“John?” It was Estelle.

“Yeah?”

“I was worried about you. You left so quickly that we didn’t have a chance to talk. Are you by the lake?”

She did sound a bit worried to him. “Yeah. The usual spot.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The line went dead in his hand.

She pulled up a few minutes later in her red two door. She got out and sat next to him. For a few minutes the just quietly watched the water.

“So, why do you think you’re a girl?” It was an honest question. Her voice sounded interested.

“I don’t really know. I have felt this way my whole life. Why do you think you’re a girl?” He countered.

“That’s easy. I got tits, a pussy and I bleed monthly. That’s why I’m a girl. You don’t have those, I know. You’re a great fuck and you seemed to enjoy it. Why this?”

“I don’t know!” He threw a stick into the water. It slashed into the water with a wet sound. He knew what he felt, he just didn’t really know how to express himself.

“Well, hopefully this doctor will cure you and you’ll get to feeling better.” She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “You are definitely on of the nicest boys I know. Don’t go changing that now.”

John just looked out at the water. Estelle didn’t really seem to be getting it. None of them probably did. He wasn’t sure even he did. How could he explain it to anyone else when he barely understood it himself? “I don’t really plan on it. I just want to be myself, whatever that is. I’m confused and it hurts. I don’t know who I am and I probably have never known.”

She hugged him again. She took his head in her hands, turned his face to hers and kissed him. His mouth slowly opened and her tongue took the opportunity to reach his. He relaxed into the kiss and held her to him. She broke the kiss and whispered sweetly into his ear. “Don’t change John. You’re such a wonderful man.”
 

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End of Part 2
 
 
To Be Continued...