Past made perfect

“So lets assume I wanted to make a man dress and act like a woman. How could I do it?”

“Against his will?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you were being crude, you could kidnap him, drug him, and use threats of rape or other bodily harm.”

“I would rather something more subtle.”

“LIke what?”

“Hypnotics.”

“Not terribly effective, or so I’ve heard.”

“It depends on how they’re used. For example, did you know it was possible to plant a memory? To make a man remember spending his childhood dressing up?”

“Like I did? Sounds far-fetched.”

Tears in a Bottle

One night, as I lay weeping in my bed, I fell asleep, and began to dream. In my dream, I was lifted up and passed through the gates beyond this life. Once there, I was attended by beings so vast and powerful I felt such shame just being in their presence I could hardly stand it.

But then He came, and I felt much worse.

It wasnt any particular sin that gave me pause, but everything about me was just so small and petty I expected Him to look at me with disgust.

But he didnt.

Phobia

Ever been scared of something?

Not just a little scared, but turn-white-and-faint, heart-caught-in-your-chest and soil-your-pants scared?

I had something I was that scared of as a kid. Something that made The Monster In The Closet or The Thing Under The Bed minor inconveniences in comparison.

It was a girl.

It was THE GIRL.

Not that SHE looked scary, or creepy, but just the fact SHE existed at all.

Because SHE was inside my head, always after me to let HER out.

A Cry in the Dark

Author's note. This is a sequel to "You", and has some tough emotional moments, including the allusion to a sexual assault. Read with care.

It was quiet in the hospital, with only the soft sounds of the machines to keep the girl in the bed company. Once in a while a nurse would come in, but otherwise, the girl had no visitors. This gave the girl a chance to think, especially about how she ended up here.

It started with one tragic fact. Although she knew she was a girl, to the people around her, she appeared to be a boy.

This one is pretty intense. Reader discretion is advised.

Last Entry

Well, it looks like this is it. Nobody is coming, or at least not in time to save me. The end of the line, as they say.

I’m gonna die.

Dont know why I’m writing this down. Nobody will find it, even if there is anybody left. But I want to, because that’s what I did my whole life - write.

Off to Seek a Wizard... by Erin Halfelven

 
My name is supposed to be Dale Steffani. Yeah, yeah, no relation. They had a contest back in my home town, a little place you may have heard of? Los Angeles, California?

Five Years Gone

Author’s note: this is a story of a possible future, and a bleak one at that. Take care reading it.

Hey guys, its Dot. Sorry its been so long since I’ve been on, but I’ve only just recently been allowed Internet privileges, and it took me a while to convince the Powers That Be to let me have the time away from therapy to post this update.

I look around at this place, and I can’t help wondering how the heck I ended up in here. How did things go so bad, so quickly?

“Have a nice day at work dad”, a young boy yells out the front door of his home.

Contrary to common opinion, not all zombies are flesh-hungry, thoughtless creatures. There are a few exceptions to this annoying stereotype.

Me.

My name is Ryla and I’m a zombie. And yes, I can talk. Sigh.

An Old Trope Revisited

I was in the change room, getting angrier by the moment. My own mother was pushing girl clothes on me! She’d dragged me into this shop, made me strip, and now had thrown skirts and dresses and girl’s underthings over the top of the door, and was demanding I put them on!

I really couldn’t believe my own mother would be doing something like this. Why would she want to turn me into a girl? Didn’t she love me just as I was? And what could I possibly do but go along with her plan?

Finally, an idea came to me, how I could end this torture.

The Registry -- Part 1 by Allexcited69

Introduction.

On and Over (1st draft preview)
by Cleo Kraft

PROLOG

Small soft hands opened the door and a cute little blonde girl's head peeked in the room. She bit her lower lip as she looked around for any sign of people around. Her breathing was hurried and panting a bit as she had just ran from the park all the way up Forest Avenue to Dr. Jenning's place.

This is a bit melancholy, but it wanted to be written and I just tried to keep up with what my muse was dictating. I hope you like it.

Song Credit to Ronnie Milsap: Lost In The 50s Tonight. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPDBGtr5asM
Lost In The Fifties Tonight, by Catherine Linda Michel

Oh yes, I remember... so, so well that night, the music, the feeling of being held in your arms, swaying together and hoping the moment would never end.

Close your eyes babyӬFollow my hear-eartӬ
Call on the mem'rie-ie-ies, ӬHere in the dar-ark
ӬWe'll let the magic Ӭ

Near the Threshold

Ever had an “ah ha!” moment? Where everything you think about changes? I had one. It started in an very odd place - my local swimming pool. I had just finished my swim, and I headed for the change areas when I made a simple mistake. I turned left instead of right, and walked into the woman’s change area. In my defense, I can’t see well without my glasses, and I was tired from my swim, so I missed the sign, and just went in.

We walked into the Lingerie and Foundation Garment store, the owner came over and greeted mum like an old friend, I didn`t know they had gone to school together and hadn`t seen each other for 14 years.

After a couple of minutes she asked if she could help mum.

"I need a Bra fitting" said mum

"If you`ll go into the changing booth I`ll measure you" said the woman

"Oh it`s not for me, it`s for my son" said mum

The mirror doesn’t lie.
It cannot for there is no capacity for deception
Merely reflects what is in its sights
When I step before a mirror
My mind’s eye is what gets shattered

Broken Down Angel…

Bump….
Crack…..
Bump…..

Shadira sighed just like any other woman whose patience was at that point where they’re about to throw their ands up in the air or cross their arms across their chest just under their breasts in that “Stop being an idiot.” kind of way.

Dorian looked over at her from the driver’s seat and stared at her. “Shadira…beloved.” Which he said in that aggravated accentuated V on the beloved. “You do realize that I can sense your thoughts.”

The Visit

Note: Contains some strong themes, including suicide. Please take care when reading.

Extra Unordinary Girl
By Erin Amelia Fletcher

Idea came from the song ordinary girl by Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus

Don’t get me wrong its not that I don’t love who I am
I am not ungrateful, just a little strange
I just go day by day, fixating on the roles I play
I’m not a con artist or a devil in disguise

I’m just an extra unordinary girl
I have wishes I have dreams
That far from realm exceed the extreme
To many they are as careless as they seem for an extra unordinary girl