Six Forty-Five Part 1

The day before everything went crazy, I lay in bed, watching my alarm clock as it hit six forty-five. I knew that in five minutes my alarm would be going off, so it was useless to try and fall back to sleep, and yet I was in no hurry to leave the warmth of my bed. I know that for most people, it would be pretty weird to have your alarm set for ten to the hour instead of on the hour or on the half-hour, but I have a lot of little quirks like that, and most of them dont make any sense, even to me.

Finally, I sighed, and got out of bed.

I started getting dressed, which for me involves a very specific routine I HAVE to follow, or I get super-anxious. I always get dressed socks first, then underwear, then pants, and lastly shirt. I cant seem to mix up that order if I want to stay calm.

I do my teeth, and go down to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. As usual, nobody else is around, so I just have cereal. My mom and step-dad both have jobs that start early in the morning, so I take care of myself, like I’ve been doing for the last couple of years.

“You’re a big boy, sweetie. I trust you to take care of things.” Is what my mom told me, and I dont ever want to let her down.

I do that often enough.

Once I’m done, I put back the cereal and milk where they belong and rinse out my bowl and put it in the sink. I do a quick check to make sure I haven’t left a mess, and then I grab my jacket and start heading toward school.

As always, I’m the first one there. Sometimes, I have to wait until the janitor comes to unlock the door, but I dont mind.

He never says much to me, just unlocks the door and goes in, and lets me do my thing. We’ve been doing this routine since I was in grade seven, and so by now, two years later, there aren’t a lot of surprises in it for either of us.

I’m not fond of surprises.

Once inside, I do a circuit of the whole building. I go down the hallways, and into some rooms. One of the rooms I always go into is the girl’s change room to get to the gym, even though I’m a boy.

The first day I was here, I was afraid I’d get in trouble going where no boy goes, but not going through the change room made me hyperventilate, and in any case there’s nobody here to get mad at me anyway, so I just go in.

Its honestly not anything special, not really different from the boy’s change room I use for gym, except that there are spare cheer uniforms hung up inside. I touch the skirt of one, feeling the fabric, and then put it back on the hanger.

I ache to put it on, but I cant.

Bad things happen to boys who wear skirts.

I do a circle of the gym, and go back through the girl’s change room to get back to the hallway.

I never visit the boy’s room except when its gym time.

I go back down the hall, and stop at the door of my first class for the day. I sit down with the door to my back, and pull a book out of my bag, and start to read.

I read until the teacher comes to let me into the class. I love reading, especially fantasy and science fiction books. I have a special library card that lets me use the adult section of my local library, and I’m working my way through their entire collection.

Again.

The day before everything went crazy was a pretty typical day for me. I get kicked, punched, and tripped pretty much every time a teacher isnt watching over me. I also get reminded how much of a sissy freak fag I am, in case I might have forgotten since yesterday.

At lunchtime, I sit in my little corner of the lunchroom, near the teacher responsible for watching over us. As always, no one sits on either side of me.

Whatever I’ve got, apparently they think its catching.

The day drags to an end, and I quickly walk home, and for once I make it there without getting beat up.

At suppertime, my step-dad does his usual, and yells at me for not being more manly.

Like I hadn’t tried.

Like I enjoy being a sissy fag freak.

Finally, I stared crying, and run to my room. I shout “I wish you all would just GO AWAY!” and slammed the door.

I cried myself to sleep, not realizing that the next day would be the day everything went crazy.

*****

Six Forty-Five, Part 2:

The day everything went crazy started off seeming no different than the day before.

I woke at six forty-five, got out of bed, and got dressed, socks, underwear, pants, and then shirt, just like every day. I did my teeth and ate my breakfast and walked to school in the morning twilight. I didnt see the janitor, but I tried the door, and it opened.

Nothing seemed different until I was sitting in front of my classroom door, reading. I glanced at the school clock, and noticed it read “Six forty-five.” I watched it for a while, and realized it wasnt moving. I shrugged. I figured it was probably just a blown fuse, or something.

Then I checked my watch.

It also said “Six Forty-five.”

I put the watch to my ear, and couldnt hear anything.

Then I started to get anxious. I dont like not knowing what time it is. I started tapping my fingers with my thumb, which sometimes helps.

It helped a bit, but I could feel my anxiety swirling within me.

I tried to get back to my book, but I could feel my throat tightening. I knew I would have to do something soon, or I would be in real trouble.

Desperate, I tried to think of anything that might help me cope, and a very strange idea came into my head. I went down the hall, and into the girl’s change room.

I didn’t dare hesitate, I undressed, and put on the cheer uniform.

Immediately, I felt better.

But I knew it couldn’t last. Someone would come into the school, find me in the skirt, and then bad things would happen.

And yet the idea of putting on my own clothes brought back my anxiety.

Finally, not knowing what else to do,, I decided to go to the principle's office. I figured, that way, when someone came, I would have the best chance of having an authority figure nearby.

Not that I had much hope of explaining what happened to me.

i took out the book I had been reading, and got back into the story.

It wasnt until I finished the book that I finally decided no one was going to come.

I thought about the wish I had made.

Could I have really wished everyone away? And what was I supposed to do if I had?

Normally, I was totally dependent on routine - going to school, home, and back again. But, thanks to the skirt, for the first time I felt confident enough that I could actually do anything I wanted to.

But what did I want?

To be a girl?

Or at least as close as I could get?

After all, if there wasn’t anyone around, nothing bad could happen to me for doing it.

But why would I want that?

So much about me didnt make any sense. Why was I so anxious all the time? Why did I need to feel safe in routine? And why did I suddenly feel better dressed in a skirt?

Something had happened to me, didn’t it?

But what, and why didn’t I remember it?

If people had been around, I could have tried to ask someone, maybe the school councilor. But without others, how could I solve the mystery?

Then it hit me. I had lost memory. What did my mother tell me to do if I lost something?

Retrace my steps.

So where could be the last place I knew I had it?

I had been like this for at least since I started junior high. So what was before that?

“Elementary, my dear Watson.” I said aloud, and giggled at my joke.

Still wearing the cheer uniform, I left the school, and headed for my old one.

When I stepped outside, I saw that the sun hadn’t moved since I had come to school, which had to have been more than an hour ago.

A thought came to me, based on all the science-fiction stories I had read.

I was between moments.

Somehow, I was stuck at six forty-five.

That might explain where everyone else was. They were in normal time, and I wasnt.

“One mystery at a time.”

Everything was still, and quiet. For the first time, I realized how much noise is around me all the time. Something I couldnt have realized until it was gone.

I kept walking until I was in my old neighborhood. We had left here right after I had graduated from the elementary, but I still remembered where things were.

Shortly, I was at the door to my old elementary school, and suddenly started to feel afraid.

Something bad had happened in here.

I didnt think I was strong enough to face it, at least not yet.

But how could I get stronger?

“Well, if being in a skirt helps me, what if I was wearing all girl clothes?”

There was a mall across the street from the school, so I headed there. When I got there, it occurred to me to wonder how I was going to get in.

I tried the door, and was surprised to find it unlocked.

I went in, and strolled from shop to shop, trying to find what I was looking for. I started in a store that sold women’s underwear, and after a few tries, found a pair of panties that would fit me. Then, I added a bra, and wondered why I knew how to put one on so well.

Then it hit me, I had worn one before.

And somehow forgot it.

I added some nylons to my outfit, and then left that store to find the next items on my list.

Heels.

Once I put a pair on, I was almost not surprised to discover I knew how to walk in them.

Soon, I was done, and as prepared as I could be to go back across the street to the school.

I glanced at the rather pretty young woman a mirror, and took a breath.

“Here goes.”

Six Forty-Five, Part 3.

Author's caution. There is an assault alluded to in this part. Please read with care.

I crossed the street, my new heels clicking. I was a little scared, but in this outfit, I felt much more like a grown-up, and with that extra confidence, I was able to go inside my old elementary.

The door was unlocked, so I let myself in.

“Now where?”

I tried to remember this place, but it was fuzzy. Then I saw a classroom open, and on the teacher’s desk was a pair of heels, not much different from the ones I was now wearing. I went inside, and looked closely at the heels, and then I touched them.

“GNIRRRR”

I looked up, startled at the sound. Then I heard the sounds of children coming into the school.

I was trapped, and dressed like a girl.

A very pretty woman came into the classroom, backwards. She hung a coat on the hanger, and came over to the desk. She took the heels, sat down, and changed into them, putting a pair of runners under the desk.

She didnt say anything to me, even as I stood there frozen.

Then kids started coming into the classroom, all of them moving backwards. None of them seemed to pay any attention to me, but only found their seats.

Then the last kid entered the class, and I recognised who it was even coming in reverse.

It was me.

I tried to get “his” attention, but he walked right through me like I wasn’t even there.

“Okay, so this is the past. They cant see or hear me.” I guessed.

I looked at my younger self as he found his chair. He was twitching, and had a hollow look in his eyes that worried me.

“How is it that I could have looked this bad, and yet nobody seemed to notice?”

Things seemed to blur, and it reminded me of watching a video rewind at super speed. Things then slowed, and I looked again at the boy I used to be.

He looked a hundred times worse.

“Whatever happened must have just happened.”

The bell rang backwards, and the students started to leave the class. Things blurred again, then I saw my younger self sneak into the classroom early, and I realized everything was going forward again.

To my amazement, he went to the teacher’s desk, opened up a large drawer, and pulled out a dress. Under his male clothes he was wearing a bra and panties, and even hose. He slipped into the dress, and lastly put on the heels that had been sitting on the desk.

He had done all this without any emotion at all, almost like he was a robot. Almost as soon as he was done dressing, the teacher came into the classroom, and locked the door behind her.

The look on her face was beyond evil.

I fled the scene, walking right through the closed door, unable to watch.

I went outside, and tried to control my breathing. Then I looked around me, and realized I was back in my no-time place, and I was alone.

So nobody could hear me sobbing.
Once my tears had run out, I tried to put the pieces together of what had happened. Why had the teacher done such a thing? Why had I gone along with it?

There was only one way to know the truth, and that was to go back in there. I got up, went back inside the building, and stopped at a girls bathroom.

Going inside, I cleaned my face and fixed the makeup I had applied at the mall. Once again I was staggered by the girl in the mirror, she looked ... beautiful.

And strong.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

I went back to the classroom, and found a bizarre scene. It looked like a frozen tableau of just after ... what had happened to me. My younger self was back in her male clothes, and the teacher was in the act of unlocking the door.

I looked at my younger self, and had this urge to take this poor child into my arms, and tell her how sorry I was that this horrible thing had happened to her. Then I turned to this ... person who had taken something precious from me.

I wanted to hate her, to hurt her.

“You were the best teacher in our school. A beautiful, bright woman loved by all your students. And yet that wasn’t enough for you? You had to do this, to me?”

Then I looked at her more carefully.

And felt something like pity for her.

“What had happened to you, to make you this way?”

Then I said the hardest three words I had ever said to anyone.

“I forgive you.”

And just like that, I found myself back in my own bed.

The clock said, “Six forty-five.”

Then after what felt like an eternity, it changed to six forty-six.

It was over.

I got up, and changed my routine order of getting dressed, just because I could.

I did my teeth, and went and ate breakfast. I waited for a while, and then went to school. That day, I found myself smiling at people, even the people who bullied me, which freaked them out to no end.

After school, I came home, and helped my step-dad in the garage, even though I didn’t care too much about cars.

When I was about to go to bed, I asked my mother to come into my room for a moment.

Once she was in, I took a breath, and said, “Mom, I’ve got some things to tell you.”

When I finished, she hugged me tight, and promised me she would get me whatever help I needed

“And if it turns out you need to be a girl, I’ll.... I’ll support you.” she said.

“Thanks, mom, love you.”

“Love you too.”

I slept better than I ever had before.

Six Forty-Five, Part 4: Epilogue

Things didnt get better right away. I still got bullied at school, and at home was stuck in the middle of several fights between my mom and my step-father. I also had to cope with flashbacks so bad that sometimes, all I wanted to do was cry or throw up, or maybe both.

But by summer, once the doctors had finished poking around in my head, they made the pronouncement - I was a girl.

Just one with a little bit of misplaced skin between my legs.

With that piece of information at her disposal, my mother laid down the law with my step-father. He could accept me as her daughter, or he could leave.
Sadly, he chose the latter, but at least the tension at home was gone.

Mom and I started building up a girl wardrobe for me, slowly over the summer, and in the fall I started in a brand-new high school that had been created just for gay, lesbian, and transgender kids.

At first I went a little overboard with the feminine, but as I got more comfortable with myself, I pretty much dressed not much different than any other girl my age would.

I knew who I was, and that’s what really mattered.

They started me on testosterone blockers, and then, after I jumped through a few hoops health wise, they gave me female hormones.

And I started to .... blossom.

I had some anxiety over my orientation, because it turns out I’m a total lesbian, which took some getting used to. But finally, my therapist convinced me I wasn’t less of a girl, just because I also liked them.

That I was okay, just as I was.

With that, I carefully started to work up to having an actual date with one of my classmates, and things went well.

We’re kinda an item, now.

We’re looking forward to my surgery, and thanks to living in a civilized country, we can get married even after I’m legally a girl.

I’m looking forward now, and not back.

And the future looks pretty darn good.

Fin.