So here I am again. My muse and the other voices in my head are fickle, evil people, and aside from my Halloween contest story
won't allow me a moment of peace till I write this. So here it is, inflicted upon you to show you all that I am in fact, still alive. Standard disclaimers apply of course.

A new epic (and I do mean that in the true sense of the word) whateley style.

Sydney Moya

 © 2013

Chapter 8

Masks Chapter 6

*Before…

I’m partly excited and I’m partly bracing myself to be jealous and I go with her upstairs.

I feel better than I did…opening up and helping each other even if it’s not all the way it’s helped, the clothes are helping heck being in an exclusively female home helps.

I’m not into the spiritual stuff that much because I can’t it’s guyboden but there is a female energy to the house.

I…okay M.J. bedroom door has these little tole-painted flowers around the old moulding for the door and she has a dream catcher hanging there in the middle of the door. It’s cool already.

*And Now…

Halloween at the Second Story Store

Author's note: The Second Story Store is an open universe, so if you like the idea; contribute!

It all started Halloween night a year ago. My sister, Lisa, and I were out Trick-or- Treating. We had begged our parents to let us go as Disney Princess characters for our final year, as we had turned 10 and 11 and were getting too old for it. I wanted to be Cinderella and Lisa wanted to be Jasmine. My parents weren't all that thrilled that I wanted to be a girl again, but they had gotten used to the same request since I was 4 years old and Lisa was 5. I knew that I should have been born a girl since I was old enough to talk.

Masks Chapter 5

*Before…

“I…” Part of me is wildly looking for an excuse and the other part is waking up like the real me curled up crying inside just say someone open up the drapes inside the dark room I’ve been trapped in and I…I can maybe…maybe just take a chance…look outside…be me…?

“Okay…okay…”

I can do this right?

“Good the bathroom is upstairs and on the left.”

I head up and I’m shaking…I look at myself in the mirror and I take the wig out of my jacket pocket and shake it loose and try to get it to look okay and I get undressed and stare at myself…not at this stranger that only sort of looks like me in the mirror and then mask falls off and I grab a towel and I start crying into it to muffle the way that everything feels right now.

That’s not me looking back at me.

*And Now…