Summer's End Part 8 By S.L.Hawke It was shaping up to be a very memorable Halloween... or Samhain, "Summer's End" festival, as some would call it. It had all started a few "interesting" months back... of the, "may you live in interesting times", Chinese curse variety. Interesting times, that kept getting progressively more "interesting" -- both the good parts, and the bad -- up until this disturbing weekend. Sometimes, you must pass through a little darkness, before you can come into the light... Copyright © 2011 S.L.Hawke. All Rights Reserved.
Have you ever wondered what a "Halloween horror" story would be like, from the witch's perspective? Meet Crystal, a transgendered witch who has big reasons to not be happy with some particular guys. A woman with her own difficulties... whose life turns many conventional story elements completely upside down...

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This is an (almost) true Halloween horror story -- loosely based on reality, it is semi-autobiographical in places... although the 'Autobiographical' tag has not been used, as poetic license has _definitely_ been taken. Which parts are true, and which are pure fantasy? "Truth is stranger than fiction...". Names have been changed to "protect the innocent"... and many events have also been deliberately scrambled a bit, to further obfuscate things -- so that if someone *does* recognize an actual person despite the name changes, they won't know who really did, or said, what. [And of course, some parts are purely imagination -- things *no one* actually did.]

There are many tales out there, about dressing for the first time... or early transition. This is something just a little different. Life, long after the dust has settled... but in unusual circumstances, where nearly forgotten gender issues once again come back to the surface...

CAUTION: This is an entry in the "TG Terror" contest: don't expect it to be entirely 'sweetness and light'. (Although, hopefully, the good times outweigh the bad). Contains mature adult content and themes -- reader discretion is advised. Occasional (rare) use of strong language, when it is appropriate. Occasional (rare) use of what some may consider 'explicit sexual' references or content, when necessary to the plot development.

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PART VIII: Samhain

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I started awake, at the faint, gentle tapping on our door. Slipping off the couch, I absently noticed soft sounds of breathing coming from the dark bedroom as I passed it. Glancing though the outer door's peep-hole, I found Amber -- who had obviously had her own sleep disturbed, as she was in a housecoat with her hair up in rollers.

"Crystal? Sorry to wake you... one of the girls tried to kill herself, and we can't get her to let us take her to the hospital. Michelle suggested you might be able to help...?"

 «Angela?! But... who is in the bedroom, then? »

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Chapter 17:

Mid October, Saturday, 04:48.

"Err, sure, Amber... just give me a moment to grab a robe or something...".  «And a moment to check on Angela... »

The seasons change fairly dramatically, and quickly, in northern Canada. Just a couple months previously, this time of day would have already been daylight... but in mid-October, it was still the dead of night, with dawn many hours away. Cautiously, I made my way through the dark apartment... glad for the moment of my fairly good night vision.

I don't think I have talked about the larger suite we were in now... the entrance was at the end of a moderately short hallway, with the two bedrooms on one side, the kitchen and bath on the other, and the living/dining room at the end of the hallway. To answer the door, I had actually walked past the master bedroom earlier... but at the time, I had been thinking about who was at the door -- I had not looked into the side rooms.

Back down the short hallway I walked, hesitating as I approached our bedroom... noting that the blinds were drawn, and that it was even blacker in there. Funny really... many think of witches as creatures of the night... but even a wicce can feel fear of the dark -- sometimes.

It was with relief, though, that I found Angela safely asleep in our bed.  «Okay, so it isn't her that Amber was talking about... I wonder what happened?"

Gathering my robe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door, I quickly donned it and re-joined Amber in the hallway.

Speaking softly so as not to disturb other residents, Amber informed me, "We are still a bit unclear on all the details... but we think Kristine tried to kill herself by stepping in front of a bus last night. It didn't work -- the bus managed to stop in time -- but afterwards, the police were called."

Her voice took on an angry undertone. "What they are *supposed* to do in a situation like that, is call for a special ambulance, that takes the suicidal person to the psych ward of the nearest hospital. But what they *actually* did, once they realised 'what' they were dealing with, was to throw her in the back of their 'drunk' van... then 'bounced' her."

Unclear what she meant, I asked, "Bounced?"

She made a face. "Sometimes with prostitutes or street people or whatever, when they want to 'teach someone a lesson'... but don't want to be charged with police brutality for directly hitting a prisoner... they will put someone alone in the unpadded back of one of their van's -- then drive around at high speed, swerving suddenly and slamming on the brakes randomly. It throws the prisoner around inside the van... 'bounces' them off the walls. At the least, the person usually ends up bruised... and sometimes, with broken bones. But they can claim that they never actually touched the prisoner -- that they were just driving normally, and it's not their fault if traffic caused them to have to stop suddenly. Unless there is a witness -- which there rarely is -- they often get away with it..."

I was still puzzled. "Okay... I get that. But... why would they bother doing that to Kristine? It seems a bit extreme, even if they don't like TS..."

She sighed. "I think Kristine resisted being put in the back of the van -- I'm not sure, but I think she may have sworn at the cops, and possibly even spit on one of them."

She paused, then continued, "Suicide by cop -- deliberately annoy or threaten one, in the hopes they will kill you. It doesn't usually work, but it's not the first time I have seen someone try it..."

"Whoa. Umm... I do have some psych training... but... suicide counselling is a specialty, and definitely *not* something I know much of anything about..."

She gave a short laugh. "Sorry... I should have told you what I needed your help with. The shelter has psychologists on retainer that we can send her to tomorrow. I just was hoping that you could maybe do a little first-aid stuff, patching up some of her scrapes and bruises... and... well... Michelle seemed to think that what had been bothering Kristine the last few days had something to do with her surgery. That isn't anything I know much about... and Michelle has never been through it, either. But... I know you *have* been through that, yourself, so... I was mostly just hoping you could just talk with her, as a friend. See what's going on, and help her get through the night until we can get her in to see someone professional..."

"Ah. Okay... although I should tell you right now that I need to keep an eye on Angela tonight, too. She's... umm... not feeling well, and I just don't like the idea of leaving her completely alone all night..."

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. "No problem. Michelle will stay with her room-mate most of the time... if you can just talk with Kristine for a bit?"

"Sure."

 «When it rains, it pours... why do things like this always happen at the same time? »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 05:25.

Actually, Kristine's physical problems were pretty minor. A bloody nose... a few scratches... a couple minor bruises. But as to *why* she had done it... well, we had been talking about that for a while, now.

"I just... you know. I just never really *planned* things to end up like this. Before I transitioned, I had my own business... a fully-paid-for home... a wife that I thought loved me. But... it all came unglued, ya know? My customers stopped calling... my wife threw me out, keeping the house and car... and the money I thought I had set aside to cover expenses and things, well, most of it just disappeared out of our joint accounts one day. Not that I really blame her..."

She shrugged. "It's just... I have been hanging on for most of a year now, doing what I had to do, to survive. I even became a hooker, despite being more of a lesbian than someone interested in guys... and despite my knowing that most of the clients probably thought of me as a perverted man in drag, not a woman. But through all of that... the thing that kept my going was... I just wanted to *die* as a woman, you know? *Not* as a man. I never really made any plans on surviving past my surgery -- that was *it*, the end of my planning. Only now... here I am. In uncharted territory..."

"Wow. Umm, what can I say to that? I would be lying if I said that everything magically becomes all peaches and cream after surgery." I snorted, softly. "After all, I *do* live just upstairs from you, here in this shelter. But... there have been a lot of good things, too, over the years. A lot of things..."

My voice trailed off, as for a bit I found myself thinking of some of the good times, as well as the bad. My relationship with Alex, back before we drifted apart. The lipstick dyke I had lived with for a time, before him. Others, over the years. The fun times, and the sad. Just life, the same as any woman's -- good parts, and bad. For all of where I ended up, I can't really say I regretted much of it...

Much of what we talked about is not mine to repeat. About all I will say is, post surgical depression is a tricky thing that sneaks up on many transitioners, for many different reasons. Just something to watch out for... and something that makes it always for the best to have planned out goals for life *after*, as well as how to get *to*, surgery...

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Saturday, 09:18.

Amber had taken Kristine off for an appointment somewhere... and Angela was still resting, albeit somewhat uncomfortably. She wanted to be alone, again... and right now, that was fine by me. I really needed some alone time, myself, right now.

I know it's a bit of a cliché, but I have always enjoyed relaxing in a bubble-bath. Or even just a nice long soak in a regular hot bath, if I don't have anything to put in the tub... as was the case at the moment. Actually, I rarely take showers, if I have a choice... it takes a bit longer to run a bath, but I have always felt that it was worth it.

I wish I could say I was just happy to have helped, with Kristine... and I suppose, on some level, I actually *am*. But...I am human, after all... and there are limits to what I can do. How much I can handle. In an emergency, I just do what needs to be done. Whatever it takes. But afterwards, alone? When I can think about everything at my leisure, as now, relaxing in a bath?

Much to my regret, the thought that was actually running through my mind was,  «I'm so *tired* of all this. I'm not Supergirl. I've barely got my own act together... can barely deal with what's on my own plate right now... and I have to deal with all *this*, too? »

Not something I am particularly proud of thinking... but there it is...

I am human... and humans can be rather self-centred occasionally. Including me.

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Sunday, 20:35.

Fall weather can vary a fair amount, from year to year, in northern Canada. Well, actually, I suppose that is true in most parts of the world... but that isn't really my point. Which is simply that some years, we may not see snow till almost mid-winter... and other years, it can come as early as late August. Still, usually early snowfalls are only temporary, and quickly melt away again. But eventually, we get a larger snowfall... and winter is here to stay a while...

I wasn't sure yet, about today's snowfall. There was a fair amount of it... but it was fairly 'moist' snow. Big flakes, softly drifting down from a nearly windless sky. Many of the native trees had shed their leaves earlier in the fall... but in the city, there are also many imported trees as well, which often wait until after the snow comes to drop their leaves. Perhaps not the best state of affairs, from an evolutionary point of view -- the leaves sometimes trap too much snow, breaking branches and harming the tree -- but from an aesthetic view... well... it was very lovely, this evening.

The sun had set a couple hours earlier, in the rapidly shortening days of a northern fall... but the city is large enough that it gives off considerable "sky glow". Lights from the city reflecting off the clouds, and even off the snowflakes themselves... a sort of diffuse illumination, that created an almost ethereal effect. So beautiful...

There wasn't really all that much snow accumulated on the ground -- it was barely ankle deep, really. But pristine white... covering everything. Hiding all the little uglinesses of our modern world... coating the tree branches, the shrubs... even helping the parked cars to blend in, and seem more a part of nature.

Near the shelter is an older residential neighbourhood, tucked away behind the high-rise apartments. A neighbourhood with somewhat narrow, tree lined streets... where the tree branches more or less occlude the sky -- even when not coated with snow. Tonight, they were soft white arches of frost and snow... a tunnel of white, nature surrounding myself.

I suppose I really had no business being out here. Being a woman walking alone in the dark is not a wise thing to do. But as troubled as I had been the last few days, I really felt a need for this alone time... a need to centre myself in nature again. A city street was not exactly ideal for that... but this night just felt special. Peaceful. Quiet. No one else in sight... my tracks alone in the otherwise unmarred sea of white. The beginning of a new day... and a chance for myself to re-charge...

The beginning of a new day? The Old Religion dates from an earlier era than Christianity. Much earlier. Some archaeological evidence points back at least thirty thousand years... although those origins are mostly lost in time, and more 'modern' traditions largely come from Celtic origins. A time when the new day began with sunset, rather than midnight. When all daylight hours were needed simply for the activities of survival... and rituals were, of practical necessity, usually conducted *after* it was too dark to work in the fields. Part of why things like Samhain are celebrated on the evening *before* what most modern people would consider the date to be. Why the 'witches' of Halloween come out on All Hallows Eve, rather than the following day. Samhain falls on what the Christian calendar calls November first... but for a wicce, November first starts at dusk on October thirty first...

Not that Samhain is entirely the same as Halloween, anyway. Halloween probably draws as much or more from the Roman Parentalia... the 'Festival of the Dead'. The End of Summer... and the start of Winter. The beginning of the new year, for Wicce. A Spirit Night, one of two... a time when the Thin Veil between the worlds is lifted. When the spirits of the dead are abroad, seeking their way through the veil from this world to the Summerlands...

Whatever. More amusingly, it is also a night when the Wee Folke and nature spirits were believed to be abroad... which in earlier times, resulted in some interesting traditions. Travelling after dark was not recommended, and if one *had* to do so, the best defence against the spirits was simply not to be noticed. Disguises, in other words. Dressing in white... like ghosts. Or nature costumes, made of straw. Or as another way to fool nature spirits, dressing as the opposite gender -- which was once quite commonly done, on this particular night. Smile.

Of more interest to me at the moment, though, was another aspect of Samhain... the Third Harvest. A time of the Dark Mysteries... and symbolic of the end of the Wiccan year, the Rebirth through Death...

But that is also getting a little too metaphysical for my present thoughts. Suffice it to say, in the Wiccan calendar, Samhain is a time when the previous year *ends*... and the new year begins. An ending I was all too ready to see... and the dawning of a new year also something I looked forward to. This past year had *not* been a lot of fun... I could only hope the new one would be better...

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Monday, 08:43.

One of the central concepts of Wicca revolves around the idea of accepting responsibility for your own actions. Not important... but... it has always made it hard for me to accept help from others. I enjoy helping others... but accepting help, myself? It's almost like doing so is to admit failure...

But I am human... and there are limits to how much I can deal with. Limits that the previous weekend had surpassed. Someone who is themselves very close to the edge has no business attempting to talk down someone even more suicidal -- it only serves to loosen the last fingernail anchors on sanity...

I had done some rather serious thinking, while walking last night. Reflecting on all my troubles. Group sessions at WELCoS had helped... let me hold things together... but there comes a time when that metaphorical last straw gets to be just that little bit too much.

"Can I help you?" the school administrative clerk asked.

"Yes... I... in our classes, they mentioned that there is a professional rape counsellor available for free sessions, here on the staff. And... that we could... could ask for help?"

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Tuesday, 18:48.

"Hey Avery, how did the wedding go last week?"

"It went perfect, thank you so-o-o much. I used some of the money your loan saved me to have your dress cleaned... it should be ready later this week. But I just wanted to, like, thank you tonight. And to let you know that I won a couple tickets from a local radio station. And, well, I was wondering if you might want to, like, go with me... are you busy on Saturday night?"

She held up her hands, almost defensively, between us. "Not like a date or anything, ya know? Just a couple friends going to a show -- it's supposed to be a *very* strange, but very kewl, performance..."

"Err... not really, I suppose. What sort of tickets are they?"

"It's called the Rocky Horror Picture Show... some sort of cult classic movie thingie that they show every year around Halloween, at a local community theatre. I haven't been there, but from the chatter on the radio, I gather that it can be, like, a *lot* of fun."

I found myself fighting to suppress a really big, wicked grin, that was threatening to bubble up. "That it is... I went to a showing a long time ago, when I was a university student. I don't know if this one will be anything like *that* experience... but... fun is definitely one way to describe that strange evening..."

 «I wonder if I should warn her what she is getting into? Although... the first time I went, I had not a clue -- and that made it all the more fun... »

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Thursday, 16:40.

There are quite a few odd items that have accumulated in my wardrobe over the years... bits and pieces acquired for many odd reasons. Which I suppose vaguely explains just why I actually already owned a real, 'high end' black leather 'merry widow' corset, complete with steel boning -- which allows you to really cinch the thing down for a wicked looking waist-line. A rather racy thing, what with its full length zipper down the front -- allowing for a truly "plunging" neckline -- and with it's matching G-string "wet look" black leather panty, and built-in garter belt hooks. Most definitely *not* the sort of thing I would _normally_ even *think* about wearing out in public... although my most recent ex, Alex, had liked it, back when he bought it for me...

Of course, as anyone knows who has ever seen the movie... the Rocky Horror Picture Show is *not* anything even approaching 'normal'. Grin. Which might explain why I was currently in a dollar store, looking for a few items that I don't normally keep in my wardrobe... such as fishnet stockings. Halloween can be a fun time of year to go shopping -- stores sometimes carry the oddest things, for use in people's costumes...

 «Speaking of which... that costume I bought doesn't include the broom shown on the package illustration. But that silly, gold glitter covered "witch's broom" looks like it would go well with the outfit... and it is really inexpensive, too. Hmm. I'm not so sure about the rubber full-face mask that goes with it, though -- who would want to have a long, bent nose... with a wart on it, no less? »

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Friday, 06:24.

After so many months of physio, it gets really boring doing the same simple exercises over and over again... although the pain those exercises inflict *does* tend to distract you from the boredom. But lately, for the last week or so, the pain had been getting a lot more manageable. This morning, I had actually managed to do the entire set of exercises *without* it hurting. Well, almost. Let's just say, with only minor discomfort... which is such a huge contrast from the previous state of affairs, that it felt like no pain at all...

 «I'm learning a lot at WELCoS... I almost hate to cut my time there short. But maybe it is time that I started looking for work again. Get a job again... some sort of light work, that will let my shoulder continue to heal. A real income. Start pulling myself back onto my own feet. From what I have seen others go through, it won't be easy, or quick... but it *can* be done... »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 23:28.

"Hi, Avery. Ready to go?"

"Umm, pretty much. I just need to drop my daughter off with Nasrine, who said she would keep her tonight with her own little one." She tilted her head, obviously noticing the fishnet stockings and extremely high heels... even if my long coat hid the rest of my outfit. "Umm, are the jeans I'm wearing going to be okay, or should I dress up a bit more?"

I found myself having to hide a grin again. "Jeans are fine. No one actually *has* to dress up for this show... although if you *want* to, well, you can go pretty wild without looking out of place. But it is a pretty specific sort of look that you need to go with, if you are going to do that -- for someone who doesn't know what to expect, it might be best if you just went 'normal'..."

My grin did slip a little, though, at the thought of *actually* going somewhere dressed as 'sexy' as this. Once, I might not have given it much thought. But lately? I had learned fear of the night... although I was determined *not* to let that stop me, tonight.  «Face your fears, girl! »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 23:50.

That grin was only getting harder to hide, as Avery's eyes kept getting bigger, looking at some of the costumes around us. The line outside the theatre was moving slowly... not really surprising, since they were searching handbags and things, before admitting people. Not for *real* weapons, mind you -- it wasn't *that* sort of scene. But while rice, toast, and newspapers were items they didn't care about... the theatre drew the line at squirt-guns or other sources of water. A safety hazard... the floors had gotten *very* slippery, as I recalled, during the other show I had been to so many years ago...

Her eyes only got bigger yet, when we got inside... and my own overcoat finally came off. Grin.

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Sunday, 01:55.

What can I tell you about that show, if you have never been? Just that there is a very good reason that it is the longest running movie ever produced -- still occasionally in theatres more than three decades after being released. If you just rent the video, you have a much better view than you get in the theatre -- but you miss out on so much of the fun. The audience costume contest. The performer's on the stage in front of the screen, lampooning the actual movie. The rice thrown about, in the wedding scene. The toast... the newspapers. Dancing The Time Warp with the rest of the audience. All of it...

Children under fourteen are not allowed, at least in Canada... but the audience is mostly young. A few older people, still enjoying a show from their youth... but mostly college kids or younger. A whole new generation, who were not even born when this movie was produced. People told by older friends... siblings... even parents, these days... to go check this thing out.

It's a fun time. How many occasions *are* there, for someone to wander around in public in a merry widow costume, dressed as a 'sweet transvestite from Transsexual Transylvania', *without* people thinking they are strange? Well, no stranger than the *rest* of the audience, anyway...

 «Although these days, I tend to identify much more with Magenta or Columbia, than when I first saw this thing as a transgendered kid... »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Sunday, 02:15.

"Wow. That was certainly different. I mean... I sort of knew what I was getting into, from what they said on the radio when they gave the tickets away... but..."

"Did you like it?"

"Oh yeah! I mean, I knew about you, from what Angela has told me... which is why I thought you might like to go, when I won the tickets... but I thought it was just going to be a way of saying thank you to you. That I would be bored. Which certainly was not the case!"

 «Oh, crap. I think I am going to have to have a little talk with Angela. This is why it's never a great idea for someone stealth to let people 'in on the secret'... you never know just who they will decide to tell as well... »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Thursday, 14:20.

Another half-day -- which were mostly scheduled on Fridays, but not always -- and more errands to run... although this particular one was starting to seem repetitive. I had been told to go back for follow-up testing for HIV in the last week of October... so I was back here, one more time. The Rape Clinic... which was almost starting to seem like just another doctor's appointment to me. Almost.

For three months now, I had been worrying about this. I obviously had not had to deal with the anxiety of possibly getting pregnant from that 'incident'... but disease? That had been a real possibility, and one I had tried hard not to think about...

The test itself was almost routine, now. Unfortunately... as usual, they had told me it would be about twenty four hours before I would be called with the results...

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Thursday, 15:22.

"Crystal? Is that you?"

I glanced around from where I was watching the city bus approaching the stop I was waiting at, still downtown near the clinic, to find Coral paused on the sidewalk beside me. I forced myself to be polite. "Err, hello, Coral. It's been a while... how are you?"

She gave me a big smile. "Oh, my husband and I are doing quite well, thank you. It's good to see you out and about, without a sling. For a while, I was a bit worried about you -- I am so glad to see that it all worked out for the best. That our pushing you out of the nest has gotten you back on your feet again, financially... the way I had hoped it would... and away from that dreadful Welfare thingie you were thinking of doing..."

As I momentarily reflected on everything that had happened in recent months, I found myself thinking,  «You are making some mighty big assumptions based just on how I am dressed and look at the moment, lady. But... what can I say, to someone so obviously utterly *clueless* about what she has done to me? »

I just gave her a tight, cold smile... then without looking back, boarded the bus.

 «It's funny, really. Everyone is the hero in their own personal world... and few people stop to think of themselves as a potential villain in some else's story... »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Friday, 08:55.

Catching the instructor at the door, I quietly asked her, "Shyla? I know it is normal policy that cell-phones must be turned off for classes... but I am expecting some medical results today...?"

After giving me a hard, searching look into my eyes, she chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "Please switch it to 'vibrate', and step out of the class when you get your call..."

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Friday, 11:25.

Slipping into the hallway, I glanced again at the call display... which was saying that this call was, indeed, from the hospital that the Rape Clinic was located in.

After the usual greetings and my identifying myself to the clerk, she finally got around to what I was waiting to hear. What I had been waiting to hear for three months now... three very long months, of wondering if I would be forever haunted with a physical reminder of that fateful night...

"I have some good news for you Crystal. The results of your HIV test came back negative, again. This is only the three month test... which is only about ninety seven percent accurate... but for most practical purposes, I think it is safe to say you are clear. If you want to be one hundred percent certain, you should have one final test in another three to six months, whatever is convenient... but that is just a formality, really. You are going to be okay..."

The long, secret terror of mine was over. Or at least, one of them...

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 18:

Late October, Saturday, 17:05.

"Hey Crystal, ya have any plans for tonight?"

I smiled at Angela. "Not really, no. I was sort of toying with the idea of going out to a club I know nearby... maybe celebrating a tiny bit, since I know many nightclubs are doing Halloween parties this weekend -- even though Halloween isn't, technically, for a couple days yet. But... it was just a thought. Why? Did you have something else in mind?"

She gave a sort of rueful shrug. "Not really, either. I just am going crazy sitting around the apartment, thinking about things best forgotten... ya know? Actually, going out for a bit sounds like a good idea..."

"Are you sure you are up to dancing, or whatever?"

She shrugged, more dismissively this time. "Yeah, no problem. I stopped bleeding a couple days ago... and other than that, I felt okay several days before that. I might take it a bit easy, but..."

"Kewl. I think they are doing a costume night tonight, at the place I am thinking of... I have one already, but do you have anything to wear?"

She sort of puffed her breath out, in a short sigh. "Err... no. Do ya think I really need one?"

"Umm... well, not *need* one... but... you might feel a bit out of place...". I paused for a moment, before continuing, "Although, maybe you could ask Avery if she has something -- I think she was planning to take her daughter out trick-or-treating, so she might have one..."

She looked sceptical. "Avery? Her daughter is what... about a year? Way too young to remember, or have a clue what is going on..."

It was my turn to shrug. "Hey, I didn't say she *should* be doing that... just that I think she *is* planning to do that... and she does sort of owe me a favour right now, if you are worried about imposing on her..."

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 17:45.

I had to suppress a grin, as I watched Angela try the "she-devil" costume on.  «Jeez, Angela is shorter than either myself or Avery -- given how close to indecently short that costume dress is on Angela, I *really* hope Avery is planning to wear conservative panties with it... »

Angela turned sideways, looking at herself in the closet door mirror... before turning to me with a rather dubious expression. "Umm, are you sure this is going to be okay?"

I let my grin escape. "Nope. Not at all. So? Have a little fun, girl... and just remember -- *do not* bend over to pick anything up tonight..."

She just laughed, briefly and self-consciously, while rolling her eyes at me. Then went back to looking doubtfully at herself in the mirror...

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 18:40.

"Whoa. Does *that* ever look different..."

While in the dollar store a week back, I had also purchased a cheap package of single use, black, wash out hair die... which really made for a dramatic change from my usual blonde hair...

 «Hmm. I'll need to go darker on my makeup tonight... and maybe use a black eyeliner to darken my brows as well. I was thinking of wearing the witch's mask, but I may not have it on all the time... »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 21:48.

"Well, what do you think of the totally effect, Angela? 'Better than mortal man deserves', or what?"

"Pretty hot, witchy woman." She winked, then added, "Although you might want to stay away from any Terminator costumes, with that line..."

I blinked.  «Wow! She actually *got* it. Way to go, Angela! »

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 22:16.

I would be lying if I did not admit that I was nervous, as we parked at the nightclub. It was the same "safe" club as I had taken Michelle to, several months back... but this time, I did not have the distraction of my concern for her to keep me from noticing my own fears.

"What's wrong, Crystal?"

I smiled, sheepishly. "Just silly old fears, spooking at nothing much. It's sort of the first real time I went clubbing, since that thing back in July..."

She reached out and squeezed my hand for a minute, before we exited the car.

~ ~ 0 ~ ~

Saturday, 22:37.

I felt a cold shiver pass up my spine, as I saw someone who looked vaguely familiar.  «Don't be ridiculous, girl. What are the odds one of *them* would be *here*, tonight? You are just spooking at shadows, again... »

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Saturday, 23:04.

With a grimace, I peeled off the silly mask.  «That thing's too hot to wear in here... at least, most of the time. Maybe I will put it back on, later... »

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Saturday, 22:48.

It can sometimes be *really* strange, when you are truly passable. I think I have mentioned that this particular club is GLBT friendly, even if mostly straight. That sometimes, you will find either Drag Queens or Cross Dressers, here. Apparently, on the weekend before Halloween at least, more than just ghosts and goblins come out: there seemed to be a *lot* more than just a couple trans-folk roaming around tonight...

Take the pair chatting in front of me, for example. Angela and I had actually been joking around with one of them... an older CD, maybe fifty-ish, who seemed to take cross-dressing seriously enough to at least try being passable... when another one approached her. From the conversation they were having, I gathered that the new one -- who really seemed to be a 'newbie' at all this -- had mistaken the CD for a transsexual. A *post op* transsexual, at that... although I am not sure exactly why -- perhaps it was just that she was a lot more passable than the average of the various 'obvious' trans-people here tonight, although still fairly easily clocked.

All this was unusual enough to be mildly weird for me... but the kicker? The newbie TS seemed to want advice on what it was like to have a sex change operation... all the usual sort of things that early transitioners want to talk about it. I could see that the CD was trying to be diplomatic... answering as best she could, about something she really wasn't that familiar with... but losing her patience, as the TS didn't seem to get the hints that were being dropped. Which is when I, perhaps foolishly, tried to interject a few comments -- answering some of questions, pretending it was just something I had read somewhere.

It didn't work. The TS completely ignored me, making a show of turning her back to me while continuing to talk to the CD.  «What could a 'natal' woman like me *possibly* know about those particular topics, anyway? »

After a moment or two, I just rolled my eyes, and went back to talking with Angela.

 «Her loss... »

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Saturday, 23:55.

"Okay everyone, it's almost the Witching Hour... and time for our 'Best Costume' contest. If everyone wearing a costume that wants to enter would please make their way out onto the dance floor, please..."

Ignoring the idiocy about the time, I looked at Angela. "You interested? I think the sign at the door said the prize was something like fifty bucks... which would be useful..."

She half-smirked, rolling her eyes. "Sure, why not."

Sensing a momentary sadness passing through her at some stray thought, I gently squeezed her hand before adding, "That's the spirit, girl. Let's give it a try, at least..."

Donning my mask, I followed her onto the floor.

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Sunday, 00:08.

Perhaps not surprisingly, given that she was in a borrowed costume that was too small for her, Angela had not made the first cut... but somewhat to my surprise, I had. Not that anyone here tonight had really gone 'all out' with their costumes... so maybe that was why I was still in the running. Although I suppose my visible cleavage may have also had something to do with the (male) judges votes...

 «Sexist twits. Although I suppose under the circumstances, maybe I should just go with it... »

A thought that had more than a little to do with my deciding to really turn it on heavy, flirting with the audience and judges, when it was my turn to walk around the dance floor. Which in turn possibly had more than a little to do with my winning second prize -- it wasn't *that* great of a costume...

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Sunday, 00:29.

Coming out of the lady's room in the back of the club, I was debating removing my mask again, when I noticed the group of guys by one of the pool tables. And one guy in particular... the same one that had vaguely caught my eye earlier, although I had not gotten a good look at him then.

 «Luke?! »

Some witches feel that rituals must be performed precisely as written, or risk dire consequences. Others believe that it is more important what is in your mind and spirit, while you are performing a ritual, than the precise details of what you do. Personally, I tend to subscribe to the later approach...

So even though I had made no preparations... was missing some items, and frozen in my tracks rather than walking a Circle... I found myself intoning familiar words, once again...

"...Ni yish enki bel gimri lu tamatunu
Ni yish marduk mashmash ilani lu tamatunu
Ni yish gishbar qumikunu lu tamatunu
Ina zumri ya lu yu tapparrasama!"

~ * ~ * ~

Luke casually noticed that his drink was empty, as he went to pick it up after missing his shot at the pool table. With a shrug, he turned away, about to head towards the bar... when he noticed a chick in a sexy witch's costume staring at him, seemingly mumbling something under her breath.

With a bit of a leer, he thought,  «Wonder what's her problem? Though I wish she'd lose the mask -- she looks like she might be *hot*, without it... »

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