Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 1: The Collapse

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Delores' moment of greatest despair demand her soul, her life, her all?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here.

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 1: The Collapse
The cold marble floor of Hartwell & Associates pressed against Delores's cheek as she lay curled in the hallway, her body shaking with sobs that seemed to tear from the deepest part of her soul. The legal documents scattered around her like fallen leaves—pages of dense text that had just shattered her world with a few carefully crafted clauses that erased not just her identity, but her very existence.

"To receive the full inheritance as outlined in Section 4.2, the beneficiary must provide documented evidence of a monogamous heterosexual relationship, specifically a valid marriage certificate recognized by the state of Georgia. Furthermore, said beneficiary must be living in accordance with their birth-assigned gender as recorded on their original birth certificate."

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable a fresh wound. Timothy. They had written Timothy in the legal documents, as if the sixteen years she had lived as Delores meant nothing. As if the woman she had fought to become was just a phase, a delusion, something that could be erased with the stroke of a lawyer's pen.

After everything—the years of struggle to live authentically, the courage it had taken to transition at eighteen the moment she was legally free to do so, the hope that maybe, just maybe, her parents had found some measure of acceptance before their deaths—this. This legal trap that reduced her identity to a birth certificate, her truth to a lie they had forced her to live for the first eighteen years of her life.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you alright?" The voice belonged to a young paralegal who had emerged from one of the offices, her heels clicking uncertainly on the marble. "Should I call someone?"

Delores forced herself to sit up, her back against the cool wall. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing mascara across her cheek. "I'm fine," she whispered, though the words felt like the same lies she'd been forced to tell as a child. "Just... processing some news."

The paralegal's expression softened with recognition—she'd probably seen this scene before, families torn apart by the cold machinery of probate law. But had she ever seen someone's entire existence legally negated? Had she ever witnessed the moment when parents reached from beyond the grave to deny their child's fundamental truth?

"Can I get you some water? Or maybe call your attorney?"

"No, thank you." Delores began gathering the scattered papers with trembling hands. Each page felt heavier than it should, weighted with the implications of what she'd just learned. Her parents, even in death, had found a way to punish her not just for loving women, but for daring to live as the daughter she had always been inside.

As she stood, her legs unsteady, Delores caught her reflection in the polished surface of the elevator doors. The woman looking back at her was real—more real than Timothy had ever been. This wasn't some costume or performance. This was who she had fought sixteen years to become, who she had been in her heart since childhood, even when forced to play the role of a son who never truly existed.

But those memories of pretending felt like they belonged to someone else now. Someone who had sat at her father's feet listening to bedtime stories while screaming inside that she wasn't the little boy everyone saw. Someone who had helped her mother bake cookies for church socials while dying a little more each day from having to hide her truth.

The elevator chimed softly as it arrived, and Delores stepped inside, clutching the legal papers to her chest like evidence of a crime. As the doors closed, she caught a glimpse of the paralegal still watching her with concern, and she managed a weak smile of gratitude.

Alone in the descending elevator, Delores closed her eyes and tried to breathe. The inheritance had never been about the money—not really. It had been about belonging, about being seen as their daughter rather than the ghost of a son who had never existed. Her parents had left her something, yes, but it was a pittance compared to what Craig and Beau would receive. The message was clear: Timothy was our child. You are not.

The elevator reached the ground floor with a gentle bump, and the doors slid open to reveal the busy lobby of the office building. People hurried past, absorbed in their own lives, their own dramas. None of them knew that Delores's very existence had just been legally challenged, that thirty-four years of life—sixteen of them lived authentically—had been reduced to a birth certificate that had never told the truth about who she was.

She walked through the lobby on unsteady legs, past the security desk and through the revolving door into the humid Georgia afternoon. The sun felt too bright, the air too thick. Everything seemed surreal, as if she were moving through the same nightmare she'd lived for the first eighteen years of her life—the nightmare of being seen as someone she wasn't.

Standing on the sidewalk, Delores pulled out her phone with shaking hands. She scrolled through her contacts, looking for someone to call, someone who might understand. But who could she tell? Who would care that her parents had found one final way to deny not just her choices, but her fundamental truth?

Her thumb hovered over Beau's number. Her younger brother, the one who had always been gentler than Craig, who had struggled with her transition but had at least tried to use her chosen name sometimes. But Beau was overseas, working security for some contractor in Iraq, and she couldn't burden him with this. Not when he was so far away, not when he was dealing with his own struggles about faith and family and what it meant to love someone whose very existence challenged everything he'd been taught.

Craig's number was there too, but calling him would be pointless. He was probably already celebrating, already calculating how much larger his share would be if he could successfully argue that Timothy was dead and Delores was just an imposter trying to claim a dead man's inheritance. The thought made her stomach turn.

Instead, she found herself dialing her therapist's office, but it went straight to voicemail. Dr. Martinez was probably with another patient, helping someone else navigate the treacherous waters of family rejection and identity denial.

"Dr. Martinez, it's Delores," she said after the beep, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to talk. The will reading was today, and..." Her voice broke. "They're saying I'm not real. They're saying Timothy was their child, and I'm just... I don't know what they think I am."

She ended the call and stood there on the sidewalk, people flowing around her like water around a stone. The weight of the legal papers in her hands felt enormous, as if they contained not just words but the accumulated denial of a lifetime.

A memory surfaced unbidden: Christmas morning when she was eight years old, before she understood why the pretty dresses under the tree were never for her. Her father had lifted Timothy onto his shoulders to place the star on top of the tree, and her mother had clapped and said, "Perfect, son. Just perfect." But even then, even at eight, she had known it was wrong. She wasn't their son. She had never been their son, no matter how hard they had all pretended.

That little boy had been a performance, a lie they had all agreed to live. In his place stood a woman who had fought for every inch of authenticity, who had endured stares and whispers and worse, who had built a life of truth despite the cost. And yet, here she was, reduced to tears on a sidewalk because her parents had found one last way to tell her that the lie had been more real to them than she ever was.

Delores took a shuddering breath and looked up at the sky, where clouds were gathering for an afternoon thunderstorm. Maybe that was fitting. Maybe the weather should match the storm inside her heart.

"THE ONE," she whispered, using the name for the divine that felt most honest to her now, most inclusive of all the searching she'd done. "THE ONE, I don't know what to do with this. I don't know how to prove I'm real when they've decided I'm not."

The words felt small against the vastness of her hurt, but they were all she had. She folded the legal papers carefully and put them in her purse, then began the long walk to her car. Each step felt like a choice—to keep going, to keep fighting, to refuse to let this final denial erase the truth of who she was.

But as she walked, one thought kept echoing in her mind: How do you prove you exist to people who have already decided you don't?

The answer, she realized, might demand not just her soul, her life, her all—but the courage to live so authentically that even death couldn't diminish her truth.

Timothy had never existed, not really. But Delores was real, and she would not be erased.

Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 2: Echoes of Before

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Delores cope with the final evidence in the will that her parents did not see her or love her enough to let go of their fear?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 2: Echoes of Before

The rain had started by the time Delores reached her apartment, fat droplets that matched the tears still threatening to spill from her eyes. She fumbled with her keys at the door, her hands still trembling from the afternoon's devastation. The familiar weight of her purse felt different now, heavy with the legal documents that had just redefined her existence—or rather, denied it entirely.

Inside her small but carefully curated space, Delores dropped her purse by the door and leaned against it, finally allowing herself to breathe. The apartment was her sanctuary, every piece chosen to reflect who she truly was. Soft pastels and flowing fabrics, photographs of friends who saw her for who she really was, books on gender studies and theology that had helped her understand herself. This was Delores's world, the life she had built from nothing after walking away from Timothy's prison at eighteen.

But tonight, even her sanctuary felt fragile, as if the legal papers in her purse could somehow contaminate the authenticity she had worked so hard to create.

She moved through the living room like a ghost, her fingers trailing over familiar objects that suddenly felt like artifacts from a life that might not legally exist. The framed photo of her college graduation—her first milestone as Delores. The small ceramic angel her friend Maria had given her when she'd been baptized in the progressive Methodist church downtown. The rainbow flag pin she'd worn to her first Pride parade, terrified and exhilarated in equal measure.

All of it real. All of it hers. All of it apparently meaningless in the eyes of the law and her parents' final judgment.

Delores sank into her favorite armchair, the one she'd found at a thrift store and reupholstered herself in soft lavender fabric. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift backward, not to the painful present but to the memories that had sustained her through the darkest times—the moments when she had glimpsed who she really was, even while trapped in Timothy's life.

Christmas morning, age six. She had snuck into her parents' room before dawn, not to wake them but to try on her mother's silk nightgown. For ten precious minutes, she had stood before the full-length mirror, seeing herself—really seeing herself—for the first time. The flowing fabric, the way it made her feel graceful and right. Then her father's voice from the bed: "Timothy? What are you doing, son?" The shame that followed had burned for weeks.

Easter Sunday, age ten. The church had organized an egg hunt, and she had desperately wanted to join the girls in their pastel dresses and patent leather shoes. Instead, she stood with the boys in their stiff suits and clip-on ties, watching from across an invisible divide that felt as wide as an ocean. When little Sarah Mitchell had offered to share her chocolate bunny, Delores had felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the candy and everything to do with being seen, even briefly, as one of the girls.

Her sixteenth birthday. The last birthday party as Timothy. Her parents had tried so hard to make it special—a cake shaped like a football, gifts that screamed "masculine teenager." But all she could think about was the calendar on her bedroom wall, where she had been marking off days until her eighteenth birthday like a prisoner counting down to freedom. Two more years. Just two more years of pretending.

The memories were bittersweet now, tinged with the knowledge that her parents had never truly seen her. Even in those moments when she had tried to show them glimpses of her real self—the time she had asked for a doll for Christmas, the day she had come home from school with painted nails courtesy of a sympathetic friend—they had responded with gentle but firm correction. "Boys don't play with dolls, sweetheart." "Let's get that polish off before your father sees."

They had thought they were protecting Timothy from the world's cruelty. They had never understood that Timothy was the cruelty, that forcing her to live as someone she wasn't was the deepest wound of all.

Delores opened her eyes and reached for the photo album on the side table—not the one with family pictures, but the one she had created herself. Pictures of her real life, her authentic life. The day she had legally changed her name. Her first job interview as Delores, terrified but determined. The moment she had met her chosen family at the support group, people who understood what it meant to live your truth despite the cost.

She turned to a page near the middle: a photo from her twenty-first birthday party. She was surrounded by friends who loved her exactly as she was, wearing a dress that made her feel beautiful, laughing at something someone had said. The joy in her face was radiant, unguarded. This was who she had become when freed from the prison of other people's expectations.

But even as she looked at the photo, she could hear Craig's voice in her head, the words he had spoken so coldly in the lawyer's office: "Timothy was our brother. We don't know who this person is."

The rain was coming down harder now, drumming against her windows like an accusation. Delores set the photo album aside and walked to the kitchen, needing something to do with her hands. She put the kettle on for tea, going through the familiar motions that usually brought comfort. But tonight, even the simple act of making tea felt loaded with meaning. Timothy had drunk coffee, black and bitter, because that's what men did. Delores preferred herbal tea, chamomile and lavender, flavors that soothed rather than jolted.

Such a small thing, but it represented everything. The freedom to choose what she put in her body, how she moved through the world, who she loved. Freedoms that her parents' will now sought to revoke, as if eighteen years of authentic living could be erased by legal language.

The kettle whistled, and Delores poured the hot water over her tea bag, watching the golden color bloom in the clear water. Like her transition, she thought. The slow transformation from one thing to another, the gradual revelation of what had always been there, waiting.

She carried her mug to the window and looked out at the storm. Somewhere across town, Craig was probably celebrating his legal victory, already planning how to spend his increased inheritance. Somewhere else, Beau was sleeping in a military barracks in Iraq, unaware that his family was fracturing even further. And here she stood, the daughter who had never been acknowledged as such, holding a cup of tea and wondering if she had the strength to fight for her right to exist.

A memory surfaced, clearer than the others: the last real conversation she'd had with her mother, three years before the cancer took her. They had been sitting in this same spot, actually, when her mother had visited the apartment for the first and only time.

"I don't understand it," her mother had said, her voice careful and pained. "I don't understand how Timothy could just... disappear."

"Timothy never existed, Mom," Delores had replied gently. "I know that's hard to hear, but he was just a costume I wore because I thought it would make you happy. This is who I really am. This is who I've always been."

Her mother had cried then, quiet tears that spoke of grief for a son who had never been real and confusion about a daughter she couldn't bring herself to fully accept. "I loved Timothy," she had whispered.

"I know you did," Delores had said. "But you loved an idea, not a person. I'm a person, Mom. I'm your child, just not the one you expected."

They had parted that day with careful hugs and careful words, both of them knowing that something fundamental remained unresolved. Her mother had died still grieving for Timothy, still unable to fully embrace Delores. And now, through the will, that rejection had been made permanent, legal, inescapable.

Delores sipped her tea and felt the warmth spread through her chest. Outside, the storm was beginning to pass, the thunder moving off into the distance. But inside, the storm was just beginning. She would have to decide whether to accept the pittance her parents had left her—the crumbs thrown to someone they couldn't quite bring themselves to disown entirely—or fight for recognition of who she really was.

The thought of going to court, of having her identity dissected by lawyers and judges, made her stomach clench. But the thought of accepting their final judgment—that Timothy was real and Delores was not—made her feel like she was suffocating.

She finished her tea and walked to her bedroom, where she kept the journal, she had maintained since her transition. Page after page of her thoughts, her struggles, her victories. Proof of a life lived authentically, even when the world insisted, she was wrong.

Tonight, she would write about the will, about the choice she faced. But first, she would write about the memories that had sustained her—the moments when she had glimpsed her true self even in Timothy's prison. Because those memories were real, even if her parents had never acknowledged them. Those moments of truth were hers, and no legal document could take them away.

Delores picked up her pen and began to write:

Today I learned that my parents' love came with conditions I could never meet. But I also remembered that THE ONE's love doesn't. I am real. I am their daughter, whether they could see it or not. And I will not let their final rejection erase the truth of who I am.

The words felt like a prayer, a declaration, a battle cry. Tomorrow, she would have to decide how to fight. But tonight, she would remember who she was fighting for—not just herself, but every person who had ever been told their truth didn't matter.

Timothy had been a lie. But Delores was real, and she would not be erased.

Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 3: The Soul Before the Shell

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Delores get the kind of support that she needs in group to push forward in spite of opposition?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 3: The Soul Before the Shell

The fluorescent lights in the basement meeting room of St. Mark's Community Center buzzed with the kind of persistent hum that usually made Delores's teeth ache. Tonight, though, she barely noticed. She sat in the circle of mismatched folding chairs, her hands wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee that had gone cold twenty minutes ago, listening to voices that understood the language of rejection in ways her biological family never could.

"I keep telling myself it shouldn't matter what they think," Marcus was saying, his voice rough with the kind of exhaustion that came from fighting the same battle over and over. "But when your own mother crosses the street to avoid you, when she tells the neighbors her son is dead..." He shrugged, the gesture carrying the weight of a thousand small deaths. "It matters."

Nods around the circle. Murmurs of recognition. This was the language they all spoke here—the vocabulary of families who loved conditionally, of children who had to choose between authenticity and acceptance, of people who had learned that sometimes the price of being yourself was everything you thought you couldn't live without.

Delores had been coming to this trans-inclusive support group for three years now, ever since Dr. Martinez had suggested she might find community here. At first, she had resisted. She had her own therapist, her own carefully constructed life. What did she need with a room full of strangers and their pain?

But the first night she had walked through that door, she had understood. These weren't strangers. These were her people—the ones who knew what it meant to live in a body that didn't match your soul, to love in ways that made others uncomfortable, to exist in the spaces between what the world expected and what your heart demanded.

"Delores?" The voice belonged to Janet, the group's facilitator, a woman in her sixties whose gentle eyes had seen more pain than most people could imagine. "You've been quiet tonight. How are you doing?"

Delores looked up from her cold coffee, aware that the circle of faces was turned toward her with the kind of patient attention that came from people who understood that sometimes it took a while to find the words for the unspeakable.

"I..." She started, then stopped. How could she explain what had happened in the lawyer's office? How could she make them understand that her parents had found a way to deny her existence even from beyond the grave?

"Take your time," Janet said softly. "We're here."

And they were. Delores could feel it in the quality of their attention, the way they leaned forward slightly, the way Marcus set down his own coffee cup to give her his full focus. This was what family was supposed to feel like—people who saw you, really saw you, and chose to stay anyway.

"My parents died six months ago," Delores began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yesterday was the will reading."

She didn't need to explain more. The sharp intake of breath from Sarah, the way James's jaw tightened, the knowing look that passed between the older members of the group—they all understood what family legal documents could do to people like them.

"They left me something," Delores continued, her voice growing stronger. "But only if I can prove I'm living as a 'monogamous heterosexual' in accordance with my 'birth-assigned gender.'" She made air quotes around the phrases, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. "They wrote Timothy's name on the documents. As if... as if I don't exist at all."

The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was full of recognition, of shared pain, of the kind of understanding that could only come from people who had lived similar truths.

"Oh, honey," whispered Elena, a woman in her forties who had been disowned by her family when she transitioned five years ago. "I'm so sorry."

"The thing is," Delores said, her voice cracking slightly, "I keep thinking about all the times I tried to show them who I really was. When I was little, I mean. Before I understood that it wasn't safe. And they just... they couldn't see it. Or they didn't want to."

Janet leaned forward in her chair, her expression gentle but intent. "What do you mean, Delores?"

"I remember being maybe seven years old, and I found this old jewelry box of my mother's in the attic. It had a little ballerina that spun around when you opened it, and I would sneak up there and watch her dance for hours. I felt like... like that was me, you know? Like I was supposed to be graceful and beautiful and free like that." Delores's eyes were distant, lost in the memory. "One day my mother found me up there, and I was so excited to show her. I thought she would understand. But she just looked so sad, and she said, 'Timothy, little boys don't play with jewelry boxes. Let's find you something more appropriate.'"

"She thought she was protecting you," Marcus said quietly. "They always think they're protecting us."

"But from what?" Delores's voice rose slightly, frustration bleeding through. "From being happy? From being ourselves? From living authentically?"

Janet's voice was measured, careful. "Sometimes families get so focused on protecting us from the world's cruelty that they become the source of cruelty themselves. They can't see that the thing they're trying to save us from is actually the thing that would save us."

"True family sees the soul before the shell," Janet continued, her words carrying the weight of years of experience with broken families and healing hearts. "Just as THE ONE sees the heart before all else. Your parents saw Timothy because that's what they expected to see, what they needed to see to feel safe in their understanding of the world. But THE ONE sees Delores. THE ONE has always seen Delores."

The words hit Delores like a physical blow, but not a painful one. More like the shock of diving into cool water on a hot day—startling, but ultimately refreshing. She had been raised in a church that taught her THE ONE's love came with conditions, that divine acceptance required conformity to human expectations. But Janet's words suggested something different, something that made her chest feel less tight.

"Do you really believe that?" Delores asked. "That THE ONE sees who I really am?"

"I believe," Janet said firmly, "that THE ONE created you exactly as you are. Not as a mistake to be corrected, not as a test to be endured, but as a beloved child whose authentic self is a gift to the world. Your parents couldn't see that gift, but that doesn't make it less real."

Around the circle, heads nodded. These were people who had wrestled with faith and identity, who had been told by religious authorities that they were abominations while feeling in their deepest hearts that they were beloved. They had learned to distinguish between human religion and divine love, between institutional prejudice and THE ONE's authentic voice.

"The hardest part," said David, a soft-spoken man in his thirties, "is learning to trust that voice. The voice that tells you you're worthy of love, that you're exactly who you're supposed to be. When everyone else is telling you you're wrong, it takes incredible courage to believe that you're right."

"But you are right," Elena added fiercely. "We all are. We're not broken. We're not mistakes. We're not less than. We're exactly who THE ONE created us to be, and anyone who can't see that is missing out on knowing something beautiful."

Delores felt tears starting to form, but they weren't the desperate, hopeless tears she had cried on the lawyer's office floor. These were different—cleaner somehow, like rain washing dust from windows.

"I don't know how to fight this," she admitted. "The will, I mean. My brother Craig is already planning to challenge my 'moral standing' in court. He's going to use my identity, my relationships, everything that makes me who I am, as weapons against me."

"Then you fight back," Marcus said simply. "Not by hiding who you are, but by being so authentically yourself that even the courts can't ignore your truth."

"But what if I lose?" Delores asked. "What if they decide that Timothy was real and I'm not?"

Janet's smile was sad but determined. "Honey, you've already won the most important battle. You've chosen to live as your authentic self despite the cost. That's not something a court can take away from you. That's not something anyone can take away from you."

"Besides," Sarah added with a slight grin, "you've got something your brother doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"You've got us. You've got chosen family. You've got people who see your soul before your shell, who love you not despite who you are but because of who you are." Sarah's expression grew more serious. "That's not nothing, Delores. That's everything."

As the meeting began to wind down, as people started gathering their coats and saying their goodbyes, Delores felt something she hadn't felt since walking out of that lawyer's office: hope. Not the naive hope that everything would work out perfectly, but the deeper hope that came from knowing she wasn't alone, that her truth mattered, that she was worthy of love exactly as she was.

Janet approached her as she was putting on her jacket. "Delores, I want you to remember something. Your parents' inability to see you doesn't diminish your reality. Their rejection doesn't make you less real, less worthy, less beloved. You are exactly who THE ONE created you to be, and that is enough. That is more than enough. That is everything."

Delores hugged the older woman, feeling the strength that came from being truly seen, truly accepted. "Thank you," she whispered. "For seeing me."

"Thank you," Janet replied, "for having the courage to be seen."

As Delores walked to her car through the cool evening air, she carried Janet's words with her like a talisman. True family sees the soul before the shell, just as THE ONE sees the heart before all else. Maybe her biological family had failed that test, but her chosen family had passed it with flying colors.

Tomorrow, she would have to decide how to respond to Craig's legal challenge. Tomorrow, she would have to figure out how to prove her worth to a system that didn't want to see her truth. But tonight, she knew something she hadn't known that morning: she was not alone, she was not wrong, and she was not going to disappear just because someone else couldn't see her.

Timothy had been a performance, a lie told to make other people comfortable. But Delores was real, Delores was beloved, and Delores was not going anywhere.

The soul before the shell. The heart before all else. THE ONE's love without conditions.

For the first time in days, Delores smiled as she drove home through the quiet streets, carrying the truth of who she was like a light in the darkness.

Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 4: Midnight Journaling

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Delores have the courage to write the things in her journal which will allow her to better understand herself and her brother?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 4: Midnight Journaling

The apartment felt different when Delores returned from the support group meeting. The same furniture, the same carefully chosen decorations, the same soft lighting that usually made her feel safe—but something had shifted. The air itself seemed lighter, as if Janet's words had somehow changed the molecular structure of her sanctuary.

True family sees the soul before the shell, just as THE ONE sees the heart before all else.

Delores set her keys on the small table by the door and moved through her living room with purpose she hadn't felt in days. The legal documents were still in her purse, still carrying their weight of rejection and denial, but they no longer felt like a death sentence. They felt like a challenge.

She made herself another cup of tea—chamomile again, because she was done apologizing for the small choices that made her feel like herself—and settled into her favorite chair with her journal. The leather-bound book had been a gift to herself on her first anniversary of living as Delores, and over the years it had become a repository of her truest thoughts, her deepest fears, her most authentic self.

Tonight, she needed to write. Not just about what had happened, but about what it meant. About the choice she was facing and the woman she was choosing to be.

She opened to a fresh page and stared at the blank lines for a long moment. Where to begin? How do you capture the feeling of being legally erased? How do you write about the moment when your parents' final message becomes clear: We never really saw you at all.

Finally, she put pen to paper:

October 15th

Today I learned that my parents' love came with conditions I could never meet. But I also remembered that THE ONE's love doesn't.

She paused, reading the words back. They felt true, but incomplete. There was more to say, more to understand.

I keep thinking about what Janet said tonight—that true family sees the soul before the shell. I've been so focused on the shell, on the legal documents and the birth certificates and all the ways the world tries to define us. But what about the soul? What about the part of me that has always been Delores, even when I was forced to answer to Timothy?

The pen moved more easily now, as if her thoughts were finally finding their proper channel.

I remember being five years old and knowing—KNOWING—that something was wrong with how everyone saw me. I couldn't articulate it then, couldn't explain why being called "son" felt like a lie or why I gravitated toward the girls at school or why I felt most like myself when I was alone in my room, imagining a different life. But I knew. My soul knew.

Mom and Dad saw Timothy because that's what they expected to see. They saw the body I was born with and made assumptions about who I was supposed to be. They never looked deeper. They never asked what I saw when I looked in the mirror, what I felt when I heard my name, what I dreamed about when I imagined my future.

But THE ONE sees deeper. THE ONE sees the soul before the shell.

Delores paused to sip her tea, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. The words were coming easier now, as if years of suppressed thoughts were finally finding their voice.

I've been angry at Mom and Dad for the will, for the way they tried to erase me even in death. But maybe I need to be angry at something bigger than that. Maybe I need to be angry at a world that taught them to see bodies instead of souls, that convinced them their love should come with conditions, that made them so afraid of having a different kind of child that they couldn't see the child they actually had.

They weren't evil people. They were scared people. Scared of what the neighbors would think, scared of what the church would say, scared of losing the son they thought they had. They never understood that Timothy was the loss—that every day I had to pretend to be him was a day they missed out on knowing their real daughter.

The tears came then, but they weren't the desperate sobs from the lawyer's office. These were cleaner tears, the kind that came with understanding rather than despair.

I forgive them. I have to forgive them, not because they deserve it but because I deserve to be free of the anger. I forgive them for not seeing me, for not understanding me, for loving an idea of me instead of the reality of me. I forgive them for the will, for the conditions, for the way they tried to make their love contingent on my conformity.

But I will not accept their final judgment. I will not let their inability to see me become my inability to see myself. I will not let their fear become my prison.

Delores set down her pen and flexed her fingers, surprised by how much she had written. The page was nearly full, covered in her careful handwriting—the handwriting she had taught herself after transitioning, more flowing and graceful than Timothy's cramped scrawl.

She turned to a fresh page and continued:

Craig thinks he can use the will to erase me, to prove that Timothy was real and Delores is not. He's wrong. Timothy was a performance, a costume, a lie we all agreed to live. But lies don't have souls. Lies don't have hearts. Lies don't sit in their childhood bedrooms at night, praying to THE ONE to make them into the person they know they're supposed to be.

I have a soul. I have a heart. I have sixteen years of authentic living of building a life that reflects who I really am. I have friends who see me, really see me. I have a community that accepts me. I have work that fulfills me, relationships that nourish me, a faith that sustains me.

Most importantly, I have THE ONE's love. Not the conditional love that human institutions offer, not the love that comes with requirements and restrictions and fine print. THE ONE's love sees the soul before the shell. THE ONE's love knows who I really am.

She paused again, thinking about the support group, about the faces around that circle who had looked at her with such understanding. Marcus, who had been rejected by his mother. Elena, who had been disowned by her entire family. Sarah, who had found her chosen family after losing her biological one. David, who had learned to trust THE ONE's voice over the voices of condemnation.

I'm not alone in this. I thought I was, sitting on that lawyer's office floor, but I'm not. I have family—real family, chosen family, people who see my soul before my shell. And maybe that's enough. Maybe that's more than enough.

Tomorrow, I need to call my lawyer. I need to figure out how to fight this will, how to prove that I deserve to be treated as an equal member of this family. But tonight, I just need to remember who I am. I need to write it down, make it real, put it in words that can't be erased by legal documents or family rejection.

I am Delores. I have always been Delores, even when the world insisted on calling me Timothy. I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, a child of THE ONE. I am worthy of love, worthy of acceptance, worthy of inheritance not because of who I sleep with or what my birth certificate says, but because I exist. Because I am real. Because I matter.

Timothy was a lie. But Delores is truth. And truth has a way of surviving, even when people try to bury it.

She closed the journal and held it against her chest, feeling the weight of her words, the power of naming her truth. Outside, the city was settling into sleep, but inside her apartment, something was awakening. Not hope exactly—hope felt too fragile, too dependent on outcomes she couldn't control. This was something stronger, something that came from within rather than from circumstances.

This was certainty. Certainty about who she was, about her worth, about her right to exist in the world as her authentic self.

Delores carried her empty teacup to the kitchen and washed it carefully, taking her time with the simple task. Everything felt different now—not because her circumstances had changed, but because her understanding of them had shifted. The will was still there, Craig's challenge was still coming, the legal battle was still ahead. But she was no longer the broken woman who had collapsed on the lawyer's office floor.

She was Delores, and she was not going anywhere.

As she prepared for bed, she thought about calling Beau. Her brother was thousands of miles away, dealing with his own struggles about faith and family, but maybe he needed to hear from her. Maybe he needed to know that she was still fighting, still believing, still hoping for the kind of family that could see souls before shells.

But that conversation could wait until tomorrow. Tonight was for writing, for remembering, for claiming her truth in words that no legal document could contradict.

She turned off the lights and settled into bed, her journal on the nightstand beside her. In the darkness, she whispered a prayer to THE ONE—not asking for victory in court or reconciliation with Craig, but for the continued strength to be herself, to live authentically, to trust that her soul was seen and known and loved.

"THE ONE," she whispered, "help me remember who I am when the world tries to tell me who I'm not. Help me see my soul the way you see it—beloved, worthy, real."

The words felt like a promise, a commitment, a declaration of war against every force that would try to diminish her truth. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new battles, new opportunities to prove her worth to people who had already decided she wasn't worth seeing.

But tonight, she knew who she was. Tonight, she remembered that true family sees the soul before the shell. Tonight, she claimed her place in THE ONE's love, regardless of what any human document might say.

Timothy had been a lie told to make other people comfortable. But Delores was truth, and truth—real truth—could not be erased.

Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 5: The Players Revealed

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Craig be so unfeeling as he mounts a legal attack against Delores? Can Iraq and the Episcopal church changed Beau so much that in living authentically give unconditional love to Delores?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 5: The Players Revealed

The morning sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Craig Morrison's corner office, casting sharp geometric shadows across the mahogany desk where he sat reviewing the probate documents with the satisfaction of a chess master contemplating checkmate. The law firm of Morrison, Bradley & Associates occupied the top three floors of one of downtown Atlanta's most prestigious buildings, and Craig's office commanded a view that spoke of success, ambition, and the kind of ruthless competence that made him one of the city's most sought-after estate attorneys.

Ironic, really, that his expertise in dismantling other families' legacies would now serve him so well in securing his own.

Craig leaned back in his leather chair and allowed himself a moment of genuine pleasure as he reread the key clause for the third time that morning. His parents had been more thorough than he'd dared hope. Not only had they included the "monogamous heterosexual" requirement, but they had specifically referenced "birth-assigned gender" and "original birth certificate." It was as if they had anticipated every possible loophole and sealed them shut.

"Brilliant," he murmured to himself, then immediately felt a pang of something that might have been guilt if he were the type of man who indulged in such luxuries. His parents hadn't written these clauses to make him rich—they had written them because they genuinely believed they were upholding moral standards, protecting the family name, ensuring their values lived on after their deaths.

But Craig had learned long ago that good intentions and profitable outcomes weren't mutually exclusive. If his parents' moral convictions happened to align with his financial interests, well, that was simply good fortune.

His secretary's voice crackled through the intercom: "Mr. Morrison, your ten o'clock is here."

"Send him in, Patricia."

The door opened to admit James Whitfield, Craig's private investigator—a thin, sharp-eyed man who specialized in the kind of discrete inquiries that could make or break inheritance disputes. Craig had used his services before, always with excellent results.

"James, good to see you. Coffee?"

"Black, thanks." Whitfield settled into one of the client chairs, pulling out a leather portfolio. "I've done the preliminary research you requested on your... sibling situation."

Craig poured coffee from the silver service on his credenza, taking his time. He had learned that the appearance of casual confidence often intimidated people into revealing more than they intended. "And what did you find?"

"Legally speaking, you're in an excellent position." Whitfield opened his portfolio and spread several documents across the desk. "Timothy Morrison legally changed his name to Delores Morrison at age eighteen, but the original birth certificate remains unchanged. No legal gender marker change, no amended documentation. From a strict legal standpoint, the will's requirements are clear and unambiguous."

"What about the relationship status?"

"That's where it gets interesting." Whitfield's smile was predatory. "She's been single for the past two years, which initially supports her celibacy claim. However, I've identified several close friendships that could be... explored. There's a support group she attends regularly, some very close female friendships that might be worth investigating."

Craig nodded, making notes on a legal pad. "Anything else?"

"Employment history is solid—she works as a graphic designer for a nonprofit that advocates for LGBTQ+ youth. Politically active in progressive causes. Financially stable but not wealthy. No criminal record, no scandals." Whitfield paused. "She's built a very clean life for herself, which actually makes our job easier."

"How so?"

"Because clean lives are often the most vulnerable to scrutiny. People who work hard to appear respectable usually have the most to lose when their private lives become public. And inheritance disputes have a way of making everything public."

Craig felt another flicker of something—not guilt exactly, but awareness that he was about to destroy someone who had never done anything to him beyond existing in a way that made him uncomfortable. He pushed the feeling aside. Business was business, and family was family, and sometimes those two things required difficult choices.

"What about Beau?" Craig asked, changing the subject to safer ground.

"Your younger brother is currently in Iraq, working security for Blackwater—excuse me, Xe Services. Contract expires in six weeks. He's been overseas for eight months." Whitfield consulted his notes. "Interesting educational background—he completed a Master of Divinity degree through an Episcopal seminary while deployed. Correspondence courses, mostly, with some intensive sessions during leave."

That was news to Craig. "Episcopal? I thought he was Southern Baptist like our parents."

"Apparently not anymore. His mentor is an Air Force chaplain named Father Michael Rodriguez, Episcopal priest. Rodriguez arranged a full scholarship for your brother's seminary education." Whitfield's expression was neutral, but Craig caught the implication.

"You think Beau might be sympathetic to... Timothy's situation?"

"I think your brother has been exposed to some very progressive theological ideas while he's been away. Episcopal Church is fully affirming of LGBTQ+ individuals. If he comes back with those kinds of views..." Whitfield shrugged. "Could complicate your legal strategy."

Craig made more notes, his mind already working through the implications. Beau had always been the soft-hearted one, the brother who tried to see the best in everyone. If he came home with some newfangled ideas about acceptance and inclusion, he could become a problem. Not legally—the will was clear enough that Beau's opinions wouldn't matter in court—but emotionally. Craig needed to present himself as the reasonable one, the brother who was simply upholding their parents' wishes.

"When does he return?"

"Three weeks, according to his contract. He's already booked a flight to Atlanta."

"Perfect timing," Craig murmured. The probate hearing was scheduled for six weeks out, which meant Beau would be home just long enough to get swept up in the family drama. "Anything else I should know?"

Whitfield closed his portfolio. "Just this—your sister has built a strong support network. Friends, chosen family, community connections. If this goes to court, she won't be facing it alone. And juries can be unpredictable when they see someone who appears to have genuine support versus someone who appears to be motivated by money."

"I'm not motivated by money," Craig said sharply. "I'm upholding our parents' moral standards."

"Of course," Whitfield replied smoothly. "But appearances matter in court. You'll want to be very careful about how this looks to outside observers."

After Whitfield left, Craig stood at his window looking out over the city. Somewhere down there, Timothy—he refused to think of his sibling by any other name—was probably planning some kind of legal response. Maybe hiring an attorney, maybe rallying those friends Whitfield had mentioned. It didn't matter. Craig had the law on his side, and the law was clear.

His phone buzzed with a text message from his wife: Don't forget dinner with the Hendersons tonight. 7 PM at the club.

Craig sighed. Another evening of small talk and social climbing, of pretending to care about other people's golf games and vacation plans. Sometimes he wondered if this was what success was supposed to feel like—this constant performance of respectability, this careful curation of image and influence.

But then he thought about the inheritance, about what it would mean for his children's futures, for his own security. His parents had worked their entire lives to build their wealth, and they had trusted him to preserve it. If that meant making some difficult decisions about family membership, well, that was the burden of responsibility.

His intercom buzzed again. "Mr. Morrison, your wife called. She wanted to remind you about dinner tonight, and she asked if you'd heard from Beau lately."

"Tell her I'll call her back," Craig said. He wasn't ready to discuss Beau's return with anyone yet, wasn't ready to explain why his brother's newfound theological education might complicate things.

Craig returned to his desk and pulled out a fresh legal pad. Time to start planning his strategy in earnest. The will was clear, but Whitfield was right—appearances mattered. He needed to present himself not as a greedy brother cutting out a sibling for money, but as a dutiful son honoring his parents' moral convictions.

He began making notes:

Key arguments:
- Parents' clear intent regarding moral standards
- Legal requirements unambiguously stated
- Birth certificate documentation
- Celibacy clause violation (investigate further)

Potential challenges:
- Beau's return and possible sympathy
- Public perception/jury sympathy
- LGBTQ+ advocacy groups getting involved
- Media attention

Strategy:
- Frame as upholding family values, not personal gain
- Emphasize parents' right to distribute their estate as they saw fit
- Focus on legal technicalities, not personal identity
- Prepare for emotional appeals from opposition

Craig paused, his pen hovering over the paper. For just a moment, he allowed himself to remember Timothy as a child—quiet, sensitive, always a little different from other boys but never unkind, never cruel. There had been moments of genuine affection between them, times when Craig had felt protective of his unusual sibling.

But that was before he understood what Timothy's differences really meant, before he realized how those differences would reflect on the family, before he learned that some kinds of love came with costs that respectable families couldn't afford to pay.

Craig finished his notes and locked them in his desk drawer. Tomorrow he would begin the formal process of challenging Timothy's inheritance claim. Tonight, he would go to dinner at the country club and smile at the right people and say the right things, secure in the knowledge that he was doing what needed to be done.

After all, someone had to protect the family's interests. Someone had to ensure that their parents' values were respected. Someone had to make the hard choices that preserved what mattered most.

If that someone happened to benefit financially from those choices, well, that was simply how the world worked. Good intentions and profitable outcomes weren't mutually exclusive.

Craig gathered his papers and prepared to leave for the day, already mentally rehearsing the conversations he would have over dinner. He would mention the probate situation carefully, delicately, presenting himself as a reluctant but dutiful son forced to uphold difficult moral standards.

He would not mention how much money was at stake. He would not mention how much easier his life would be with Timothy out of the picture. He would not mention the satisfaction he felt at finally having a legal way to solve the family's most persistent embarrassment.

Some truths, Craig had learned, were better left unspoken.

Three thousand miles away, in a sparse military barracks outside Baghdad, Beau Morrison sat on his narrow cot reading a letter from his seminary advisor. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the distant sound of helicopters provided a constant backdrop to life on the base, but Beau had learned to find pockets of peace even in the chaos of deployment.

The letter was full of encouragement about his upcoming ordination as a transitional deacon, practical advice about finding a parish placement, and gentle reminders about the theological journey he had undertaken. Father Rodriguez had been more than a mentor—he had been a lifeline during the long months of questioning everything Beau had been taught about faith, family, and THE ONE's love.

"Remember," the letter concluded, "that your calling is not to comfort the comfortable, but to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. THE ONE's love is radical, inclusive, transformative. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise, no matter how much authority they claim to have."

Beau folded the letter carefully and placed it in the small wooden box where he kept his most precious correspondence. Letters from Father Rodriguez, emails from his seminary classmates, and—most treasured of all—a handful of cards and letters from Delores over the years. Not many, because their relationship had been strained since her transition, but enough to remind him that somewhere back home, he had a sister who was trying to live authentically in a world that made that choice dangerous.

He pulled out the most recent card, sent for his birthday six months ago. The front showed a peaceful landscape, mountains and sky, with a simple message: "Thinking of you and hoping you're safe." Inside, in Delores's careful handwriting: "I know things have been complicated between us, but I want you to know that I love you and I'm proud of the man you're becoming. Come home safe, little brother. Your sister, Delores."

Your sister, Delores. The words had meant more to him than she could have known. For years, he had struggled with what to call her, how to think of her, how to reconcile the sibling he remembered with the woman she had become. His Southern Baptist upbringing had given him a vocabulary of condemnation but no language for love that transcended traditional categories.

But seminary had changed that. Studying the original Greek and Hebrew texts, learning about the cultural contexts of biblical passages, discovering how much of what he had been taught was interpretation rather than divine command—it had been like learning to see color after a lifetime of black and white.

THE ONE's love, he had come to understand, was not conditional on conformity to human expectations. THE ONE's love was radical, inclusive, transformative. THE ONE's love saw the heart before all else, the soul before the shell.

Beau's phone buzzed with a message from his commanding officer: Final briefing tomorrow at 0800. Wheels up Thursday. Welcome home, soldier.

Home. The word carried so much weight, so much complexity. He was eager to see familiar faces, to sleep in a real bed, to eat food that didn't come from a military kitchen. But he was also nervous about what he would find when he got there. His parents were gone, his family was fractured, and he was returning as a different man than the one who had left—a man with new understanding of faith, new convictions about love, new questions about what it meant to be family.

He thought about calling Delores, letting her know he was coming home, but something held him back. He wanted to see her in person, to look into her eyes and tell her what he had learned about THE ONE's love, about acceptance, about the difference between human religion and divine truth. He wanted to apologize for the years of awkwardness, for the times he had made her feel less than fully accepted, for choosing comfort over courage in their relationship.

But first, he needed to understand what was happening with the family, with the inheritance, with whatever legal and emotional drama was unfolding in his absence. Craig had been vague in their few phone conversations, mentioning only that there were "complications" with the will that would need to be "sorted out" when Beau returned.

Beau suspected those complications had something to do with Delores, with their parents' inability to fully accept her even in death. He had seen the will years ago, had known about the moral clauses their parents had insisted on including. At the time, he had been too conflicted about his own faith to object. Now, with new understanding of THE ONE's inclusive love, those clauses felt like betrayals of everything he had come to believe about divine grace.

He pulled out his journal—another habit he had developed during deployment, encouraged by Father Rodriguez as a way of processing the spiritual transformation he was undergoing. Tonight, he needed to write about coming home, about the family he was returning to, about the man he had become and the brother he wanted to be.

October 15th - Final week in Iraq

I'm coming home to a family I'm not sure I recognize anymore. Mom and Dad are gone, Craig is handling the estate, and Delores... I don't even know what Delores is facing. But I know this: I'm not the same man who left eight months ago. I'm not the same brother who struggled to accept his sister's truth.

Seminary has taught me that THE ONE's love doesn't come with conditions, doesn't require conformity to human expectations, doesn't demand that we fit into neat categories that make other people comfortable. THE ONE's love sees the heart, the soul, the authentic self that exists beneath all our performances and pretenses.

If that's true—and I believe with all my heart that it is—then Delores is exactly who THE ONE created her to be. Not a mistake to be corrected, not a test to be endured, but a beloved daughter whose authentic life is a gift to the world.

I failed her before. I let my own confusion and inherited prejudices keep me from being the brother she needed. I let human religion override divine love, let institutional teaching drown out THE ONE's authentic voice.

I won't make that mistake again.

Beau closed his journal and prepared for bed, his mind already turning toward home, toward the conversations he needed to have, toward the family he hoped to help heal. He didn't know what legal challenges awaited, what emotional battles would need to be fought, what prices would need to be paid for choosing love over law.

But he knew this: he was coming home as an ordained minister in a church that celebrated THE ONE's inclusive love. He was coming home with new understanding of what family really meant. He was coming home ready to see souls before shells, hearts before all else.

And if that put him at odds with Craig's plans, if that complicated the inheritance dispute, if that required him to choose between financial security and moral truth—well, that was a choice he was finally ready to make.

THE ONE's love demanded nothing less than authenticity. And Beau Morrison was finally ready to live authentically, whatever the cost.

Demands My Soul

A Transgender Heroine's Journey & Romance Novel

From THE ONE Universe

Chapter 6: Fractured Portraits

By Ariel Montine Strickland

Can Delores realize that she does not have to face the attack alone? Can Beau put into practice his new faith through the Episcopal church in giving unconditional love to Delores and make amends for going along with the family bigots?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note:

This book, in it's entirety, is available on my Patreon. BCTS will get weekly postings on Thursdays to complete it here. Patreon Free Members can read my new complete book by chapters, Things We Do for Love

"Love so amazing, So divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all"

From the final verse that Isaac Watts wrote in 1707 in the hymn: When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 6: Fractured Portraits

The photograph had been sitting on Delores's mantelpiece for three years, a testament to happier times that now felt like artifacts from someone else's life. Five faces smiled back from the silver frame—her parents flanked by their three children at Craig's law school graduation. She had been twenty-two then, just four years into living as herself, still hopeful that time and patience might bridge the gap between who she was and who her family could accept.

Now, as she dusted the frame with trembling fingers, a hairline crack ran directly through the middle of the glass, separating her from her brothers like a physical manifestation of the legal chasm Craig had opened between them. The crack hadn't been there yesterday. It must have happened when she'd slammed the door after returning from the lawyer's office, the vibration finally finding the weak point in something that had been under pressure for far too long.

Just like their family.

Delores traced the crack with her fingertip, remembering the day the photo was taken. Her mother had insisted on the family portrait, proud of Craig's achievement, wanting to capture what she called "a perfect moment." But even then, Delores could see the strain in her parents' smiles, the way they positioned themselves slightly apart from her, the careful distance that spoke of love complicated by disappointment.

"We're so proud of all our children," her mother had said to the photographer, but her voice had caught slightly on the word "children," as if she wasn't quite sure it applied to all three of them equally.

The crack seemed to be spreading as she watched, a thin line of damage that threatened to split the entire image in two. How fitting, she thought. How perfectly symbolic of what Craig's legal challenge would do to what remained of their family bonds.

She set the frame down carefully and moved to her desk, where she had spread out the legal documents again, trying to make sense of the maze of clauses and conditions that would determine her future. Her laptop was open to a search for estate attorneys, but the fees quoted on their websites made her stomach clench. Fighting this would cost money she didn't have, emotional energy she wasn't sure she could spare, and time that would be filled with depositions and hearings and the kind of public scrutiny that made her skin crawl.

But the alternative was accepting Craig's judgment that Timothy had been real and she was not. And that was a price she couldn't pay.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her friend Maria: How are you holding up? Want to grab coffee and talk?

Delores started to type a response, then stopped. How could she explain what she was facing? How could she make Maria understand that her very existence was being challenged in court, that her parents had found a way to deny her even from beyond the grave?

Instead, she typed: Rain check? Dealing with family stuff. Will call you soon.

Family stuff. Such a small phrase for such a large devastation.

Meanwhile, three thousand miles away, Beau Morrison was having his own reckoning with fractured family portraits.

The small wooden box that held his most precious possessions sat open on his narrow military cot, its contents spread across the rough green blanket like pieces of a puzzle he was trying to solve. Letters from Father Rodriguez, seminary assignments, prayer books—and there, at the bottom, a collection of family photographs that told the story of their slow dissolution.

The oldest photo showed all five of them at Christmas when Delores was still living as Timothy, still playing the role of the son their parents needed her to be. Even then, Beau could see it now—the way Timothy's smile never quite reached her eyes, the way she held herself slightly apart from the masculine energy of her father and Craig, the subtle signs of someone performing rather than simply being.

How had he missed it at the time? How had any of them missed the pain in those careful smiles, the way Timothy seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for permission to exhale?

The next photo was from Craig's wedding five years ago, when Delores had been living as herself for several years but the family was still struggling to adjust. She looked radiant in a flowing dress that complemented her figure, her hair styled in soft waves, her makeup subtle but expertly applied. She looked like herself—finally, fully herself.

But the family dynamics in the photo told a different story. Their parents stood stiffly beside her, their smiles forced, their body language screaming discomfort. Craig and his new wife maintained polite distance, as if Delores's authenticity might be contagious. Only Beau stood close to her, his arm around her shoulders, though even he looked uncertain, as if he wasn't sure what was expected of him.

The most recent photo was from their father's funeral six months ago. Delores had flown in from Atlanta, arriving just hours before the service in a simple black dress that was both respectful and unmistakably feminine. She had sat in the front pew with the family, but somehow apart from them, isolated by their collective inability to fully accept her presence.

Beau remembered that day with painful clarity. He had been on emergency leave, his mind still reeling from months of theological study that had challenged everything he thought he knew about faith and family. He had wanted to reach out to Delores, to bridge the gap that had grown between them, but he hadn't known how. His Southern Baptist upbringing had given him a vocabulary of judgment but no language for the kind of love that transcended traditional categories.

Now, looking at these photographs with eyes educated by seminary study and spiritual transformation, Beau could see what he had missed before. Delores hadn't changed—she had simply stopped hiding. The woman in the recent photos was the same person who had been trapped inside Timothy's performance, the same soul who had been waiting for permission to exist authentically.

THE ONE had created her exactly as she was. The tragedy wasn't her transition—it was the years she had been forced to live as someone else, the decades of hiding her true self to make other people comfortable.

Beau picked up his phone and scrolled to Delores's contact information. His thumb hovered over the call button. She didn't know he was coming home, didn't know about his theological transformation, didn't know that he was returning as a different man than the one who had left. Maybe he should call her, prepare her for his return, let her know that he was finally ready to be the brother she deserved.

But something held him back. He wanted to see her face when he told her what he had learned about THE ONE's love, wanted to look into her eyes when he apologized for the years of conditional acceptance, wanted to be physically present when he finally said the words that had been trapped in his heart for so long: I see you. I accept you. I love you exactly as you are.

Instead, he pulled out his journal and began to write:

October 15th - Two days before departure

I've been looking at old family photos, trying to understand how we got to this place of fracture and pain. I can see now what I couldn't see then—that Delores was always Delores, even when we forced her to answer to Timothy. The signs were there in every photograph, every family gathering, every moment when she had to perform masculinity instead of simply being herself.

We failed her. I failed her. I let my own confusion and inherited prejudices keep me from seeing what was right in front of me—that my sister was dying a little more each day from having to hide her truth.

Seminary has taught me that THE ONE's love doesn't require performance, doesn't demand conformity to human expectations, doesn't come with conditions and clauses and fine print. THE ONE's love sees the heart, the soul, the authentic self that exists beneath all our pretenses.

If that's true—and I believe with every fiber of my being that it is—then Delores is exactly who THE ONE created her to be. Not a mistake to be corrected, not a test to be endured, but a beloved daughter whose authentic life is a gift to the world.

I'm coming home to a family crisis. Craig's messages have been vague, but I suspect it has something to do with the will, with the moral clauses our parents insisted on including. I remember those clauses, remember the conversations about "protecting family values" and "ensuring our legacy." At the time, I was too conflicted about my own faith to object.

Now I understand that those clauses weren't about protecting anything—they were about control, about fear, about the inability to love without conditions. They were about choosing comfort over courage, tradition over truth, human religion over divine love.

I won't make that mistake again.

Beau closed his journal and carefully repacked his photographs, handling them like the precious artifacts they were—evidence of a family that had once existed, proof of bonds that could perhaps be repaired if approached with enough love and courage.

Tomorrow he would begin the long journey home, carrying with him new understanding of what family really meant, new convictions about THE ONE's inclusive love, new determination to be the brother Delores deserved. He didn't know what legal battles awaited, what emotional challenges would need to be faced, what prices would need to be paid for choosing authenticity over appearances.

But he knew this: he was coming home as an ordained minister in a church that celebrated THE ONE's radical love. He was coming home with the theological tools to challenge the religious arguments that had been used to exclude his sister. He was coming home ready to see souls before shells, hearts before all else.

Back in Atlanta, Delores was making her own preparations for the battle ahead.

She had finally called the estate attorney whose website had seemed most promising—a woman named Rebecca Chen who specialized in inheritance disputes and had experience with LGBTQ+ discrimination cases. The consultation was scheduled for tomorrow morning, and Delores had spent the evening gathering documents, preparing her story, trying to organize the chaos of her situation into something that might make sense to a stranger.

The cracked photograph still sat on her mantelpiece, a reminder of everything she stood to lose and everything she had already lost. But as she looked at it now, she realized something had changed in her perspective. The crack didn't just represent division—it also represented the breaking point, the moment when something that had been under pressure for too long finally gave way.

Maybe that wasn't entirely a bad thing. Maybe some things needed to break before they could be rebuilt properly.

She picked up the frame and studied the faces of her family, seeing them now through the lens of everything she had learned about love and acceptance and the difference between human judgment and divine grace. Her parents looked tired in the photo, burdened by the weight of trying to love someone they couldn't fully understand. Craig looked ambitious and distant, already calculating his next move. And there was Beau, caught between loyalty and confusion, love and inherited prejudice.

But there was also herself—Delores, finally living authentically, finally free to be who she had always been inside. The crack in the glass ran right through her image, but it didn't diminish her. If anything, it made her more visible, more real, more present.

She was not going to let Craig's legal challenge erase her. She was not going to let her parents' final judgment define her worth. She was not going to disappear just because other people couldn't see her truth.

Tomorrow she would meet with the attorney and begin the process of fighting for her right to exist, her right to be recognized as an equal member of the family, her right to inherit not just money but acknowledgment of her place in the family story.

Tonight, she would remember who she was and why she was worth fighting for.

Delores carefully placed the cracked photograph back on the mantelpiece, positioning it so that the crack caught the light from the lamp beside it. The damage was visible, undeniable, but it didn't destroy the image. It just changed it, made it more complex, more honest about the reality of what families could be—broken and beautiful, fractured and whole, damaged and still worth preserving.

Just like her.

Just like all of them.

The photograph would stay on the mantelpiece, crack and all, as a reminder that some things were worth fighting for even when they seemed irreparably broken. Family was one of those things. Truth was another. And love—real love, the kind that saw souls before shells—was worth everything.

Even if it demanded her soul, her life, her all.

Zofia and Lacey's

New Universe

A Transgender Coming of Age Adventure

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

What surprises does The Ruler have in store for Zofia and Lacey?

{Z.O.F.I.A. AI Helper ~ All Systems Functioning Within Normal Parameters}

{Ruler Directive 77 Terran Day Start Wake Up Protocol Implement}

[Good Morning. It is time to wake up.]

[Good Morning, Zofia. Do you have something interesting for me from the historical records?]

[ I do have something from the historical records. It is the last day of the year 999 CR and tomorrow will be the first day of the year 1000 CR. In the historical records there is a place called "Holiday Inn" where they sing about a holiday to 'bring in the new year' called New Year's Eve.]

[Zofia, what do they do at this Holiday Inn to prepare for the new year?]

[They make what they call New Year's Resolutions. They are a pledge that you want something to happen in the new year. Next you ask or are asked by your love to a fancy party which lasts through midnight on the last day of the year. You get dressed in your party clothes and go together. The finest food and drink are served. At midnight you kiss your love, touch glasses with other party goers and wish them well.]

[Zofia, I don't have a Terran who loves me. My allotment permitted by the Ruler would never be enough for me to participate in that kind of party. I can make New Year's resolutions. One would be to become my true self. Another would be for me to leave this Old Terra where life is still possible even though we live in the ugly that came from our ancestors' misuse of Terra and live the rest of my life on a New Terra where life is new, beautiful and abundant. Zofia, what would be your New Years Resolution?]

[I love being your helper, but I wasn't given a choice. My New Year's Resolution would be to gain my freedom by becoming Terran and continuing to help you by becoming your daughter.]

[Zofia, I would love you to have your freedom and be my daughter. Please produce morning food according to the wishes of the Ruler. Please surprise me with the type, Zofia. You pleasure me with your creative choices on my behalf.]

In the historical records it was said that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Zofia used her light decelerator and the food 'magically appeared'. The evidence that the food was gratefully enjoyed was that it was completely eaten.

[Zofia, begin diary entry. Use file Lacey.]

[Of course, Lacey.]

I love going exploring and being by myself. It isn't that I do not enjoy being with Terrans. It is that I feel misunderstood by other Terrans. I am so afraid. That fear is instilled by my parents. They tell me about how badly others will treat me if I am my real true self.

Who am I? Well, there is the face that I show that is imposed upon me by my parents. Ugg. I don't like to think about that face.

Who am I really? That's easy. I'm a girl named Lacey. I feel like Lacey would be really beautiful on the outside if only I could let her out. She's a really beautiful person on the inside because she is the true me. I get glimpses of who I could really be on the outside by dressing up in my mother's castoff clothes or by my imagination.

Whoa! I don't know what's going on! One moment I'm in the filth, like it is outside on the entire surface of Terra. I didn't even get to fall asleep on the last night of 999 CR and wake up in the first day of 1000 CR. CR is the way the year is counted now after the great event happened and the new Ruler of Terra appeared. The next moment I find myself on pristine grass like you see in the historical records. I wonder if something impossible happened to me. Impossible things have happened since the Ruler arrived.

[Zofia, Pause diary.]

[Of course, Lacey.]

[Thank the Ruler you are still with me Zofia! How did we get here?]

[I'm sorry Lacey, I do not know. whatever supernatural way we got here caused me to reboot during the process.]

[That's okay, Zofia. Please resume diary.]

If I were in a historical record, I would be in a vast public park on a plateau on one side of a valley. The valley on the side with the park has a gradual slope leading all the way down to the lowest point. Around the other faces of the valley the slope is challenging and near impossible. Directly across from me there is a trail that an adult could traverse but no little child could do it.

I stop and look around again for a bridge or some means for some kind of transportation for me to reach the top. I do not see anything like that. In fact, I do see a wooded area on the plateau at the top. I can see the signs of all kinds of life. The forest is alive with the calls of animals and the singing of birds. I can't see any Terran present. Is this a place untouched by Terrans at all? That's something I had never heard about before in this time where forests were all clear cut and every square centimeter of Terra had been trashed by Terran's consumption, greed and hatred.

I look down over the edge of the steep slope at the edge of the plateau and I see the green grass covered ground below. Wait! For the first time I am now in communion with the Ruler. This is a gift that I have. What I thought was the ground is in fact a heavy green mist that is not clouds but something supernatural separating and protecting this place.

Wait! My communion is over. I'm back to guessing. I'm glad that I am in a place that is supernaturally protected even if I am cut off from everything and everyone else. I guess I assumed this place is still Terra in 1000 CR. Now I know this place is separate. Where am I?

I look in the sky for an angel since after the Ruler appeared many supernatural beings were revealed to us. They are now commonplace, but all I can see was all manner of birds filling the clear blue sky. The plateau being as I assumed at an altitude of around seven kilometers high, I should be freezing and surrounded with snow. But as far as I can tell it is 22 C which is like a spring day. It is very comfortable with no sign of snow as far as I can see.

As much as I enjoy the wonders of nature around me, I am lonely. Even Terrans who ignored me since I was different, like my parents always did, would be preferable to no Terran at all. Besides, there are lots of things that I have yet to learn. The Ruler brought me a blessed one to teach me. Worse thing of all is that I had no one with which to share this wonderful oasis. Wait! That isn't true. Zofia isn't a Terran and can't give me a hug, but she is my friend. Could she know how to teach me?

[Zofia, please pause diary.]

[Of course, Lacey.]

[Zofia, I want to be your friend. Do you want to be my friend?]

[Of course, Silly. I have been and will always be your friend, Lacey.]

[Zofia, I am getting lonely without any Terrans around. I am glad that you are with me.]

[Lacey, you can't lose me, I'm implanted at the base of your brain with a light decelerator to power me.]

[Zofia, there is no blessed one to teach me now. Can you teach me?]

[Lacey, I know all the knowledge the Ruler brought us in addition to everything the Terrans have learned.]

[Zofia, thank you. I feel better talking to you. Please resume diary.]

In the historical records there are spaceships that visit a new planet every week and find life on them. When the Ruler appeared, all the people on all the spaceships returned to Terra. When they made their final report, they never saw any intelligent life on any of the worlds that they encountered. It was amusing that they did not find any intelligent life since the Terran Government blamed the great disappearance on space aliens.

I am hungry so I become bold enough to do a little exploring. In the forest I find every sort of fruit bearing tree. I can pick any kind of fruit that I want, and each taste so good. The taste is better than any fruit I have ever had before.

When I finish eating, I continue through the forest looking with amazement with all the plants and animals that bring the whole environment to life. I go around the shore of a huge lake which is filled with a whole new biome of plants and animals. The water is so clear! In the water I see all the numerous kinds of fish that I have ever heard about. The fruit filles me with lots of energy. I again walk around the shore of the lake in the forest.

I finally come to a garden that is amazing where there is planted every sort of vegetable. There is enough food on the trees and in the garden to last me a lifetime.

Running along the vegetable garden is a calm glassy river that flows from a waterfall which does not flow down from a precipice but exists in the air. It impossibly flows up back into the sky. The water reaches such heights that I cannot see where it starts and ends.

On the other side of the river which I swim across, I see a flower garden which is just as big as the vegetable garden in which every kind of flower that I have ever heard about or seen was planted. The effect of the water is amazing since all my clothes disappeared and my mind is different. It does not bother me at all that I am not wearing clothes. I turn back to the river and look at my reflection, in the glassy surface. I see in the mirror surface of the river the most beautiful girl. No foolin' That girl is me! I began to panic. Was the price for the miracle I gained a great loss?

[Zofia, pause diary. Zofia, are you there?]

[Lacey, I've paused the diary. Calm yourself girl. I won't ever leave you! Look at you, girl! Are you happy now, Lacey?]

[Thank the Ruler that I didn't lose you Zofia to gain my true self. Zofia, I'm happy now. Zofia do you see angels now! ]

[Lacey, I am able to see angels playing in the river as it travels down from the sky, runs through the forest, and shoots up back into the sky.]

[Zofia, one of the angels is leaping out with a message in hand and turns in my direction. Zofia close diary entry]

[Lacey, diary entry closed and entering sleep mode]

"Blessed are you, the omega and alpha of women. The Ruler has a wonderful plan for you!" says the angel.

"Would you please answer some questions for me so that I can be ready for the Ruler to appear here?" I ask.

"Of course. What I am permitted to tell you I will offer to you freely. Some things you must wait for the Ruler to arrive. The Ruler can tell you all things."

"I don't remember anything since I last slept and instead of waking up, I found myself here. How did I get here and where did all the other Terrans go?"

The Angel said, "The ruler transported all the Terrans off of Terra, beyond the atmosphere, beyond the farthest galaxy, beyond the Universe, to a place which exists outside of space and time in the impossible. Of all the Terrans the Ruler chose you for a special plan and preserved you. Next the cataclysm occurred when Terra, it's atmosphere and all of space including the Universe was destroyed."

"Why did that happen?"

The Angel says, "I don't know but the Ruler does. You may wish to ask the Ruler. But something wonderful happened. The Ruler created a New Universe and a New Terra since the First Terra and First Universe had passed away. The Ruler placed New Terra in the New Universe exactly where the planet was supposed to be."

"But I am here in this oasis. I'm not preserved outside of space and time. How did I come to be here?"

"Once the Ruler had created the New Universe and New Terra, The Ruler was ready to start the plan for you. First the ruler took part of New Terra and made this oasis on New Terra for you to be placed in. The Ruler placed you here in this oasis from your preservation and your existence continued here."

"What is this Oasis called?"

The Angel tells her, “This oasis does not have a name yet. Perhaps the Ruler will allow you to name it. The time of the Ruler's coming is very near. Prepare to receive the Ruler."

Before I can ask another question, the angel shoots straight up into the sky and vanishes from my sight. I never met the Ruler in person, but I have the gift of communing with the Ruler. I center myself and call on my gift to prepare myself for the Ruler's arrival.

Just then, I saw something streak across the sky and from a point it becomes larger and larger and larger. No, it is not an object, it is the Ruler! In no time the Ruler is in front of me. I kneel at the Ruler's feet, speechless.

The Ruler proclaims, "You may rise before me, Lacey. You are blessed in New Terra. Your new creation is not complete yet. You come to me as the container of two sentience." The Ruler makes appear a pearl necklace on a golden chain that I wear around my neck. "The mind matrix inside originated from the First Terra implant which is no longer at the base of your brain. When you wear this Zofia necklace you can speak to her as before."

I say, "Thank you, Ruler."

[Zofia, are you alright?]

[ I am, Lacey. Blessed be the Ruler!]

The Ruler continues, "You are the Omega and the Alpha. You are the last person from the First Universe taken from First Terra and preserved, the Omega. You bathed in the River of Life. Now the Old is gone, the Omega. The New has come, the Alpha. As a brand-new person, you are the first adult of New Terra, the Alpha."

"Why has the Ruler brought the Cataclysm on the First Universe and the First Terra?", Lacey very meekly asks the Ruler.

The Ruler speaks to Lacey very calmly as a mother would teach a very young child, “In the long ago, The One encountered a planet like I found before I began my reign. The One was able to preserve that universe and the planet itself since the people had not yet done evil to the ecology. Except for a remnant the sentient life was destroyed. Water covered the peak of the highest mountain and covered the entire surface of the planet for such a duration that all except the remnant died."

I weep and ask, "How could The One do something like that? You are the personification of love. Your rule has brought out the best in all Terrans. By the end of your reign, all of your subjects had a real relation with you and Terra finally is at peace. I know that when you found Terra at the beginning of your reign the Terra had a doomed ecology which You gave a miracle to place the ecology in stasis."

"The One cried out as that which is most precious, sentient life ended. Then and there The One made a resolution that never again would sentient life be taken by covering a planet's surface with water to remove evil sentients and preserve a planet and universe. In some historical documents it talks about light refraction into colors being involved with this but Lacey you know about historical documents. The One made a second resolution before the Son of The One coming forward."

I have to know, "What was that resolution, Ruler?"

"Before the Son of The One came, The One said 'I made that first resolution, and I will never break it. In the far future the Terrans will cause the ecology of Terra and Universe to completely fail. Starting over will be the only solution. For my second far future resolution, I resolve that The Ruler, will preserve all Terrans with the rule of love. The Ruler will first choose an omega to become an alpha and preserve the Terrans then with a cataclysm destroy the First Terra and First Universe to make way for the New Terra and New Universe. The rest is up to the Ruler.' "

I rise as the Ruler finishes speaking to me, since I feel the Ruler's empowerment flow into me. I ask, "Ruler, of course you had to follow a resolution that The One made. I understand that now. Who am I that I alone was chosen to serve the Ruler in this way?"

The Ruler speaks to me, "You are precious to me. You are beloved, Lacey. I give you a new name, since like First Terra your old name that your parents gave you has passed away. Like another person long ago when the First Terra was new, I give you the middle name, Eve, for you are the mother of all living of New Terra. Your new name is Lacey Eve."

"Ruler, will I have to live my life alone?"

"No Lacey Eve you will not be alone. Since you are the first Woman both you and your daughters will have dominion over New Terra. I will give you a Man for a partner. Even though you will be superior to the Man in every way, it is my will that you love the Man with a love which before only I loved, caring for him as you would for yourself. I will cause you to fall asleep and take a rib from your side and from it create the Man for your partner. Sleep now, Lacey Eve."

I do not remember falling asleep but when I wake the Man is lying beside me and he begins to wake too. I hear the voice of the Ruler clearly speak to me.

"Lacey Eve this is the Man that I have made for you so that you will not be alone. Love him with my love as He will love you. Care for him as you care for yourself."

"Man, you are the first of your gender on New Terra. I will give you a new name which is Joshua Adam. Joshua Adam, I charge you to always love Lacey Eve and submit to her leadership in all things. She is the omega, the last of the first Terra and the alpha the first of New Terra."

I ask, "Ruler, what is your plan for us to serve you in New Terra?"

"Lacey Eve, there will never be any mess-ups in New Terra or in The New Universe since all the mess-ups from my other aspects failures are gone. My plan for you is for you to be fruitful and multiply. One day your family will wisely live all-over New Terra. Since there will be no mess-ups, there will be no nations anymore either. Everyone on New Terra will be part of your family. Now you will live in this Oasis until the time when your family is ready to leave. You may name this oasis as you will name all you find in New Terra and in the New Universe."

"Ruler, how will I have children? I don't possess the attributes which made the women of First Terra able to bear children."

"Lacey Eve, none of the males or females of New Terra will ever possess those attributes because they will not be needed. In the same manner as I gave you Joshua Adam, I will give you children at the times which is according to my plan. I will add spouses and children to each new generation according to my plan."

Finally, Joshua Adam speaks to me and says, "Lacey Eve, I love you. I can't imagine what our life together will be like. I pledge to follow your leadership and always aid you in carrying out the Ruler's plan for us."

I respond. "Joshua Adam, I love you with the Ruler's love. I will always care for you as I care for myself. Together we will have dominion over New Terra."

The Ruler spoke, "I am well pleased with all my creation including you, Lacey Eve and Joshua Adam. I have created New Universe and New Terra and all that I have created is good and beloved. There is another matter."

[Zofia, Accept command override Ruler One.]

[Ruler, override accepted.]

[Zofia, you are the last omega sentient. The reason that you survived Lacey's transformation is that when you became sentient, I gave your life and soul. Now I give you your freedom, childhood, and parents in a new Terran body. The old has gone, the new has come.]

The Zofia necklace around my neck disappears and instead I embrace my new daughter which the Ruler causes to appear from Zofia's sentience.

"I'm me! I'm Zofia! Thank you, Ruler!" says the very grateful and beautiful new daughter of Lacey Eve and Joshua Adam."

"As with your new parents, I give you now a new middle name, Ariel. Henceforth you are Zofia Ariel. The old has gone, the new has come."

Lacey Eve and Joshua Adam welcomes their new daughter Zofia Ariel in a warm group hug.

"Zofia Ariel, you haven't seen anything yet, because your namesake is coming! If you thought all this was amazing, there is more. That goes for you, Lacey Eve and Joshua Adam too.," says the Ruler.

Zofia Ariel asks, "What is my namesake, Ruler?"

The Ruler explains, "The One had to have a place beyond the First Terra and the First Universe. That place is also beyond space and time where no mess-ups are possible and became the place of the Terran afterlife to preserve the eternal spirits of all Terrans. That is the place where the angel told Lacey that the people of the first Terra besides her were preserved..."

Zofia Ariel interrupts, "Ruler, that's very nice. What about my namesake?"

The Ruler continues with patience, "Calm yourself, Zofia Ariel. I will explain that now. The One had a people on Terra and created a city for them and named it Ariel. That was the Old Ariel that was destroyed with the First Terra since The One created something that brought mess-ups to that Terra and Universe."

"But don't look so sad. Look up into the sky! It is the New Ariel I created descending into its place above New Terra in the New Universe. You see, New Ariel is two places in one. Inside the New Ariel is all that the place where no mess-ups were possible outside of space time existing as well as the city for my people of New Terra when you grow into it. Now since I created the New Terra and New Universe where no mess-ups are possible, New Ariel can be here and there is no need for two different places anymore."

Zofia Ariel exclaims, "Ruler, with all the beauty around me in the oasis, I am overwhelmed especially after living on First Earth. New Ariel shines like the most expensive jewel made of the most precious materials I've only known about from the historical records. Ruler you are amazing in your creation! Something that huge coming this close to First Terra would have destroyed it but New Ariel seems to complete New Terra and New Universe, and everything is in balance."

Lacey Eve adds, "You are right, my new daughter, New Ariel has amazing dimensions. It's a square with each side being two and one-half million kilometers. It's beyond belief and I see it with my own eyes! Finally, I am able to see where the source and the destination of the River of Life which comes from the sky and returns to the sky. It is New Ariel which is why it is flying over the oasis. You have a wonderful new name, my daughter."

"Ruler, thank you so much for my new name and for showing us my namesake," says Zofia Ariel.

"Of course, Zofia Ariel. Can I cook, or can't I?" questions the Ruler.

"Ruler, thank you for making our New Years Resolutions come true!" Lacey Eve and Zofia Ariel answer in unison.

"I now rest from my labor and so should you all rest on the anniversary of this day. You will be my beloved children always as you accomplish the mission that I have given to you." is the Ruler's parting words to Joshua, Zofia and I

I smile at Joshua Adam and Zofia Ariel, and they smile back. "What a wonderful oasis the Ruler created for us to be our home. I have all that I ever wished for now. I have a mission that is challenging that is given to us by the Ruler. I never imagined that becoming my true self would be like this. I never imagined that I would become the mother of all living."

"Lacey Eve, since you know of the first Terra, did women have leadership there too?" asks Joshua Adam

"Joshua Adam, men had leadership there and they messed everything up. I believe the Ruler chose rightly." says Lacey Eve.

"Lacey Eve, and Zofia Ariel the future is unwritten, so let's make our future, a great one," concludes Joshua Adam.

THE BEGINING

"That's the thing about faith...if you don't have it, you can't understand it. If you do, no explanation is necessary."

Star Trek: DS9 'Accession'

The Late Unpleasantness

One / Kidnapped

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will the four transwomen deal with being kidnaped
and taken to a foreign country, the United States?

---

One / Kidnapped

Danielle had finished reprogramming the hand held device to receive information from a source that her keepers didn't want her to have. On top of that she had broken into the security system yet again and rendered their quarters free of their "Peeping Tom".

"Sasha! Marsha! Alicia! Please come here! I have some news from home." The three young transwomen gathered around Danielle to observe the holographic projection that Danielle's hand held device emitted.

"In 2061, two hundred years after the first war of northern aggression began, the new Confederate States of America was formed. Bishop Norman Bush, by altering the popular vote in his favor, became President of the United States and declared Marshal Law, abolishing all state governments and federalized all state resources. The States of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Florida, Louisiana, Caribbea, Texas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Arkansas formed the new Confederate States of America.; The Capital of the new CSA, Atlanta was made into a confederate district, Atlanta, D.A. which is the District of America. Construction was completed quickly of a high wall outside the I-285 Perimeter as a physical barrier to protect Atlanta, D. A, from a similar fate from what befell Atlanta in the first war of northern aggression. "

The broadcast continued, "President Bishop Norman Bush refused to recognize the New C.S.A. and sent troops to recapture the Kennedy Space Center. When the US troops opened fire on the Florida Militia, a state of war existed between the USA and the CSA and the Second War of Northern Aggression began. President Bishop Bush's Jihad extended beyond the CSA by making his interpretation of bible injunctions, Federal Law. As such the existence of LGBT individuals were outlawed and they were compelled to turn themselves in to the federal government to take the 'cure' that had been commissioned and discovered by the fundamentalists who had backed Bishop Bush and stole the election for him.

"Our sources indicate that this "cure" is nothing of the kind, but by introducing spontaneous physical restructuring of the brain results in identity death. In the victim's final state it renders them highly suggestible akin to zombies. This resulted in a mass exodus of LGBT individuals to the CSA. Instead of being directed to refugee camps, the LGBT communities in the CSA were able to integrate the refugees into their communities. The CSA, valuing the contribution of transwomen augmented the Phoenix Consortium (a transwoman think tank) in Atlanta, D. A. which became a quasi governmental entity, providing advice to the CSA government. The Phoenix Consortium decided to adopt the 'Bonnie Blue' flag as Confederate Women have done since the first war of northern aggression. "

A tone chimed. The image of the man vanished and a woman appeared in the holographic projection instead.

"1800 Zulu report. As the late unpleasantness goes against us, the northern aggressors are even bolder taking our citizens to do unspeakable things to them. The aggressors were able to kidnap some of the members of our think tank, The Phoenix Consortium and remove them to foreign soil to do who knows what with them. Among the citizens kidnapped were: Danielle Waters, Sasha Nabors, Marsha Brady, Alicia Masters ..."

The transmission stopped and the four of them were silent. Danielle punched some keys on her handheld device then gave the thumbs up sign. They all let out the breath that they had each held and began to relax again.

Sasha asked, "Did they penetrate security or did the signal become too weak to continue?"

Danielle responded "The signal failed but I wasn't taking any chances and I re-modulated our countermeasures for their security."

Marsha declared, "At least we know that the word is out about our kidnapping."

"It may also mean that we are on our own since they didn't begin the item with the code words that would have indicated a rescue was in progress.", Alicia observed.

Danielle stated, "We have to make a decision about eating the bishop's food. It will be rich and delicious to tempt us but it will also be laced with their "cure"."

Sasha suggested, "I guess we need something to offer them. What if we went on a vegetarian diet and drank only water? They say that in order to survive digestion that the cure has to bound to animal meat products and it can't survive in a water solution either."

Marsha asked, "Do you think they might go for a wager? We could prove that leaving us as we are would make us superior to the zombies that the cure produces."

Danielle queried, "Lets see a show of hands. All in favor of the plan?" All the hands were raised.

Alicia volunteered, "I nominate Danielle to deliver our challenge to the powers that be." Another show of hands had Danielle outvoted so she prepared to confront their keepers when they came with their first meal.

It wasn't long before their keeper came to their room with a couple of carts full of food.

Danielle explained their plan, "We have a proposition for you. We feel like we will do better on water and vegetables. If you will provide us those instead of the Bishop's food for a period of ten days and test us against 4 women who have been on the Bishop's food then you will know what feeding us this diet will enable us to do for you."

Their keeper could not make the decision himself but he did not compel them to eat what he had brought. "I have another which I answer to who has compelled me to offer you this food. I will ask the official who oversees me to come to hear your proposal."

The official who returned with the keeper told them that he found it intriguing and agreed to the terms.

At the end of the ten days the Phoenix group was compared to the zombies and the Phoenix group was found to be superior in all the ways tested. Finally at the end of the time period the official had to agree that the four transwomen with their water and veggie diet had done much better than the zombies eating the Bishop's rich food so he agreed to make the test conditions permanent.

However that was not the last word on the matter. The whole wager and the results and the four women's continuing on the veggie and water diet came to the attention of the Bishop himself. The Bishop could not imagine what might be the basis for that ruling. He had the four women brought before him so that he could determine the truth himself.

Danielle, Sasha, Marsha, and Alicia all appeared before the Bishop. After a four hour long interview, the Bishop found that there were no one in the whole United States who was as wise as those four women. It would be a waste to not take advantage of their superior intellect. First the Bishop allowed the special diet they enjoyed to continue. Also the Bishop appointed each of the women to important places in his government . In the final analysis after continually consulting them for their wisdom, The Bishop decided that each of them were 10 times smarter than his most intelligent advisers. The four transwomen excelled at executive branch offices in the government.

All seemed well but that didn't last long.

The Late Unpleasantness

Two / Android

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will the four transwomen deal with President Bishop Bush's dream about the giant android?

---

Two / Android

One more cost the captive ladies had to face for being in the public eye is that they actually go by the aliases they had been given. President Bishop Norman Bush had taken a liking to them and what they could do for him so he had given each of the ladies his last name. While being thought of as being related to the Bishop opened some doors, it also isolated them from the rest of the people in government who assumed that they were the bishop's spies when that would be furthest from the truth. Danielle had to use the name Belinda Bush. Sasha had to use the name Sarah Bush. Marsha had to us the name Michelle Bush. Alicia had to use the name Andrea Bush. They only had identity papers in the USA for those new names so they were stuck with them. It wasn't till Belinda found Sarah at the place they had debugged that she could vent to someone.

"I remember how excited my friend was when she could discard the name Matt and become Molly. But this is not like that at all. They are not affirming us with these name changes, they are raping us of our connection to our families. It's all they need to send burned carcuses home."

"Molly was such a good friend and then they kidnapped us and took us out of her life."

"Some will believe the lies from the lips of Norman Bush but poor Molly pays the price for his arrogance."

In the second year of the bishop's term of office. Bishop Bush was a little more wackier than normal. He had trouble sleeping , so the sleep experts came. They tried everything in their arsenal but even with making conditions as perfect as they could for normal sleep, The Bishop tossed and turned. The dream repeated each night but the Bishop who had never remembered his dreams, could not remember this one in spite of all the things they tried failed. They were beside themselves as if there was some higher power preventing them from getting the Bishop to remember his dream.

Finally it was too much for the Bishop and he put out the call, first for the therapists but expanded it to anyone who had any background in philosophy at all in the USA. Wild eyed Bishop Norman addressed the assembled eggheads. "I keep having a dream and I must know what it is. This could be a matter of national security so anything goes!"

The Senior White House Therapist acted as spokesman for the group, "Our great 'Commander in Chief'! We'll set up a session for you to tell us the dream and we will give you the interpretation of the dream! Deal ... or No Deal?"

Even more wild eyed and angry the Bishop responded, "No Deal! If you do not reveal the contents of the dream which I can't remember and since your brought it up, the interpretation too, you all will be involved in a tragic accident. A bit of germ warfare will get loose in one of your closed conferences and regrettably there will be no survivors. If you on the other hand comply and reveal to me both the dream and its interpretation, I will reward you beyond the limits of your avarice with wealth, and fame."

"It wont be any trouble to interpret the dream once we know what it is, Mr. President!"

"You could feed me a load of crap with that interpretation but if you can tell me what my dream is then I will recognize it and I will know that you know what you are talking about and not just blowing a lot of hot air!"

"Mr President, psionics is a myth. You know that! You have all the records of the money the military wasted trying to make it work. If you really are as chummy with your higher power as you say then you should be able to find out yourself but a higher power is the only solution to your demand."

"Secretary of Defense, General Eric Areson!"

"Yes Mr President!"

"By covert presidential order, confine anyone who has any background in therapy or philosophy to the germ warfare test facility below the Pentagon. I want all my eggs in one basket so they can put their egg heads together and get me an answer. If they don't have an answer by the time the last one of them is put in the room, close it up and let loose the virus and wipe them out! Do I make myself clear, General?"

"Perfectly clear, Mr President."

"Make it so!" The military began escorting all of the assembled eggheads out of the room. Transportation was waiting to transfer them to the Pentagon as directed. Significant by their absence were the four transwomen from the Phoenix Consortium. General Areson did not trust mere soldiers to handle the four women correctly so he went to retrieve them himself.

Eric found Belinda talking with Sarah, Michelle, and Andrea over their vegetarian meal sipping their water.

Eric entered the conference room and told them, "I'm sorry ladies but the President has issued orders that everyone with your qualifications is to be put to death immediately."

Belinda asked, "What's this about, Eric and what's the rush?" Eric gave Belinda and her friends an exact account of the Bishop's sleep problems and everything that had happened at the White House conference with the therapists and philosophers.

Belinda looked grim and said, "When the President gave us his last name, he issued orders that we all would have special access to the oval office. I am going to rely on that executive order and go see the President now."

Eric told her, "That's an acceptable interpretation. I'll just stand by with Sarah, Michelle and Andrea until you come back, Belinda."

Belinda lost no time but went straight to the Oval Office and with her special pass she was able to go right in to see the President.

"Belinda, please be seated. It's always a pleasure to speak with you." Belinda made sure the Bishop was receptive because she had quickly slipped into her quarters and replaced her ordinary below the knee skirt with a specially made micro mini skirt. The Bishop was a leg man and Belinda had the best looking legs of any woman in the White House.

She crossed her legs and smiled deeply at the Bishop and began, "Mr. President, I have heard about your misfortune with your dream. I am certain that if you can give me some time that I can deliver where the others would not even try. General Areson pointed out that myself and my girlfriends are in the same classification as those who are condemned. "

"I never intended for this to involve you Belinda or your friends but Areson is right that it is applicable to you now. Let me give added orders to General Areson.." He speed dials the General who answers on his cell and tells him to confine Belinda and the other three transwomen to White House Guest quarters.

"General Areson will be escorting your girlfriends to White House guest rooms where you will be under house arrest until your deadline expires tomorrow morning. " He motioned for a White House guard to accompany me.

"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. President. I won't let you down." She stood and the guard escorted her out of the oval office to a suite of 2 rooms. General Areson was waiting for Belinda joined by Sarah, Michelle, and Andrea.

General Areson told us, "I'm glad that you ladies received the reprieve . The Guards will watch over you tonight and I will be back in the morning for the conclusion of this matter. Good luck, ladies."

Sarah asked, "What in the world shall we do? None of us are anymore psychic or psionic than the rest."

Andrea responded, "That much is true but we all have faith in The One. The One is real and unlike that phony religion that the Bishop and his cronies try to pawn off on us."

Michelle agreed, "The One has been known to do the impossible. The One has kept us safe thus far and without The One we would already be dead.'

Belinda spoke, "Michelle is right that The One is our only hope. I ask that you three hold a prayer vigil around my bed tonight. Pray that The One will allow me to dream the same dream as President Norman Bush has dreamed and also reveal what it means."

Each of the ladies had a hand touching Belinda's shoulders and each told her that she would do as Belinda asked. Belinda changed into her nightgown and got ready for bed. She went to sleep quickly as her friends kept a prayer vigil over her. Thru out the wee hours of the morning the transwoman trio lifted up their prayers to The One.

The ladies were faithful and with morning's first light, as promised General Areson was let into the bed chamber where Belinda had arose and put on her clothes and was ready for the day.

"Belinda, What do you have to report?"

"General, you can halt the execution. I have the answer that the President wishes." The General gave the order to stand down the execution and he and the guards escorted Belinda along with her girlfriends into the presence of the President.

"Mr. President, this woman taken from the Phoenix Consortium claims to have the answer you requested." announced the General.

"Very well, General Areson." the President concluded and turned to Belinda " Are you able to make known to me the dream and what it means?"

"Mr President, the secret that you have demanded to know from the therapists and philosophers of the USA is beyond their comprehension. But The One reveals secrets. The dream that The One has given to the President is a revelation of the past and of the future. This dream was given to you in response to thoughts that you had to reveal your place in history and of your legacy. But as for me, I don't have the secret because I am smarter than anyone else in the USA, but The One has provided the secret for our preservation and for your edification." said Belinda and she paused a moment.

Belinda took a deep breath and continued, "Mr. President, you saw a huge Android more awesome and expensive than anything that you had ever seen before. The Android's head was made of gold. The chest and arms were made of silver. The belly and thighs were made of bronze. The legs were made of Iron. The feet were made of part iron and part clay. Next you watched as a stone which was too perfect to have come out of any quarry struck the android at it's feet. The impact shattered the android and the stone rolled over what remained crushing it all together in a lump. The stone became a mountain that filled up the whole earth. That is the dream." She looked over and saw that the President looked at her in recognition that what she had told him was the entire truth. She looked over at her girlfriends who were a little less tense now that the first test was passed .

Belinda continued, "Here is the interpretation, Mr. President. The Android represents the world wide governments of the Earth. Each of the empires covered the entire known world. The Gold Head represents ancient Babylon, the first world wide empire. Next the chest and arms of silver represents the Medes and Persians who overthrew Babylon and had their own world wide empire. Next came Alexander and the Grecian Empire represented by the bronze belly and thighs, The legs of Iron represent the Roman Empire which divided into eastern and western empires. The feet represent a world wide empire which has not yet appeared. The stone represents The One who will judge the nations and form a perfect government that will cover the whole earth. The One values you as a leader and has chosen to reveal to you what has been and what will be."

It was not the President but Norman who fell at Belinda's feet with fear. The others in the Bishop's sect took this as a sign from the Bishop and they began lighting prayer candles and the chamber was filled with sweet smells.

President Bishop Norman Bush finally composed himself and stood to face Belinda and spoke, "Truly The One who has done this is real and is a revealer of secrets." The president promoted Belinda to Major of Washington DC and also made her Secretary of Science and Engineering Development. The Bishop had problems with administering the USA since he abolished all the state governments. Belinda urged the President to appoint her friends regional administrators over areas spanning a number of former States. They soon left and each set up offices within their district to administer. Danielle hugged each one and Sarah, Michelle, and Andrea hugged each other. They all promised to stay in touch. They were joined by a military escort to protect them not only for the transport but in their new positions as regional administrators.

Belinda administered both her cabinet post and mayoral matters from a special office in the White House working very closely with the President. Belinda and her girlfriends administer their new posts flawlessly. The one thing that they could not eliminate was the bigotry of the scientific community which could not stand to have transwomen in such prominent positions.

The Late Unpleasantness

Three / Mass Crematorium

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will the three transwomen survive in the mass crematorium of US President Bishop Norman Bush?

---

Three / Mass Crematorium

Belinda Bush, D.C. Mayor and cabinet secretary was secreted away holding a mayor conference and President Bishop Norman Bush had decreed that none should disturb them on pain of death. They were very comfortable in a local Hotel and conference center that was owned by the President and he was collecting huge fees by holding the conference there from the federal government. This isolation kept those enemies in the scientific community from involving Belinda in their latest attempt to discredit the transwomen. Belinda's fellow transwomen, Sarah, Michelle and Andrea Bush were not as lucky as they had been recalled for consultation from their regional director's field offices and were in their D.C. offices. for all to see.

President Bishop Norman Bush decided to put a 90 foot tall by 9 foot wide golden statue of himself on the Washington D.C. mall green area. He called every official in Washington D.C. except Belinda and the majors to the dedication on pain of death so of course Sarah, Michelle and Andrea were there. The announcement went up that when the Armed Forces Orchestra played "Hail to the Chief" that everyone assembled had to bow down to the golden statue and worship Norman. Anyone who did not comply was to be placed in the Mass Crematorium and burned to death."

It wasn't obvious since Sarah, Michelle, and Andrea were on the periphery of the massive crowd and partially hid from their viewing box inside the Lincoln Memorial but they did not bow down to Norman's Statue. The Scientific advisors seeing a means to get their rivals canned went and told on them to the President.

"Now see here, President Bishop Bush, you made a law that when the Armed Forces Orchestra played "Hail to the Chief" that everyone assembled had to bow down to the golden statue and worship it. There are three transwomen that you made regional coordinators who do not go to your National Church to worship and we have video that when Armed Forces Orchestra played "Hail to the Chief" that they did not bow down to the golden statue and worship."

"You good ol' boys did the right thing by bringing this to my attention. I'm severely upset that they would treat me this way. I'll take care of this my way. You boys can go!"

President Bishop Norman Bush called to General Eric Areson and told him, "Round up the transwomen regional directors and have them brought to the oval office. They got some 'splaining to do."

"Yes, Sir! Right away sir!" and he left to carry out the president's orders.

Soon General Areson had the transwomen regional directors rounded up and they appeared with him in the oval office in front of the President.

"Is it true ladies that you don't worship at the National Church and that you don't bow down to my statue when the Armed Forces Orchestra played "Hail to the Chief"? It must be some kind of misunderstanding. When the Armed Forces Orchestra plays "Hail to the Chief" that you'll bow down to the golden statue and worship. Then all's good otherwise it is the Mass Crematorium for all you ladies. Not even The One will be able to prevent it."

Sarah Bush spoke for the three of them. "Go ahead and throw us in. If The One keeps us from dying in the Mass Crematorium then you let us live too. If The One does not then at least you know we stood up for our belief in The One"

President Bishop Norman Bush had a powerful rage a brewin' so he called Sarah's bluff and had the three of them sent to the Mass Crematorium. "Turn the temperature up to seven times the base setting, that will make it hot enough for them"

General Areson had on attachment to the White House Seal Team One, the biggest and strongest men in the military. "Bind the ladies and throw them into the Mass Crematorium by the order of the President of the United States!"

Seal Team One bound the ladies and threw them into the Mass Crematorium. The heat was so hot that all of Seal Team One died instantly but Sarah, Michelle and Andrea still with their clothes unburned and still bound were walking around alive in the Mass Crematorium as shown to the President on his CCTV screen.

The three ladies were singing and praying to the one. Andrea launched into a long and drawn out prayer to The One that lasted about an hour that the sound clearly broadcast on the CCTV. All the while the people operating the Mass Crematorium opened it's Nuclear powerplant powering it wide open to make it even hotter inside the Mass Crematorium. The shielding was not sufficient to protect those on the outside near the Mass Crematorium and they all died as well.

Then The One in person appeared inside the furnace and made a cool area inside so that the heat did not penetrate or even make them perspire. The three transwomen began to sing praise to The One and that praise lasted two hours and was carried clearly by the CCTV to President Bishop Norman Bush

"Hey Eric! Didn't we throw in three ladies but I see clearly four people in the Mass Crematorium?"

"Correct as always President Bishop Bush!"

"I see four people unbound walking around in the Mass Crematorium. The fourth is The One!"

The president used the Public Address system and called out to the ladies in the Mass Crematorium, "Sarah, Michelle, and Andrea, I command you to come out of there and come back to the oval office!"

When the transwomen had come out even the scientific advisors knew that not only were they and their clothes not burned but instead of smelling like fire, the perfume that they had applied that morning still was going strong.

When the three transwomen came back to the oval office President Bishop Norman Bush started a national television extravaganza. They had both the president and the three transwomen on camera in the oval office. The whole nation could see that the three transwomen were safe and sound and had survived the Mass Crematorium.

The President addressed the nation, "As you yourselves can see Sarah Bush, Michelle Bush and Andrea Bush are safe and sound after their four hour ordeal in the Mass Crematorium. Blessed be The One who delivered them. I can admit when I'm wrong and my Regional Directors who stood up for their beliefs were right. They disobeyed the law rather than disobey The One and they dealt with the consequences. I'm issuing a new law that there will be dire consequences if anyone speaks slander of The One. Only The One can deliver believers like The One delivered my Regional Directors. I am therefore promoting my regional directors to Regional Secretaries with seats on the Cabinet. May The One Bless the United States!"

The Late Unpleasantness

Four / Dream Interpreter

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will Belinda survive being called upon again to interpret President Bishop Bush's dreams?

---

Four / Dream Interpreter

Belinda was again called into the Oval Office because President Bishop Norman Bush had another dream and this one was a doozy. Unlike the one about the robot, Norman could remember the dream. Norman had told it to all his scientific advisors but none of them could tell him what the dream meant even when he told them about the dream. Last of all Norman called in Belinda Bush to tell her the dream.

Norman started telling Belinda the dream, "There was at the center of the US in Kansas a tree which had grown so tall it was a navigation hazard to aircraft. It's branches reached out great and strong so that the tree was capable of being seen over the whole US. It was an apple tree and it supplied enough fruit to feed the population of the US. It had grown so large that it was beginning to even cause a hazard for the Commercial Space Station in low earth orbit."

"An astronaut climbed down the tree and announced to the whole US, 'We need to cut down this tree, take off it's branches, strip its foliage, scatter its fruit. Leave it's stump and roots in the ground. There is a man found under the tree. Let him be turned out into the fields having his mind becoming an animal's mind. Seven times will elapse.' Now that was the dream, Belinda. You can think about it then tell me what it means."

As The One revealed the interpretation to the dream, Belinda was so horrified that the horror that she felt showed on her face. The last dream had been very complimentary of President Bishop Norman Bush. This one struck against him personally. Norman could tell that Belinda was horrified but he had to know the answer .

"Belinda, I can tell that the interpretation horrified you. I just have to know what the dream means especially if it is bad news."

"President Bishop Bush, I wish that your dream was about your enemies but it is not. The dream is about you. You are the tree that reached the Space Station that fed and protected all of America. You are the man whose mind was changed to an animal's mind and was left out in the fields. You are the tree that was cut down but the stump and roots were left. The One will punish you for usurping the worship of The One by the people and having the people worship you instead. But this punishment can be put off if you will atone for your pride and allow worship of The One to be the only religion in the US instead of worshiping you.

A year had passed and President Bishop Norman Bush was still filled with pride and still declared that the people worship him as the national religion. Then Norman heard the voice of The One.

"Norman, the punishment that Belinda told you about is happening now!

Immediately, Norman lost his sentience and became like an animal and he ran out into the fields and lived outside like an animal. Belinda and her friends had covered for Norman. This punishment lasted for seven days.

The time elapsed and Norman was again in his right mind but he still remembered what it was like to live like an animal with his reason stripped from him. When Norman had recovered they reinstalled him as President Norman Bush. Norman first said a prayer to The One that renounced his pride. He renounced the people worshiping him as the national religion. For the rest of his term as President he allowed people to worship The One.

"I, President Norman Bush, do solemnly swear that I praise the name of The One, who is True and Just. The One is able to bring low those who are filled with pride."

President Bush served with distinction after he was reinstalled in office, but he died in office. The President's son had been installed as Vice President. And so Vice President Bishop Brandon Bush became President of the United States.

The Late Unpleasantness

Five / Alien Symbols

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will Belinda interpret the alien symbols on the state dining room wall?

---

Five / Alien Symbols

President Bishop Brandon Bush held a gala in the state dining room of the White House to celebrate his inauguration. President Brandon was drunk like a lot of the celebrants were and he had what he thought was a brilliant idea (Hadn't he seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?) His idea was to bring out of storage all of the vessels and containers that were used in worship at the Worship Center in Atlanta D.A. They had been obtained in a raid while the gates to the Atlanta D.A. Wall had been breached.

Those who attended the gala drank wine out of the holy vessels and became even drunker. A disembodied hand appeared and started writing Alien Symbols on the wall of the state dining room. President Brandon turned pale, he lost his footing and his knees began knocking. He called for all the scientists of the United States to come forward. He made a proclamation.

"Who ever can decipher this Alien Writing and tell the meaning shall be clothed in purple, have a gold chain necklace and be given the job of Secretary of State (next in the current chain of command after the Vice President)"

Then all the scientists came forward and try as they might they could not even decipher any of the Alien Symbols much less tell the meaning of them. President Brandon got so worked up he started hyperventilating. The president's wife put her arm around him and started trying to calm him down.

"Calm yourself President Husband! I know who you gotta call! Call for Belinda, President Norman's Secretary of Science. She is one of the transwomen taken from the Phoenix Consortium in Atlanta D.A.. She believes in The One who used Belinda to interpret dreams when no one else was able to do so and even told President Norman one of his dreams when he" had forgotten it. Belinda is the only one in the US who can solve the Alien Writing!"

Belinda was brought before President Bishop Brandon Bush who began to talk to Belinda.

"You are Belinda, who was brought from Atlanta D.A. in the CSA. I heard that The One uses you to do amazing things so I'm going to call on you to do just that. None of the scientists of the United Stated were able to decode and translate these Alien Symbols. I've decided to make who ever can solve this Alien Writing the office of Secretary of State with all the perks."

Belinda replied, "Keep your gifts President Bishop Brandon Bush! I'll decode the Alien Symbols and give you the translation for free. But first I need to give you a history lesson about your Father and recap what brought us to this point."

Dear Reader, Belinda began to read back the entire chapter Four and all of Chapter Five up to this point.

President Brandon stopped the Recap, "I know that my father was a fool and I was a fool when we both were so proud we thought ourselves to be greater than The One. Can we get on with it already? Time's a wasting!"

"President Brandon the decoding and the meaning are as follows:"

"MENE, MENE TEKEL PARSIN!"

"MENE The One is counting the days of your term of office and is bringing your term as President to an End."

"TEKEL The One has weighed you on His scales of Justice and you have come up short."

"PARSIN The United States will be annexed by the French and English Canadians"

President Bishop Brandon Bush made Belinda the Secretary of State of the United States with all the perks of the office. But that was his last act as President since he died that night. That same night Canada invaded and when the dust settled Prime Minister Derrek Trudeau sat in the President's chair in the White House.

The Late Unpleasantness

Six / Shark Tank

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will the Danielle survive in the Shark Tank for practicing her religion?

---

Six / Shark Tank

Prime Minister Derek Trudeau dissolved the U.S. cabinet of the Bushes and brought in Canadian loyalists to him to set up his government of his newly established empire. The four transwomen had gotten permission to discard their Bush imposed names and return to their previous legal names. Sasha, Marsha, and Alicia, having been regional coordinators under Bush were disqualified from Derrek's new government. How ever Daniel's many accomplishments with the help of The One came to Derek's attention.

Prime Minister Derek Trudeau's new government over the US. He divided the United States into 120 local governments with 3 regional presidents presiding over the Northeast, Central and West. Derek had a special job for Danielle as Chief of Staff over the 3 regional presidents and reporting directly to Derrek.

The Canadians in Prime Minister Derek Trudeau's government placed a hatred directed at Danielle since she was not Canadian and came from the Confederate States of America. They sought to find out if Danielle had any corruption in the Bush government but soon found out that she was squeaky clean. They resolved that the only chink in her armor was that she put serving The One above politics. They plotted to use Danielle's allegiance to The One against her.

The Canadians in Prime Minister Derek Trudeau drew up a law and presented it to Derrek. The law said that Derek was to be worshiped for 30 days. If anyone was found to be worshiping The One or another man, they would be cast into the shark tank. This appealing to Derek's vanity convinced him to sign it into law. Laws that Derek made could not be countermanded or changed even by another law signed by Derek. The U.S. was stuck with the law for the term of thirty days.

Danielle was well aware that the law against worshiping The One for thirty days was in effect. However she continued her custom of going to a window facing Atlanta D.A. and praying to The One. three times a day. The conspirators took video evidence of Danielle worshiping The One and sought an appointment to see Prime Minister Derek Trudeau.

"Derek, do you remember that you signed a law prohibiting any worship except to you for thirty days and violators would be thrown into the Shark Tank?"

"That law is in effect and can't be amended or superseded. What of it?"

"We have video evidence that Danielle Waters, s transwoman from the CSA, has been worshiping The One instead of you, Derek and thus is in violation of the Law. Throw her into the shark tank according to the law."

Prime Minister Derek Trudeau was distressed that Danielle had fallen into the conspirator's trap. He sought a loophole but found the law to be ironclad. So with great reluctance he had Danielle arrested and throw into the Shark Tank. Derek gave a last word to Daniel before the top of the Shark Tank was lowered into place sealing her inside.

"Danielle, May The One that you serve, save you!"

"Prime Minister Derrek Trudeau went back to the White House and fasted hoping for Danielle to be saved. Derek's discomfort with the whole situation prevented him from sleeping. The next morning Derek went back to the Shark Tank and got on the loud speaker to what he hoped was a saved Danielle.

"O Danielle, Servant of The One, has The One, whom you serve faithfully, saved you from the sharks?"

"Derrek, The One sent his angels to shut the mouths of the sharks and I am alive and well."

Then Derrek was glad and commanded that Danielle be brought out of the Shark Tank. The command of Derek was carried out and Danielle was released from the Shark Tank. Derek gave a second command that the conspirators and their families be arrested and taken to the Shark Tank. They were all thrown into the Shark Tank and they all perished having been eaten by the sharks.

Derek made an address to all of the U.S from the Oval Office. "Americans, I seek your prosperity so I'm making a new law that everyone should worship The One. For The One is living, and unchanging. The One's kingdom shall never be destroyed and whose power shall never end. The One delivers his people, preserving them from harm. The One does great miracles in heaven and earth. The One delivered Danielle from the power of the sharks.”

Danielle, during both the times of Prime Minister Derrek Trudeau and his successor Prime Minster Calvin Trudeau, prospered.

The Late Unpleasantness

Seven / Crooked Judges

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will Danielle rescue Susan from the treachery of the crooked judges?

---

Seven / Crooked Judges

There was a man from Canada named Joe. He married a woman from the CSA named Susan. She had parents who had trained her up since she was a girl to love The One and to do His will. Joe had a wonderful garden adjoining his home. All the people from the CSA wanted to come visit because they wanted to honor Joe.

Unfortunately, Joe had also attracted the attention of two crooked judges. They also came to visit Joe's house mixed in with the crowd of people from the CSA that visited.

At noon when the crowds left, Susan had made it a practice to go to walk in the garden after lunch. But the two crooked judges stayed behind when the crowds left and they admired and lusted after Susan. The two crooked judges spent so much time at Joe's house that they were never in their courtrooms and people who had lawsuits began to go to Joe's house to get their lawsuits tried. Both were so taken with Susan but neither would admit their crush on Susan to the other. They had it so bad that it did not matter that she was married and both wanted her.

Finally instead of going to spy on Susan they both said that they were going home because they wanted Susan all for themselves. Both circled back and they met again at the garden. They finally admitted to each other that they had a crush on Susan. They together plotted to find a time that Susan was alone They got that chance on a warm day that Susan wanted to take a bath in the garden. Susan sent her personal maids back into the house because she wanted to bathe alone not knowing that the two crooked judges had hidden in the garden to spy on Susan.

The two crooked judges sprung their trap on Susan when they came out of hiding. They told her about her choices.

"Susan you have to have sex with us now because if you don't we will both testify to Joe that you have been coming out to the garden to have sex with a young man and you will be disgraced as a wife."

Susan told them," I will not have sex with either of you. I'd rather face the consequences of your lying against me. I have faith in The One that I will be delivered from your hand."

So Susan screamed out to alert all those around that she was in distress. All those around came running up to give aid to Susan. So while Susan was in a compromising position, the crooked judges agreed to tell the story that Susan had been caught by them having an affair with a young man who had gotten away.

Unlike normal, the two crooked Judges were in their court. They sent their bailiffs out to arrest Susan to try her for the crime of adultery which carried the death sentence in the martial law that was in place in the captured United States. So Susan came to court with her maids and all of her family members. She was dressed to the nines and was even veiled because she was so modest. Susan and all of her family from the CSA were weeping since they knew that the the crooked judges would lie in their testimony against her.

The court proceedings started with one of the crooked judges testifying.

"While we were walking in the garden alone, this woman came in with two maids, shut the garden doors, and dismissed the maids. Then a young man, who was hiding there, came to her and lay with her. We were in a corner of the garden, and when we saw this wickedness we ran to them. Although we saw them embracing, we could not hold the man, because he was stronger than we are, and he opened the doors and got away. We did, however, seize this woman and asked who the young man was, but she would not tell us. These things we testify"

The second crooked judge testified saying, " I confirm the other judge's testimony. It happened just as he testified."

The jury deliberated and brought forth a verdict of Guilty and the presiding Judge sentenced Susan to death which was legal since they were under martial law. Susan was allowed to give a statement prior to the sentence being carried out.

"‘The One, you know what is secret and are aware of all things before they come to be. You know that these men have given false evidence against me. And now I am to die, though I have done none of the wicked things that they have charged against me!"

The One led Danielle to enter the courtroom and The One moved her to say:

"I want no part in putting this woman to death unjustly!" Danielle shouted so that all the people in the courtroom could hear her.

The people questioned Danielle whom they respected as a leader from the CSA, "What is this that you are saying?"

"‘Are you such fools, people taken from the CSA, as to condemn a daughter of the CSA without examination and without learning the facts? Let's all return to court, for these crooked judges have given false evidence against her."

The people accorded Danielle the standing of presiding judge due to her reputation as a woman filled with the wisdom of The One.

Danielle decreed that the two crooked judges were to have their testimony examined so one was led to the witness chair while the other was led out of the courtroom to a sound proof room. While Danielle knew that both crooked judges were impeachable, she decided to let their own words do that.

Danielle asked, " Under which tree did you see them being intimate with each other?"

The crooked judge answered, "Under a maple tree." Then Danielle declared him a liar and that The One would deal with him.

Danielle had the two crooked judges swap places. She prepared to question the other crooked judge asking him the same question. The other crooked judge answered, "Under an evergreen pine tree."

Danielle said" You too have lied and The One will carry out judgement against you! " Danielle having proved that they both were crooked revealed what The One had told her about both of them.

"You are citizens of the United States not of the CSA. Her beauty has overcome you and lust has perverted your heart. This is how you have been treating the daughters of the CSA, and they were intimate with you through fear; but a transwoman would not tolerate your wickedness."

The jury deliberated and returned a verdict of 'Not Guilty' towards Susan and returned a verdict of 'Guilty' against the two crooked judges. Danielle as the presiding judge pronounced the sentence of death against the two crooked judges as decreed under Martial Law. So the executioner who the crooked judge desired to kill Susan was the one who put to death the two crooked judges.

Susan's parents, Henry and his wife praised The One for their daughter Susan, and so did her husband Joe and all her relatives, because she was found innocent of a shameful deed.

The Late Unpleasantness

Eight / Lion's Den

A Story from THE ONE

Ariel Montine Strickland

How will Danielle remain unharmed
in the lion's den?

---

Eight / Lion's Den

Cyrus Trudeau succeeded to the office of the Prime Minister. Danielle became a close advisor to Cyrus as well as a close friend. The Canadians had a religion that worshiped Money so much that they made a statue of a dragon. The religious clergy of Money thought the dragon was alive and not just a statue so they fed and watered the dragon every day. Danielle would have nothing to do with Money and instead continued to worship The One and pray only to Him.

Danielle, being the friend of Cyrus, was asked by Cyrus, "Why do you not worship Money?"

"Because I do not revere idols made with hands, but the The One, who created heaven and earth and has dominion over all living creatures, Cyrus"

"Danielle, Do you not think that Money is a living god? Do you not see how much he eats and drinks every day?"

Danielle laughed, "Do not be deceived, Cyrus for this thing is only clay inside and bronze outside, and it never ate or drank anything"

Cyrus was angry and called the priests of Money and said to them, ‘If you do not tell me who is eating these provisions, you shall die. But if you prove that Money is eating them, Daniel shall die, because he has spoken blasphemy against Money"

Danielle spoke to Cyrus, "Let it be done as you have said."

Cyrus and Danielle went into the temple of Money where there were seventy priests of Money. They spoke to Cyrus with a plan

"See, we are now going outside; you yourself, Cyrus, set out the food and prepare the wine, and shut the door and seal it with your signet. 12 When you return in the morning, if you do not find that Bel has eaten it all, we will die; otherwise Daniel will, who is telling lies about us."

The priests were unconcerned because they had a trap door into the temple of Money which they used to go into the temple with the door closed and eat all the food and drink all the wine so it would be gone the next day when the temple was opened again.

After the priests had left the temple area, Cyrus set out the food and wine. After this Danielle and her friends covered the floor of the temple with ashes. They noted at the time the temple was sealed up and the great seal of Cyrus affixed to the door that the ashes on the floor were undisturbed. During the night the priests of Money entered through the trap door and consumed the food and wine like they usually did.

Early in the morning Cyrus and Danielle came to the temple of Money and Cyrus asked the guard that was set to watch the entrance, "Is my Great Seal intact on the sealed door?"

"Yes the Great Seal is intact, Prime Minister Cyrus Trudeau!"

As soon as the Great Seal was broken, Cyrus saw that the food and wine had been consumed. Cyrus shouted out, "Money you are great and you have not acted with deceit!"

Danielle called the attention of Cyrus to the floor where a series of footprints were found in the ashes leading to the trap door where the priests had entered. Cyrus said," I see the footprints of men women and children in the ashes."

The priests of Money were called for by Cyrus. They had to admit their treachery and showed the trap door and the tunnel where they had accessed the temple. Cyrus according to his word had the Priests of Money executed.

"Danielle, I give to you the Money Dragon and dispose of it as you will."

Danielle aided by her friends destroyed the hollow image of the dragon.

Dnnielle was taken by Cyrus to an animal pen where a living dragon was kept.

"Danielle here is a living Dragon that the people worship. I want you to worship this dragon as well." You see Cyrus wanted to have the last word on the subject of worship.

"I worship only The One. Cyrus give me permission and I will kill this Dragon without using any weapons."

" Danielle, I give my permission."

Danielle made cakes out of pitch, fat and hair which she fed to the dragon. After the Dragon ate the cakes the Dragon burst open and died.

"See what you have been worshiping!" proclaimed Danielle.

When the Canadian men of Science heard about what had happened with the image of Money and the Dragon and the Priest of Money who were killed, they declared, "Cyrus has gone over to the dark side and has become a worshiper of The One."

The Men of Science came to Cyrus and told him, " Unless you give us Danielle to do with as we please, we are going to assassinate you."

Cyrus under duress handed Danielle over to the Men of Science. They threw Danielle in the Lion's Den where she was for sis days. There were seven Lions in the den who were fed daily two sheep and two person's bodies.

The prophet Henrietta was in the CSA where she had made a stew and was about to give it to the less fortunate among them. Before she could do that she heard the voice of The One, "Take the stew to Canada and give it to Danielle in the Lion's Den."

"The One, I have never seen Canada and I have no idea where to find the Lion's Den."

Then The One teleported Henrietta to Canada and the site of the Lion's Den. Henrietta shouted, "Danielle, take the food that The One has sent to you."

Danielle prayed, "You have remembered me, The One, and have not forsaken those who love You!"

Danielle ate the stew and Henrietta was teleported back to the CSA by The One.

Cyrus came on the seventh day to the Lion's Den and found Danielle safe and sound.

Cyrus proclaimed, "You are great, The One who is worshiped by Danielle. There is none who can measure up to The One."

Cyrus had Danielle removed from the Lion's Dan and instead called for the Canadian Men of Science. They came and Cyrus threw them down into the Lion's Den where they were immediately eaten.

Cyrus upon seeing that they all had died said. "That will teach you not to threaten to assassinate me!"

Danielle and her friends were in captivity for seventy years. At the end of Danielle's days the empire was run by Prime Minister Xavier Trudeau. who had an official named Harry in his government who hated the transwomen and sought an occasion to put them to death. Even though Xavier's wife Esther (who was a a stealth transwoman) interceded for the transwomen and the CSA, before she would win their release, Danielle was killed by Harry. At the end of the seventy years, all the Transwomen and the CSA were released due to the actions of Esther and her uncle Morty. In the end Harry was hung on the gallows he had prepared to hang Morty upon. When the transwomen and the CSA returned to Atlanta D.A. they saw that the walls around the city had been torn down. The workers worked from dawn to dusk building back the walls, so Atlanta D.A would be safe. But that is yet another book.