Summer's End Part 9 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...

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.

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?! »

Chapter 19:

Late October, Sunday, 00:30.

"Crystal? Crystal?! What's wrong...? You look like you've just seen a ghost..."

In a very small voice, I said, "Angela? Do you see those guys over there... hanging out by the pool table? Especially the guy walking away towards the bar?"

She looked, then turned back to me with an inquiring expression.

"It's Luke, Michelle. One of the guys from that night... back in July."

Rage flashed across her face, as she started towards him... her hands contracting into hard fists. "I'll kill him!"

For just a brief moment, the insanity of petite Angela attempting to kill someone Luke's size with her bare hands made me smile... although it quickly faded away.  «Whoa. Where did *that* come from? A bit of bottled up rage from her own abuse? Funny... threaten *her*, and she will just take it. Threaten someone *else* that she cares about, though... and watch out for her temper! »

I started, reaching out for her arm. "NO! Wait, Angela! That wasn't what I meant, at *all*. Please don't do anything rash..."

For a timeless moment, our eyes locked with each others... before she broke her vision away from mine, and stopped pulling against my arm. "But... what... do you want me to call the cops?"

"Please, no... I just was wondering if you could... like... keep an _eye_ on me, for a few minutes? I want... no. I *need* to go talk to him for just a bit, okay? And while I *don't* want you to come with me... I would sort of feel better, if I knew you were watching...?"

I could tell from the look in her eyes, that she had serious doubts about letting me do that... although all she said was, "Are you *sure* you wanna do that?"

"Yes Angela, it is something I *have* to do..."

 «Face your fears, girl. You need to do this, if you are going to get past this... »

Sunday, 00:33.

My hands were quivering slightly, as they tend to do when adrenalin is really pounding in my veins... which no doubt also explained the racing of my heart, and my shortness of breath. Standing only a few feet behind him near the bar, I tried to speak... but could not, as dry as my mouth had become, with what felt like a huge knot in my thoat.

Finally, after clearing my throat more than once, I managed to softly call out, "Luke? Is that you?"

I had almost given up... thought he had either not heard me over the club's music, or else it was not really Luke. But just as I was getting ready to back away... he turned to face me. For a moment, he just looked puzzled... before letting a smile spread over his face.

"Well hello, honey. Do I know you?"

Belatedly remembering the witch's mask I was wearing, I reached up and pulled that off over my head.  «Ouch. Idiot. Next time use your *left* arm... »

His smile slowly faded, as if he were trying to place me. Not surprising, I suppose -- the black hair dye and witch's costume no doubt had really changed my appearance.

"Remember me, Luke? The girl in the red and black dress, from that night back in July?"

He started to shake his head 'no'... then froze, his eyes and nostrils flaring just a tiny bit. Recognition. His friendly expression briefly flashed something else... panic?... then hardened into a firmer head-shake, and a frown.

"Lady, I have _no_ idea who you are... I don't think we've ever met." The faint glistening of thin, instant sweat on his brow, suggested otherwise...

A forced, coldly dubious smile flickered over my own face for a moment, as I just looked at him... hard. "Really. That's funny... despite the drugs I was given that night, I still remember *you* just fine..."

Perhaps a mistake, mentioning drugs. He simply sneered, "Sorry, I don't do drugs... and I don't hang with those who do. Why don't you just go shoot up somewhere, and stop bothering me..."

Rolling my eyes slightly, I bit back several cutting replies that flashed through my mind... settling instead on just giving my head a small shake, then saying simply, "Luke? Just chill, okay? I'm not here to make a scene... or call the cops. I just wanted to say, 'Thank you', for what you tried to do that night..."

 «Okay, *that* took the wind out of his sails... »

He visibly swallowed, goldfishing for a moment as he tried to find words... *any* words. "I'm... sorry. I mean, *really* sorry. I wasn't there... but I heard what happened, later on. I *knew* what they were going to do... *had* done to you... but... I hafta *work* with those guys, every day -- in a job where accidents happen *real* easily. Sometimes, fatal accidents. I just... I mean... "

Words failed him again, although the look in his eyes said volumes more.

With a slightly shaky breath, I forced a tremulous smile. "It's okay, really. I understand."

I looked down for a bit, before fixing him with my eyes again. "I only wish I had accepted your offer, and gone with you instead..."

I shrugged, then walked away. Although I would be lying if I did not admit that something horrid was crawling up my spine, the whole time my back was turned to him...

Sunday, 00:38.

As I walked back towards the bar corner where Angela was waiting... looking more and more confused, as I walked away from Luke.

"Crystal? What gives?!"

"What? You were expecting me to maybe cast some sort of spell on him, or something? Turn him into a frog, or maybe a woman -- who might have to actually experience what they put me through? Please... I wouldn't wish *that* fate on my worst enemy..."

I just shook my head, while idly reaching for the bar tray of free nibbles. As an aside, I interjected, "Umm, have you tried one of these little red fish? They're quite tasty..."

Giving my head another shake, I returned to my prior point. "Real magic doesn't work like that, Angela. Wicca is a very personalized faith... and I know what I am about to say doesn't apply to all wicce, but for me... it's just rituals... ways of focusing _myself_, to aid myself in accomplishing things. For example, a couple times lately I have worked an ancient spell... a charm against Demons in the Night. I don't *really* believe in demons, though. It's just a metaphor... a way of talking to my own subconscious mind, coping with my nightmares. A psychological trick, to help me set my fears behind me, and function better."

Staring off into the distance, I added, "Besides... even for those Wicce who *do* believe that magic is more than that... being Wicce is not about casting curses and things -- regardless of any Halloween stories you might have read. Wicce believe in the 'Law of Three' karmic return -- that when you cast something like that, it will come back at you three times worse. A curse is *not* something *any* witch would lightly cast... although sometimes it is necessary to sacrifice oneself for the greater good..."

Pausing for a shaky breath, I added. "Over the centuries, many practitioners of the Craft were healers... mid-wives... that sort of thing. The Path is something each person defines for themselves... so what I am about to say may not apply to everyone... but for me, it is more about achieving harmony and balance within nature... and yourself. 'Thou art goddess.' Witches do not worship a 'supreme being', whether good *or* bad. They believe in a single power that is composed of *everything*, and *everybody*. A supreme energy force that does not rule over the Universe -- it *is* the universe... and everything in it." I snorted. "Sort of what George Lucas was probably basing his ideas on, for his modern-day 'force', from Star Wars. Whatever. I'm preaching, and Wicca is not a faith that ever looks for converts... it's believers come to it of their own volition, not because someone tried to convince them to follow this path..."

I paused for a bit again, thinking. "Even if magic *did* work like that... why would I bother? When I was a child, my youngest sibling was murdered... and the case is still official open, regardless of what some of my family thinks might have happened. And as the youngest surviving child, my older brothers did not even share their thoughts with me, until many years later -- I grew up simply not having a clue who killed my sibling. So many people talk about how they 'need' someone to be punished, before they can experience 'closure'... but that does not match my own experience. I mourned my sibling for a while... and then I simply moved on. *Without* anyone ever being charged with my sibling's death, or knowing who did it."

I flared my eyes a bit for emphasis, looking at her. "Closure is something that comes from *within* you... not from external events. Punishing someone else might be necessary from a societal point of view... but you should never *depend* on it, *counting* on it to somehow make you feel better. If you do, you are just setting yourself up for disappointment. Punishing *yourself* far more than the criminal..."

I chewed on my lower lip for a moment. "It's the same thing with this rape. Soon after it happened, a man told me: 'There is nothing you can do about it, now. It's over. Just forget it, and move on.' At the time, I was extremely hurt by that... *infuriated* that he could be that insensitive. But much as I hate to admit it... he was right. Or at least, partly right. You never really forget... but you *do* have to move on with your life. Dwelling on these things accomplishes nothing except to keep yourself hurting, *years* after you should have healed.

"That was what tonight was about, for me. Why I felt I had to talk to Luke. Closure. Will they ever be punished? Who cares? I don't. I suppose a part of me hopes karma will eventually catch up to these characters, if only so that they can't hurt anyone else... but whatever happens, it won't really help me in the slightest. It's better I simply set this all aside, and move on..."

I smiled, slightly. "Besides... Luke was never the really evil one. I suppose he might have tried a little harder to rescue me, than he did... but really, his only crime was to stand back and let the others get away with their plan. I am more thankful that he even *tried* to help, even if unsuccessfully, rather than feel he should be punished for not trying harder."

My wistful smile turned into a hard grin. "Now the _other_ guys... *those* I would shed no tears for, if they accidentally stepped in front of bus. But Luke... Luke I can understand."

With a slight toss of my head towards the dance floor, I added, "Come on... let's go have some fun. Life is too short to waste it dwelling on the past..."

Year's End (Samhain), October 31, nightfall.

Angela was away this evening... visiting with her children. As I knelt alone in our darkened living room, I lit a single candle... placing it on the window sill. Although it has absolutely nothing to do with Wiccan traditions, on quiet moments like this there is a passage I sometimes like to read and reflect on. Science fiction, from an episode of an old television series... the words were originally from a short speech by a character from Babylon 5, "Ambassador Delenn", given on the eve of war:

Epilogue:

I have lost track of Michelle, in the years since these events happened. The last I heard, she had made it off the streets... and was working as an accountant, happily married to the man I introduced her to. She will probably never pass well enough to go stealth... but that doesn't matter. She *has* learned how to behave, such that other women accept her... and has found her niche in life, where she is socially accepted.

Kristine was always more Michelle's friend than mine. I never knew her phone number... so I lost track of her even sooner, barely a few months later, when she left the shelter without saying good-bye to me. Sometimes I wonder if she made it, or not... but I doubt I will ever know.

Angela? I also don't really know... she was never one for writing, or returning phone calls. I lost track of her, too... much sooner than Michelle. I know her decision to have an abortion haunted her for a long time, afterwards, despite her being convinced it was the right thing to do. All I can say is, the last I heard, she was still trying hard to stay clean... and it looked like she was going to make it.

Myself? It took me another ten months before I left that shelter for the last time... but eventually, I was able to do so, and move to another community -- where I was able to return to living 'stealth'. With the help of a government grant, I eventually went back to medical school, before working in a Children's Hospital for a time... until the constant tragedies of sick children dying grew too much for me to bear. After that, I went back to an earlier calling of mine, working with special needs and gifted school children. Socially, I eventually met a wonderful older man, and now I am happily married to him... with two step-daughters from his first marriage... a new car... and a house with a white picket fence.

My shoulder? That never really fully healed... I guess I just damaged it too much, too often, during those eventful months when I was forced to use it w-a-y too much. Oh, well. At least now that I am married, it is not a problem to get help undressing, on bad days when my shoulder flares up yet again. Smile. Although my husband never fails to extract a 'toll' for his help... much to our mutual fun.

Life is never "happily ever after", of course. I have faced many new challenges in the years since that fateful summer and fall... but that is only to be expected... and that is another story.

Never give up on your dreams, no matter how bad things get. *Make* them come true.

Author's Afterword: Although this story is loosely based on a highly fictionalized combination of the experiences of several real people... as many readers have probably guessed, many parts of this come from my own personal memories of that troubling time -- with a few major embellishments added just for fun. Embellishments such as my pretending (both as 'Crystal' in parts of this story, and in my comments while posting this story) to be a witch. Grin. I played around with Wicca in my youth folks... and still remember a fair bit about it. I even still try to live by some of its values. But... my pretending to actually *be* a witch was just a Halloween Trick, done in search of a Treat...

Some of the characters portrayed in this are at least partly based on real people... others are entirely fictional. Most of the names used in this story have been changed... but not all. Luke? Are you out there? If you read this... thanks again, for what you tried to do...

Good night, all. Sweet Dreams.