How is to be a sfenist?

A sfenist

The radio beeps and I wake up. The 3 AM train is coming. This happens every night. This is why I never sleep in night clothes, but with a dress that would suit for outside somehow. I get out of bed, light a cigarette and cross the river to the station. The train passes like in every day, as the engineer hails me. Usually, then I go back to sleep until past 6. But not this time.

Is this stranger really a sfenist? Better be, if he wants to live. I stay in the station, on the bench. It is dark outside. No light, the sky is dark. I take a deep drag from my cigarette. How I became a sfenist? That horrible incident that transformed a cute and polite girl into what I am now. That infidel (may his soul rot in the deepest infected part of hell). When he lied that he wants me to help find forest fruits. Then, he started beating me, put his socks in my mouth and took the knife to my neck. I was only 12 or 14. Then he raped me. I look in his eyes and all I could see is not pleasure, just a demonic instinct. His eyes were burning like the shores of hell. Oh. Even after all these years, I cannot recover. My body starts shaking and I feel cold through my body and sweat. May his soul suffer forever for this!

But that was nothing compared to what was to come. For months, I had nightmares. I woke up many times screaming, dreaming about snakes from hell, covered with something slimy and entering my mouth. My sisters could not sleep with me any longer. My parents prayed to Allah, prayed to God, prayed to our ancient gods, to all spirits, all saints and all angels, but I needed a long time to recover. For a long time, I could not tolerate an adult male closer then a few meters from me. One day, I went to the reservoir to have a bath. When I seen adult men resting on the shores, taking a sunbath, I started shaking and ran away immediately.

I take another drag from my cigarette, thinking again. Years passed, but in vain. Many things changed, but not all. At high school, guys were looking after girls. And why not? Some of them were really handsome. So, I said to myself: Why not? There was one who really was interested in me. We went to a park and he started to touch me. It was like worms were getting out from his hands and covering my body with a slimy infected goo. Then, he moved his hands towards my breast, close to my neck. Immediately, I took my purse and hit him so hard in the head. It was not me. It was my body, rejecting him. I hit him probably 10 times, then shouted: "Leave me alone, infidel!". He looked at me surprised and scared, while I was crying.

Each time some guy tried to touch me, the same happened. I hit him with anything I could.

When the news reached school, there was a TV series running, Xena, the warrior princess. So, I become Xena! only that I had no boots. Guys tried again to flirt with me. But one day, in the school yard, one guy, Abdul, tried more then made sense. He was always looking for me and I could see in his eyes all the sin, like a flare. He touched my neck just where that infidel once hung his knife... and in the next second Abdul was on the floor and I was beating him with my feet. At that time, there was another TV show: Andromeda, the destroyer of worlds. So, I became Andromeda.

I became proud of this. Hey, one guy sent my life to hell, now I am making all guys to pay for this! Just what they deserve! I became an androgin (a person that hates men).

I light a new cigarette, still sitting on the bench in the dark cold of the night. I look at the cigarette... What gave me a new identity? What saved me? Smoking. Yes. The cigarettes. I was long called Princess Nicotine from school. At high school, this became Nicotiana. And later, as a shorter name, Ana. When I got a job on the railway, I lied and wrote my name as Ana.

From time to time, people said I needed psychological treatment. They say sfenists can be cured, if they are treated immediately. It is only in part true. We can be treated, but we never recover. And if this is not done fast, there is nothing left to do. But what good to make love with a guy if you feel only pain and remorse? Why should I? Just because everybody does it?

Then came light into my life. At the University, I had some extra classes of Psychology, that allows me to work in a school. There, I found an old teacher, who was talking to us very openly. So, I came to her and told her my life. What she said was the light of my new life. Just as when you light a cigarette, it comes to life.

"You are a sfenist, my dear", she said.

She explained me what a sexual minority is and that we, sfenists, are just like any human, only that we cannot have a sexual life. Or if somehow we can, it will not be pleasure. She told me about other sfenists that she found. Even more, she decided to take me to a sfenist couple. Incredibly, they had a child, made artificial. I was amazed of the love I seen in their eyes. Much more affection then in classic couples!

I meet a few sfenists, the vast majority of them girls. All were happy and trying to help. One of them told me:

"Vesuvius destroyed the town of Pompeii beyond recovery and the ocean destroyed Atlantis beyond any chance of salvation. There is no way to rebuild a life that you've lost. Instead, accept what you are and be a friend of yourself. Build a new life, starting from what you are now. It will never be the same, but it will make you happy".

From that day on, I am Ana, the sfenist. The only people that know this, are other sfenists and my parents. And the teacher who saved my soul. I am Ana, Nicotiana, Princess Nicotine. My purpose in life is to help other people with anything I can, but all idiots with extra testosterone should know that this kindness is doubled with the sharp blade of a sword.

I remain on the bench for too long. What time is it? Once there was a cigarette in my hand, now there is only a filter left. Soon will be morning. I look at my feet, covered with a layer of pantyhose. The toes are not visible in this dim light. I must go to the house and put on day clothes. And for the stranger, what sort of breakfast should I make?

So, I get in the house and take a longer skirt, but short enough so that he can see my feet, booties and a sweater. Now, I directly enter the kitchen and start making breakfast. I wake him up. Well, sorry, this is my kitchen after all. This morning we have eggs!

"Did you sleep well?" I ask.

"Yes, had some bad dreams..."

"Don't worry! Well, my chicken made some eggs and this will be our breakfast, with a glass of milk and two slices of bread. Hope you like it!"

"Never wished for more. At the mine, in mornings, I used to eat a pretzel or a pack of biscuits".

"Good you are not into meat!" I say laughing "cause we don't have much anyway".

"No problem, Nicotiana".

"Come on, move out of bed! It is starting to get light outside" I say, trying to take his blanket away.

"One second..."

"You have nothing to hide, I know about your pantyhose" I say with a big smile. "So, just let me see!"

He does as I said, staying on the bed and exposing his pantyhosed feet up to the knee. I sit on the bed near him until the eggs are cooked. Then, I take our food on two plates and give him one. I sit near him, on the bed. We eat quietly. But I feel he wants to say something. I can see this in his eyes. I just wait and eat in silence, thinking of something. Maybe, just as smoking gave me a new identity as Ana, pantyhose gave him a new identity. Who knows? If this is the case, his life is strongly connected with this. But only if he really is a sfenist. If not, I will be giving him his eggs to eat for breakfast.

We finish eating and I take the plates and wash them in a plastic basin. Then, I take two cigarettes: on for me and one for him. I know he will only light it and not smoke, but... I must be patient. He will smoke one day or another. I have to make him used to this.

"Nicotiana", he sais, "I must confess something to you".

"Please, tell me".

"You are the only person in this world that I have the closest".

I look amazed in his eyes and almost I drop my cigarette from my fingers. What is this?

"You are the only one in the world that I have. And you are the only sfenist that I know" he sais with a trembling voice. "This is the truth and you are the only person in the world that showed me it".

I can see his eyes getting wet. This can't be!

"What happened in my life, nobody could understand, even if I told some people. Even my parents never understood" he sais with a bit more secure voice. "I told you I was raped by a gay at high school and I never recovered. For years I had problems. One day, in summer, I was in a minibus. It was hot, people were wearing as little clothes as possible. Smelling the sweat of other men and seeing their exposed skin... made me almost starting to kill people there. I said I am sick and ordered the driver to stop in the middle of nowhere. I moved outside and started to throw-up. The driver waited me to recover or to call an ambulance, but I didn't want. I just walked 7 km on foot to the nearest village".

I look amazed at him. Yes, he really is a sfenist.

"The real reason I am here is because I ran away", he sais. "I ran from my parents, who forced me to get a normal life, to go to psychological treatment and even forced me to have sex. Now, you know all".

He stays unmoved for a few minutes. I light another cigarette. Then, I gently touch his head and his hands.

"Don't worry, there is nobody that can harm you here. You've come to the end of the world, now it's time to end your former life that you could not follow and start a new life. It is time to be you. Time to discover yourself. Just as I did at my time. Just accept that you, like me, belong to a sexual minority and you cannot follow a classic life. Think for a second about the gay people".

"Gay people?" he answers surprised and with some anger. "A gay did this to me and sent my life to trash".

"No", I say. "Do you know that there are sfenists who are gay? Gay people are not good or bad, they are just people, like anyone, like us. The one who destroyed my life was not gay. And at the University, when I found out that I belong to a sexual minority, I came closer to a group of homosexuals and lesbians to understand them. Beside their unusual intimate life, they are humans, like all of us. Nothing bad is with them".

He looks at me, amazed. "For half the night I couldn't sleep. I was only thinking about what you said, that I am a sfenist".

"The same happened to me when I realized this. Just try to understand that you are different. And stop listening to people who try to force you out of your way. Just be yourself. Ok? This is the way. Build your new life based on what your heart tells you to do and not on others".

Then I look again at his pantyhosed feet. I directly touch his knee and feel the soft fabric.

"I suppose your pantyhose addiction has something to do with your trauma".

"I built this addiction stronger after that incident. Yes, you might be write. Who knows how my brain acted".

"Well," I say "Maybe your new identity wants to be more feminine. Maybe this is your new you. If this is the case, then don't hide. Accept what you are! Not accepting will only make you suffer".

"Maybe... I don't know. In part, yes. But it is also that I want, in a sort, to become the woman I dream to have... well not a real woman, an imaginary one. As a sfenist, there is no way I can get into a strong relationship".

"I have nothing against if you want to wear a dress or make-up or expose your feet. After all, people think I am crazy and some think I am a witch! They will say I made something to you".

Saying this, makes me laugh. And I laugh... and he laughs too.

"You know, I did this, but behind closed doors. I dressed-up with woman clothes from my mom. The only thing I do wear is pantyhose, because they are easy to hide, they are cheap and I have this addiction for them".

"I noticed your addiction. And to make you happy, I have been wearing pantyhose every day and night from when you appeared".

"Oh, you shouldn't do that" he sais surprised. "You have done already too many things for me, that I will never be able to repay".

"You don't need to pay me anything. Just to listen to what I say and that's all. I want to help you".

But the train is coming and he has to go to the mine. Before this, I tell him to let dirty clots (pantyhose included) for me to wash. So, I move out and let him dress for work. We go to the station when the radio beeps. The old, rusted passenger train struggles to climb these mountains to the mine, over these damaged rails, never repaired since they were laid here. He enters the train as I light another cigarette.

*****

At the mine, our stranger (or Atan as miners call him) arrives and looks tired. At the lunch break, coworkers come to eat near him.

"Hey, Atan, it looks like you survived. But why are you so tired?" sais a worker.

"Maybe he did something last night, folks" sais another one.

"No, no. Just... we talked a lot".

"Wow! You talked a lot? And did not touch her? Did you kiss her?"

"No".

"Beat it, man! She is the hottest girl in these mountains and you are sitting face to face with a goddess? I don't believe it! If I were you, I would have put a pillow on her face and rape the hell out of her".

"Come on, people", sais Atan. "She is not into this. We talked about the mine, about the world where I come from, about stars, Astronomy..."

"Stars, astronomy? I think she is doing something to you. Get out, buddy! Will you? I never seen a man to be with her and leave in one piece".

"Well, if I die, you guys drink a beer for me, cause I won't be able to drink it".

Everyone laughs.

*****

Like every day, my parents come to me at noon. They check if I am ok. We do little exchanges: I give them vegetables and they give me milk, I give them handmade cigarettes and they give me homemade bread. Things like that.

"Small wonder, I went to the mine and I've seen this guy", my dad says. "Also, I talked with Rudolf and Hans, the two Germans from Ganymede. He is someone important. He came here to help geological research and for sure he will move away. He only works at the for a limited time".

"Al I want is to help him. He is a sfenist".

"What?" say my parents amazed.

"It is not like that. He ran away from his world. Just as I did".

"Maybe my prays have been listened", says my mom.

"As long as he is here, I want to help him. You know what the Quran and the Bible both say. Helping others is important and is the purpose of my life".

"It is your life", says my dad. "Do what your heart tells you, but be careful".

My parents leave and I start doing house cleanup. I wash clothes in two plastic basins with my hands. Then I put his clothes in the kitchen, on the bed. And even more. I pick a skirt that is too large for me. Maybe this will make him happy.

At evening, as I wait the train to come, I start talking to my shadow:

"What do you thing this will lead to?"

"He won't leave" my shadow answers.

"So, he will remain here".

"I think so".

"Maybe I should also listen more to my heart. If a man can wear pantyhose, then I can do my wildest dreams. I am obsessed of green. How if I paint my hair in green?"

"Your parents will get angry".

"I don't care".

The train comes. We meet at the train platform and move to the house after I radio call nearby stations and let the train to go. There, I show him the washed clothes. surprised, he changes and takes the skirt. He looks somehow strange: half man, half woman. The upper part of his body is that of a man, but the lower part is of a woman. Only that I need to do something with his hair. That doesn't look good. But even so, he is amazed and thanks me for all this.

We eat together, on the bed, with our feet up. Our toes even touch one each other. All I see in his eyes is satisfaction, happiness. "This is, Ana! The reason you exist is to make people happy!" I say to myself. After I eat, I light a cigarette and give him one too.

"Please, Nicotiana, I don't smoke".

"You should", I answer.

"You know what smoking does to your body".

"I never believed that".

"But there are so many doctors saying this" he insists.

"I don't care. Neither should you".

"When you will be 70, you will see I am right".

"My grandparents have 80 and smoke and they are healthy. My great-grandparents smoked all their life and... one was shot, one died in a railway accident, none of smoking".

I take another cigarette and light it, then I put it between my toes. The image of pantyhose and cigarettes should turn his fetish on.

"I think our addictions could work together just fine", I say. "Just look. I have been wearing pantyhose always, to make you happy. Now you should start smoking for me... if you want to make me happy".

"I don't feel any attraction to smoking, even if holding a cigarette between your toes was amazing".

This makes me angry, but let's hide my anger. I have to be patient.

"suppose you drive a car" I say. "And the car starts moving out of the road. What do you do?"

"I turn the wheel in a different direction, to stay on the road".

"Very good. Now, the car is you, the road is your new path in life and I am the driver. Until you are ready to drive on your own, I will have to take sometimes the wheel to save you. This might make you anger, but in the end you will thank me".

"I won't be angry, even if you break a bottle of beer in my head" he sais and makes me laugh.

"We'll see. You are still at the beginning".

I take the cigarette from my toes and smoke what is left from it. Then I take another one and put it in his mouth. He doesn't want, but I look him with anger. He has to! But this is enough for today.

"You will smoke, like it or not! Nobody dared to oppose me in this question. I convinced so many people to start, you will not escape!" I say for myself.

Who knows what tomorrow the day will bring? There were already too many surprises for me... and for him. I start thinking that he will remain with me. But only if he starts smoking. If not, he has nothing to do with me, with Nicotiana. I cannot accept any failure about this. He might be the only male sfenist in these mountains, but I have lived a happy life alone too.

If he doesn't want to start smoking, I will make him taste the bitter like so many other guys, because I am Nicotiana. Half such a pleasant substance, that I cannot live without... and half such a deadly toxin that a few grams of pure nicotine can kill a person. His choice.