Evanescence 9

Chapter 9

I’m not sure how long I laid there just flipped out at what happened between me and Shaun. I mean it was awesome; it was great and messed up and weird with things bouncing around my head all at the same time. I mean this was Shaun who was my best friend and yeah I was really starting to like him as a girl would.

He just gave me a blow job.
It was a great blowjob.
But…WTF!!?

This is so messed up that it really hurts my head. THE Goddess is holding me, and is spooned against me in her Trans girl form. It’s really comforting to be held by her, it’s like she’s soothing all those other me’s that there are inside me all at the same time.
“Why did Shaun do that?”
“I think he likes you.”
“I know but he’s like a guy, I wanted him to like me as a girl.”
“Oh I think he likes you as a girl.”
“But he...he...”
“Gave you a blow job?”
“Yes!”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes...”
“That bothers you doesn’t it?”
“Yes because I feel like I’m a girl, I know I’m supposed to be that girl I feel like but Shaun sucking me like that…that was the old me, that was a boy thing.”
“It could have been.”
“It could have been what?”
“Raine it just could have been exactly what it was.”
“YOU’RE NOT TELLING ME ANYTHING! STOP BEING SO EFFING VAGUE!”
“Alright.”
“Alright what?”
SHE laughs at me, or rather behind me. Bitch…
Yeah, that just made HER giggle, effing mind reading… (Insert expletive.)
“Are YOU done?”
“Yes…look Raine; it just could have been a trans-girl getting a blowjob from her boyfriend. It doesn’t make her any more of a boy. She’s still a girl, a woman on the inside. I’m with all of you, from Miss America to the Meth-head hooker to the trans-girl who just had her first boyfriend give her head…even the trans-woman gals who’ll never pass or can’t pass and love their spouses as closet lesbians…if they have the heart and soul of a woman that’s all that matters. It’s all that ever matters.”
“Oh…”
“Get some sleep Raine; take a nap you’ve still got your date tonight with Shaun.”
“Okay…”
***
It’s raining out and I’m afraid.

We’ve been hearing the whoosh of American fighters and bombers all day as the war was coming to us again.

The Vietcong are my people but in nation only. Mostly these people are gathered by those who want power unto themselves. These Northern foreigners, these Russians and there is word of even the Chinese being the ones to bring this peoples army. I do not know what this communism is, or what it has to do with supplying arms to me who do not deserve to be in power of any kind.

They hide in my village and talk up our young people filling their heads full of false glory and sometimes, many times they take what they wish including us girls.

They mostly leave me alone because I am so ugly, I have scars on me from the poppy farms and a bad machete scar from when I fought one of the overseers when he would have taken me.

This is when SHE came to me.
SHE came to me and I lived.

I lived to walk half dead from the poppy fields to where the huts for my village healer lay three days on foot. He says I have Mana, that my spirit is unbreakable.

I truly wish this was the case.

Some of these freedom fighters are evil men, they do evil things. I offer myself to be taken and used instead of the younger girls from my village. They hurt me more than rape me, my scars are considered unlucky, offensive.

They hide here amongst those who have done nothing wrong. They dress like us. The Americans do not speak Vietnamese often or well. Often our headmen are forced to lie to them because of guns pointed at their families. Often these threats are made to various villagers often to get our young boys to start the shooting if they survive then they have killed and they are told the resistance is the only safe place for them. There are too many child soldiers…They made our boys shoot.

The Americans defend themselves but don’t know the full truth of it and they lose real comrades in arms as our dying children distract them to be shot by the Vietcong guerrillas.

The Americans lose people but lose tempers too and still are forced to pull out from our village. The Vietcong just know it too well.

I do not justify this horrible war here. Both sides are committing horrible acts of evil for what? I will never know. Politics, land?, drugs?...perhaps…but I have seen to red reflection of something demonic in the eyes of the Vietcong and the Americans, in the eyes of the worst of them…it’s not like the red from a camera flash either…I don’t know how I know but I just do…it’s not reflected this is from within.
I hear the whistle and scream of the bombs falling now all around us with the Americans taking out the suddenly violently pro-Vietcong stronghold… red eyes inside a radioman.

We all end up looking up to see our dooms coming down on us. It hits and everything, everything explodes and goes up in flames and its death and screaming and even as time slows for you just before death I see them…there is five of them and while the rest of us are dying and screaming the five with the red from the inside eyes look like they are praying…smiling, even as the napalm ignites the very air around us and we burn I see them, and the flames rolling off their still standing, still burning corpses have shapes.

Horns.
Hooves.
Tails.
Claws.
Wings.

Then death finds me and stands by me until SHE comes for me.
My Name, our Name was Ko.

***
I roll off of my bed and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe all I smell is grease and tar, no turpentine, no Napalm…napalm and this smell of burning meat, like some body was letting pork burn only is the pig had chicken skin…and the smell of burnt hair…I smell myself being burned alive and I smell burning human…I smell me burning.

I thrash on the floor my mouth and lungs locked in what is this seizure as I’m in two places at once. I break free…my lungs aren’t burned, my insides aren’t burned, I still have my eyes, they didn’t boil out of my sockets…I try and try and try…I reach out to the other versions of ourself and they pull us free of that death.

My scream is long and loud and tortured and I grab my tissue basket and use it for a puke bucket as I curl around it and go into the fetal position and bawl my eyes out and swear in perfect Vietnamese.

I’m like that for an hour before it’s our otherselves that yell, order and push us up to get cleaned up. I wet myself this time.

Getting cleaned up is another burst of the surreal. My scars are gone. It is so strange to look like a westerner woman. It is even stranger when I discover my sex. This pulls me more back into the now.

But I was Ko once, A Vietnamese young woman who had just been a poor farm girl who had been forced to work the poppy fields for opium, so heroin could be made. I had lots of bamboo scars from beatings and I had a machete scar that ran down my face from my right temple through to my left shoulder.

Memories flood me as I shower, like my slave self the soap, the shampoo and conditioner and the hot water feels like miracles to me.

I know how to speak and write Vietnamese, I know even more herb lore and stuff but oriental stuff from the my villages healer. I know lots about cooking, I know that it wasn’t just mankind pushing the atrocities in the Vietnam War…I seen them. I died but I seen them. And I know in my heart these were and aren’t the only wars and horribly things that they’ve made come about. The amount of suffering these things have instigated was just…is just staggering.

I can’t, I won’t just sit idly by anymore.

I’m done blow drying my hair which a lot of us love…Ko, Antonia, Joanna for us these things these treasures that we forget about, that are everyday things. It makes want to do something about that kind of thing too.

I have an internal argument with myselves as I get ready. I have several women living in my head as part of my mind and they have no problem sharing our opinions with myselves.

Are you feeling boggled and headachy from my devastation of personal pronouns, me too. It’s such a schizophrenic feeling having all of them each with their lives and experiences in me and yet each one of them is me. And of course we’re girls so we’re all talking at once.

You see why I’m a transgendered person? Any bit of manliness has run off screaming into the ether in the wake of my ever growing hen party.

I take an hour to sit on my bed and to meditate. In for a count of seven, hold for a count of seven, out for a count of seven. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth over and over each inhale I draw in power, free energy let it mix and stir my own like a current keeping a pool clean and clear.

It calms all of me down and they sink back into the background of myself and I finally feel better, I feel like Raine.

Somehow I’m actually ready on time. I don’t get too fancy with things either simple brushed out hair not really styled just little bare hints of eyeliner and a skiff of mascara wipe clean most so you can just say there’s something of the brush. A little earthy, pink skin toned lip pencil and paint and that’s it.

It’s kind of chilly tonight so it’s these knit looking leggings/stockings with a wide strapped denim dress and I wear this thing I made out of several old cast offs from the thrift store and that’s a slip but a flannel one like you’d see in a plaid shirt I cut it just like one of my camisoles but it’s really soft and warm and really girl next door.

Okay, I think it is. I like making my own clothes, several of me grew up sewing and doing just that. Part of me balks at the price for designer stuff I can make, will make.

I’m just getting my leather jacket when Shaun comes up to the door and knocks. He’s got more flowers for me. More stuff his mom grows but no charms on these ones. He knows I like my daisies though. I put these ones in water and on the kitchen table and move the first one’s the charmed ones into my room and on my night stand.
“Thank you for the flowers Shaun they’re sweet, I love daisies.”
“You always did, even back then.”
“Yep I was a chic even before I knew I was a chic.”
“So how come you can call yourself a chic and I can’t use that word.”
“Oh, that’s simple. It’s because I’m a chic.”

He gives me that guy patented that doesn’t make sense look that looks so cute in its own way. I lost him in woman logic; I’ve never really gotten that huh…? Look from talking or fighting to/with girls.

You want to get that look. Take a bunch or even just one guy and sit then down and make them watch The View. You’ll see it form in 3-10 minutes; some guys’ even look in pain. They might actually be too. I like that show, except for Elizabeth…right winged…you know what she is the cloned lesbian secret love child of Barbie and Ann Kolter.

Anyways…If I talk about either of them I’ll start thinking up curses and stuff.

Shaun leads me to his car escorting me with his hand touching the small of my back the whole time. He opens my door and makes sure the dress of my skirt doesn’t get caught the whole thing.

We got to dinner first and it’s not a fast food place either. He takes me to Holbrook’s which is like a nice place but not overly nice. You come in and get your own seat; there are places for you coats but no coat check. It’s kind of run of the mill but on the nice side of it, Shaun orders us up two of the prime rib specials and we get baked potatoes and green beans and a peppercorn gravy on the side? I’ve only usually done the horseradish thing but this Steak o Poivre thing is really good. We eat and even have sparkling cider to go with our food. I have a good time. I could get used to this too.

Shaun getting up when I go to the ladies room and when I come back too. Getting seated takes me some getting used to. Antonia…She was raised in such a way. I’m still enjoying that he’s doing it. Even paying for everything was really nice.

We actually went to see “The Disposables, that Stallone and other big actor trashy shoot en up thing. Shaun’s pleasantly surprised I want to see it. One I might be a trans-girl but my tastes in things haven’t gone away. I still play role-playing games, I have an X-box 360, I have a game cube because I love Metroid, and Zelda. I buy Manga books and fantasy and romantic fiction and fantasy books and all that geeky stuff. And two I’m not paying if it sucks I still got free snacks and popcorn. Besides it’s a better date if Shaun gets to see something he wants to see.

I’m getting checked out while I’m there by some guys and some of the other girls there because they don’t know me and even I’ll admit it. I pass, I do more than pass I’m all kinds of fine and that’s got to be part of this whole Evanescence thing.

Some of the guys look jealous that I want to go see the action movie. It seems I started something and a few others join us or copy us more that the ones who’d go see it anyway. I eat popcorn, drink just a little and I watch the movie. It was kinda blah, all those good action stars made it too much of a good thing. It didn’t suck but it would have made a good DVD rental to me rather than shell out theatre prices for that kind of show.

Russell Crowe’s Robin Hood was worth seeing in the theatre.

The majority of the girls talked all through the movie. I hate that, I hate that and I’ll never be that date.

After we end up going to the Dairy Queen like a lot of the other kids my age and Shaun’s age and we go in and see a lot of the kids from class. A couple of the girls see him and they perk up and wave.
“Hey Shaun…”
They see me with him and him holding the door open for me.
I kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks Shaun, A girl could get used to this.’
“I’ll definitely try to make in a habit Raine.” He kisses me lightly on the lips, then we make our way to the counter.
As we pass I hear them clucking amongst themselves, stuff like “Who’s that bitch?” and “Raine, she kinda of looks…” I guess it took maybe 3 minutes for them to get a clue. The place gets quiet. Then a buzz of whispers.
“That’s him…”
“No way, she couldn’t have been a dude.”
“Freak…”
“Faggot…”

And it went on and on.
It was getting under Shaun’s skin a little.
I was getting under theirs, a lot.
I sat and ate my triple hot fudge sundae and sucked slowly on my spoon. I watched two of my ex-girlfriends watching me with hate in their eyes. Kate the third on I had gone out with came over to me.
“Raine?”
“Hey Kate.” I stood and gave her a hug, she sort of returned it.
“Oh…wow, I guess the rumors were true…you are like gay and everything.”
“Nope, I like guys. If I was gay I’d be hitting on you.”
“Uhm…but you were born a boy?”
“Yeah, and some people get born with extra toes or other stuff they get fixed.”
“But your sex isn’t something you can fix, not really..”
“Not like genetics and stuff but the rest, yeah I was already a girl anyway in my brain and my soul and stuff.”
“Oh…But what about the bible?”
“It doesn’t really apply to me.”
“But it applies to everyone.”
“Nope, there’s tons of other religions out there.”
“So you don’t believe in god?”
“Oh yeah, I really believe in him I just don’t believe in the versions that humanity has put forth.”
“Uhm, Why?”
“People Kate, people suck and they did back then too. People wrote it, people changed it and 1/3rd of it is pretty much useless garbage.”
I can see I’m pissing off some of the churchy types, I can recognize the burn the witch look really good now a days.

I get ready to go and Shaun’s helping me with my jacket of when I see a girl I’ve never seen come in…they’re drop dead beautiful with alabaster skin and shining blonde hair that…it’s really pretty, she’s pretty, huge blue eyes, a sundress under a buckskin jacket…Every guy…actually most of us are getting hot…she’s up at the counter fishing through and counting this tiny handful of change.

Then her aura or something hits me. Darkness, I smell blood, lots and lots of blood, dead flowers…? I take a look at her…I recognize her… Joanna does, my slave south…Miss Alicia…I know it’s her…and she’s pulling the same act as she did then.

Helpless Damsel.

I go to the counter beside her. I flare my power so she can really feel me. I speak in French to her but the French Antonia had learned from her tutors. “You keep this quiet Alicia, No killing them, no turning them and we’ll get along fine. You pull a Birmingham and I’ll have a new scarecrow.”

I leave before things turn violent or potentially violent.
Fucking Vampires.