MY STORY GOES ON II
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Facades: A Christmas Story
By D.A.W.
Author's note:
This story was originally posted on BCTS as part of the December 2012 One
Winter's Eve Story Contest. It would have made it over here sooner, but
posting it elsewhere would have made it ineligible for the contest.
This is my shortest story to date, but it's one that hits particularly
close to home as it covers a topic that I have personal experience with:
abuse. There are some pretty strong parallels to my own relationship with
my mother and until now I had not found the right story to broach the
subject. That being said, while abuse is central to the plot, I tried not
to dwell on it too much. This is different from the sort of story you guys
have seen from me up to this point. The narrator is transgendered in the
truest sense of the word and it's set in our own world with a little bit of
magic thrown in.
+ - + - + - +
Sometimes your past has a way of sneaking up on you. For some folks that
could be a good thing, but for me it nearly always meant trouble. Now I
know what you're thinking, and it's not as if I lived a violent life of
crime or anything like that. When you grow up in the sort of mess that I
did your past isn't exactly something you like to dwell on. My father died
when I was very young and my mother, discontent with her lot in life,
turned to alcohol in order to cope. She was a mean, bitter and manipulative
woman, and she made my life a living hell. I'd been lucky in one respect,
at least, a lot of people who grew up in abusive homes were beaten. My
mother only ever tried to hit me once, and by then I was both bigger and
stronger than her. When she hit me, I hit back, and she never so much as
laid a finger on me again.
My mother always had a handle over me. She knew just what buttons to push
to get me to do what she wanted and she manipulated me with the skill of a
master puppeteer and much to my shame I let her do it. My mother could read
me like a book, and had known whenever I was keeping something from her,
but there was one secret she'd never guessed at. Perhaps, she knew and just
wouldn't accept it or perhaps the mask I wore was so convincing that even
she couldn't see through my carefully laid facade.
You see, for as long as I could remember I'd been convinced I was meant to
be born a girl. My memories of my early childhood were foggy at best, so I
can only surmise that something scared me enough to bottle my feelings up
and keep them concealed. I sometimes thought that my mother may have had
played a hand in this, but I doubted I would ever know for sure, especially
now that she is dead.
I hadn't spoken to her for years, and I'd been perfectly content to leave
it that way so it had come as a pretty big surprise when I got the call
about her death. The call came from an old friend, one whom I hadn't heard
from in years, but one who had been on my mind nearly every day since I'd
left home almost ten years ago. Katie, my closest friend growing up, and
the only person I'd ever truly loved. I spent years trying to work up the
courage to ask her out, but I was far too afraid to put our friendship at
risk. It seemed fate was not without a cruel sense of irony, in our senior
year my hopes were dashed and I learned that devastating truth, Katie was a
lesbian. She was only attracted to girls, and despite my secret belief that
I was meant to be a girl, I knew we could never be together. Completely
heartbroken, I left town once we graduated and never returned.
It was just two days before Christmas when I got the call, and as always I
was spending the holidays alone. It wasn't that I didn't have any friends,
but there were just too many bad memories and I would just as soon drown
myself in alcohol and spend my Christmas in a drunken stupor. I'd only had
two beers and was about to start in on a third when I heard the phone ring.
I almost didn't answer it, but for some reason I had this nagging feeling
that it might be important.
"Jake?" a soft and melodic female voice asked from the receiver.
My heart skipped a beat and I felt ice cold chills shoot down my spine. It
had been almost ten years since I'd heard her speak, and despite the subtle
changes that time had made to her voice I still recognized the speaker as
Katie immediately.
Memories came to me unbidden and I fought to keep my emotions from getting
the better of me. "Katie?"
"God, it's good to hear your voice. I just wish it were under better
circumstances," Katie said from the other end. There was a distinct tone of
tension to her voice and I just knew that something was up.
"Katie? How did you get this number? What's wrong?" I asked her feeling a
lump form in my throat.
"It's actually Deputy Forenst now, I work for the Sheriff's office. Look
Jake, I wanted to be the one to tell you. Your mother, we found her dead
yesterday morning."
"Shit... How?"
"She took her own life. I'm sorry."
My hand, the one holding the receiver, started to shake and I felt all my
bitterness and anger rise to the surface only to mingle with guilt and
grief. My mother, my tormentor for so many years was gone. I wasn't sure
how I should feel and I was having trouble reconciling the sudden flood of
conflicting emotions.
"Jake?"
"Yeah, I'm still here... I just... I haven't heard from my mother in so long
and now to learn that she's dead. God, I don't know how to feel," I said,
hot tears stinging my cheeks.
"Jake, I... if you don't want to come home. After all that woman did to you--"
"No," I said cutting her suddenly short. "I think I need to see for
myself."
After a long conversation Katie offered to let me stay at her place and I
reluctantly agreed. I didn't want to impose on her, but I had nowhere else
to stay, as my hometown of Meridian was so small it didn't have a hotel and
I sure as hell wasn't staying in my mom's place. I was still reeling from
the news of my mother's death and I wasn't quite sure how to react. A part
of me wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, and the other wanted to jump up
in the air and shout out in glee. I know it sounds horrible, but my mother
had brought me nothing but grief, and in a weird sort of way her death came
as a relief.
I let out a long sigh, walked over to where I'd left my still unopened
third beer and picked it up. I stood there holding it in my hand, and
stared at it blankly for a moment. I shook my head, set the beer back down
then sank down to my knees and started to weep.
+ - + - + - +
"Dammit!" I cursed and turned my windshield wipers up to full speed.
It was Christmas Eve, and the drive to Meridian, my hometown, had been
pretty sedate to begin with, but just a few hours in it had started to
snow. It wasn't really all that bad at first, but the closer I got to
Meridian the more heavily it came down. I could only see a few yards in
front of me and it didn't show any signs of letting up. The mountain road
that led into Meridian was hazardous, even under the best of conditions,
and I was really beginning to regret my decision to come. I sighed, and
flipped my car stereo on. Adam Gontier's voice screamed out the lyrics to
'I Hate Everything About You', and I could feel the singer's emotions as
acutely as if they were my own.
The song had come out when I was still living with my mother, and had
quickly become one of my favorites. As of late my musical tastes had moved
away from the angrier and more angst ridden stuff I'd listened to in High
School, but for whatever reason that particular song had remained in my
playlists, and at the moment it was just the sort of song I wanted to hear.
I hated my mother, I hated that her death had affected me as it had. I had
never had any intention of returning to Meridian, but there I was, doing
just that. It was as if my mother had reached out to manipulate me one last
time from beyond the grave.
Still, it would be nice seeing Katie, despite how much it would hurt. I
still had pretty strong feelings for her, and I knew those feelings would
never be returned. It was strange that after so long that my emotions would
remain so strong. Maybe I was just clinging to the unattainable so that I
wouldn't get hurt by anyone else. It went to show just how pathetic I
really was. I was afraid to get married, and afraid to have kids for fear
that I would do what my mother had done to me and ruin my own children's
lives. It was better that I remain alone so that the cycle of abuse could
be broken, or at least that's what I told myself.
For the first time in years I found myself thinking about my gender
identity. Well that's not really accurate, I thought about it all the time,
but this was the first time in a long time that I had really put any deep
contemplation into it. Over the years I had carefully constructed an image
of myself for the outside world to see. I did everything I could to appear
as an ordinary guy, but that image was a lie. At one point I considering
seeing a gender therapist, but the thought of hormone therapy and SRS held
no appeal to me. I wanted to so desperately to be a woman, but I was tall
and was pretty well built like a tank. With my face and body I didn't think
I could ever make a passable woman, and I'd always feel like I was
pretending to be something that I wasn't.
The tune changed to Norns by HeavensDust and I was about to reach down to
change tracks when I caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of my eye.
I looked up to find a pair of headlights headed right at me. I swerved out
of the way in time to avoid getting hit, but I went flying off the road.
For a moment my car teetered over the edge of the mountain's cliff, but
then it suddenly jerked sideways and everything went black.
+ - + - + - +
My head felt like some deranged carpenter had been beating at it with a
mallet as vision slowly returned to me. I reached up to touch my forehead
and felt something warm and slick, when I pulled my hand away I found that
it was covered in blood. I took a deep breath and thought I might pass out
from the pain as stabbing sharp agony shot from the lower-left section of
my rib cage. I groaned, and turned my head to take stock of my situation.
My car's descent appeared to have been halted by a small copse of oak
trees, but I had no idea how far down the mountainside I'd fallen, as the
snowfall was so thick by then that I could only see a few feet in any
direction outside the car.
The front of my car had crumpled inward and I was pinned against the
steering wheel. All attempts to free myself were an exercise in futility
and only resulted in more pain. The good news was that I could move my
feet, so I wasn't paralyzed. My biggest concern was that I was bleeding
pretty badly, and if someone didn't find me soon I feared I might bleed to
death.
I gave up on trying to get free and focused on trying to keep warm. I was
wearing my coat, which provided a great deal of insulation, but it was damn
cold, and snow was drifting into the car from a crack in the rear window so
I knew that it wasn't going to be enough. I slipped my hand into the sleeve
of my coat and lifted it up to the bloody gash on my forehead. Short of
tearing off a sleeve I didn't have any means of cutting off the blood flow,
so my coat sleeve would have to do.
I found myself drifting off and I realized it would probably be bad for me
to fall unconscious again. I'd banged up my head pretty good, and I thought
I might just have a concussion. I fought against my drowsiness and did the
only thing I could think of to keep myself awake, I sang. Like my mother,
I'd been gifted with a pretty good singing voice, and one of the few good
memories I had of her was of the two of us singing together. Of course, the
first thing I could think of happened to be 'White Christmas', which seemed
an oddly fitting tune for my current predicament.
Singing was second nature to me, and it didn't take me long to turn to more
melancholy tunes like 'Everybody Hurts' by REM, but as I struggled to stay
awake the lyrics started to slip from my mind. I eventually just started to
scream out in misery. I don't remember all of it, but I do remember calling
out to whatever god, goddess or gods would listen to me, begging them to
end my pain. I didn't want to live anymore, I hated my life, I hated my
body and I didn't want to live with it any longer.
I could never bring myself to completely discount the possibility that
there was a God, but I'd never really put much stock in the idea of a wise,
merciful, omnipotent and omniscient god. If there really was a God, and He
really gave a fuck about any of us, why would He put us on this earth to
feel so much pain? If He really cared about His children why didn't He try
to alleviate our suffering? Then again maybe His power was limited and He
was just as helpless as the rest of us, or maybe He just didn't give a
damn.
I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned my head to stare into the
eyes of the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid my eyes on. She had long
blond hair, a dazzling set of green-eyes, and she stared down at me with a
calm reassuring smile. She tugged at my sleeve and I felt myself being
lifted gently from the car and placed back down on the ground.
"Jake," she whispered kneeling down next to me. "I'm sorry that I've never
done enough for you."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Someone who has watched over you for your entire life," she smiled.
"W-what do you want?"
"What I've always wanted, to protect you and help you to be happy," she
said, reaching down to cup my face as a single tear ran down her left
cheek.
"I can't undo the years of abuse and mistreatment you've suffered at your
mother's hand, but there's one thing I can do that should make your life a
little more bearable," she said with a thoughtful smile as her hand slid
away from my face.
"Hey, what--?" I protested as she pressed her hands into my chest.
"Shh, don't worry. It's all going to turn out alright," she said with a
very slight smile just before a blinding white light filled my vision.
"Your bitterness is understandable, but know this. God is real and he does
care," I heard her whisper as darkness closed in and I felt myself slip
back into unconsciousness.
+ - + - + - +
I woke to find a brilliant bright beam shinning in my eyes and for a very
brief moment I thought that my mysterious rescuer was still there, but
realized that the light was coming from an ordinary flashlight. I groaned
and shielded my eyes against the beam's golden luminescence.
I briefly took stock of my situation remembering the accident and
everything that happened after. And there was my body... it felt strange.
Something was different, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was.
"Jenn?" A familiar voice asked, and the light faded away to reveal the face
of the newcomer.
'Jenn? Who is Jenn?' "Katie? God, is that you?" I said with a loud gasp,
and couldn't believe my ears at the sound of the voice coming from my
mouth.
'God, I sound like a woman!' Maybe the reason my body had felt different
was because it actually was different. I hurriedly reach up and grabbed at
my chest and let out a loud squeal at the pair of fleshy globes I found
there. They were breasts, but how?! The woman that had freed me from my
car... it was her doing, I just knew it!
"Jennifer," Katie knelt down to touch my shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"You've been in an accident, but you're going to be alright. An ambulance
is on the way."
I swallowed hard and nodded. Had I hit my head harder than I thought? God I
really hoped not! Whatever had caused my sudden transformation had
fulfilled the deepest desire of my heart and I was pretty sure I had the
woman to thank. Who was she and why had she done this? For a moment I
thought she might be a goddess, but then I remembered what she had said
about God being real. Then it came to me, and the answer seemed so stupid I
almost laughed. She was my guardian angel. I'd always discarded guardian
angels and their like as nothing more than silly fairy tales and wishful
thinking. Clearly, I was going to have to rethink a few things.
"Katie, what time is it?" I whispered reaching up to touch my old friend's
face.
"It's just past one in the morning," she replied with a slow intake of
breath.
She was so beautiful and I felt a slow smile creep onto my face as I
realized what being woman meant. Not only did I have the body I always
wanted, but I had a chance to be with Katie. I said a silent prayer in my
heart of thanks to whatever God had sent the woman--no my guardian angel--
to me. My past may not have been all sunshine and daisies, but I could see
a glimmer of what my new future might entail and it looked to be very
bright indeed.
"Katie come closer," I whispered.
Katie furrowed her brows, and leaned in as I had suggested. I reached up
and grabbed the collar of her shirt, then tightened my grip and pulled her
closer still.
"Merry Christmas, Katie," I whispered just before locking my lips around
hers in a kiss.
As she broke away she stared done at me with wide eyes and the beginnings
of a smile as she whispered the words, "Merry Christmas" just before I
pulled her in for another kiss.
+ - + - + - +
I stared down at my mother's face and grimaced. She had once been a very
attractive woman, but no longer. Years of alcohol abuse and a laundry list
of poor health choices had taken their toll. I actually looked quite a bit
like her in my new form, and every time I looked in the mirror I saw a
younger, more attractive version of her face looking back at me. She looked
calm, almost peaceful laying there in the casket almost as if she were
asleep. I turned my back and leaning heavily on my cane I limped back
toward the door where Katie was waiting. The viewing was just getting
started and the funeral services would be held later on in the day.
The crash had left me in pretty bad shape, but it could have been much
worse. I had a few broken bones here, a sprain or two there, the big ass
gash across my forehead and of course my body was covered in bruises. I
wasn't what you would call thrilled about my injuries, but I think I could
live with them especially considering the other ways in which my body had
changed.
As near as I could tell I was a fully functioning woman, and I had my
beautiful guardian angel to thank for that. Reality itself appeared to have
changed along with me. Everyone in town knew me as Jennifer, or Jenn as
Katie preferred to call me. They had no memory of a Jake Melton. To them
I'd always been Jennifer. For the most part everything was pretty much the
same, but there were subtle differences. Apparently, in this new reality
Katie and I had dated in High School, but we broke up before I left town
for college.
I didn't dare tell anyone what had happened for fear of getting locked up
in a mental institution, so I was forced to be a bit roundabout in my
inquiries. The doctors said I may experience a bit of memory loss due to my
head injury, so I had the perfect excuse to ask questions. The odd thing
was that my memory seemed fine. Maybe it was the work of my guardian angel.
It was odd, people I'd known my entire life treated me as if I were a
completely different person, and to their knowledge nothing had changed at
all, though I think it had more to do with my physical gender than anything
else. Still, I worried that my life as Jake had been wiped from existence.
Or had it? Was my life really all that different? Jake and Jennifer were
really the same person, the only real difference was that they had been
born into bodies of different genders. Which begged the question: Does our
physical gender really dictate what sort of person we are? I had so many
questions, but I thought that perhaps I could find those answers through
prayer.
I did tell one person about my change, and I'm sure you can guess who. At
first when I told Katie, I made it sound as if it had all been a dream.
Then a weird thing happened. She remembered me or more accurately my male
self. She was a strong believer in God and she was quick to proclaim my
transformation His work and a miracle to boot. Not that I was going to
disagree, mind you. How the hell else was I supposed to explain what had
happened?
My mother had made my existence miserable, but I wasn't going to let her
influence the course of my life any longer. I had a chance at happiness and
I was going to take it. As I drew close Katie reached out and grabbed my
hand to provide support. I leaned against her and she wrapped her arm
around my back as she led me out of the funeral home and into the light of
the day.
I smiled and closed my eyes leaning my head against her shoulder. I thought
I was going to really like my new life.
The End
Comments, no matter how short, are very much appreciated. If you liked this
story please take a minute to leave a review. Criticism is welcome, but
only when presented in a constructive and positive manner.
Shout outs go to the following people: Beyogi who served as a beta reader
and Maggie Finson who served as a beta reader, but also came up with the
title for the story, and Holly H Hart for her superb editing prowess.
As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance
to real life individuals events or locations is purely unintentional. Only
Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to post
this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.
Dottie
- 11.03.2022
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