Chapter 10: Fictional Trauma

Eventually, its near the end of this... long... long feeling school day. As he walks to his next class. He sees two boys in one of the less crouded halls. As he passes. Talking about him, one giggles "Do it!" To the other. The other, in military print pants. Pulls out a dog whistle. Then... as he looks at them in utter shock. Blows it. A sound shakes in his ears. Higher-pitch then most sounds he ever hears, and very loud. It hurts... not just... his ears. As he grasps them in pain... but... emotions go crazy. As... trama floods back. He falls to the ground, tears, as he cries in pain. As a panic attack begins. The memories... the weakness... she remembers... it... them. With the only thing in his hand being a pencel... she throws it at... the whistle. A scream, loud... but not to him... as his ears ring. As he pants on the floor. He looks, and sees the hunting obsesed kid's... hand is impalled like a pencel, that was thrown like a knife. He gets up, quitely, and walks away. Power walks. While inside... a storm is bairly contained. As fuzz of fur, begins to grow on his face, thru magic. As he opens the door to that private wheelchair bathroom, and he locks himself inside. He is quite.

He leans forward toward the mirror above the sink and sees the faint fuzz growing across his cheeks. White. Pale. Foxlike. It glows slightly with residual mana discharge, flickering with a shimmer that barely registers in the fluorescent light. He forces himself to breathe. Slow. Inhale. Exhale. Ignore... the sounds... ignore the panic... ignore... it. He shakes... as a magic triggers on its own. His species... has two forms. One is there true form, the other... is there soul form. Then there is... this form. There default form. He... feels the true form... triggering... slowly. He pants... trying... but... the memories flash in his head. Pain, fear, panic. He cries, shakes wimpers, as his ears flatten, tail within his pants, half... stiff from blood loss. Stiffens further. He shakes, he falls to the ground. He can't breath, his heart races. He starts hyperventilating. As... he transforms... in a magical glow, and flash of light... into his true form. Luckly... not his soul form.

As a small... adolesent, female fox, is buried under... clothes, shaking, ears down... in utter fear. His body shifted. It hurt for a flash. Memories... Memories... from Alice run thru him. The backstory, just... three... paragraphs. he never... went into detail. 'Alice was a slave to a noble'. 'Alice was... enjoyed by the noble.', 'Alice, from a young age, was abused by him, kept as a pretty face... and body. Until she grew angry... grew tired... and... killed him. Ran away. Deciding if she was forced to be pretty... she would be, and no one would touch her.'. He shakes... as the feelings... are too strong. His tail wraps around him closely, within the dark cave of his own clothes. He shakes... utterly. He can't speak... wimpers... animalistic ones... are all that comes out. As... he remembers... something... horrifying... the feeling... that wissles... they used... to call him. That man... who grabed... him... he was so big... 'I... was raped...' he realizes.

His tail tightens around his small form, muscle memory turned into defense mechanism. It hugs him tighter than any arm ever has. His ears pin so tightly that the nerves begin to ache. His breath shakes, shallow and erratic. He wimpers, as he kneds into the clothes under him. He... he remembers what it felt like... it... keeps replaying... she... can't stop it. He... breaths hard thru the long muzzle on his face. This form... it only comes out in immense emotional distress... or... as a cultrual gester of utter, total trust. Because its weak. When this species gives birth, it gives birth in this form. 'why... why must i be a girl...' He cries. He hates it... hates it all. He knows he is having a panic attack. He knows... this is fake, this trama was stuff he wrote in a page. Shame fills him, as his ears go as low as they can. He does not feel like Arther. Arther... does not remember... that weakness... lonelyness... fear... disgrace... Alice does... worse. He begins to remember... the sensations. He shakes deeper. A guy... should not know what that... a thing... like that... feels... like. The panic... spikes, flows... circles... for... a while.

Eventually... when his tears dry. When he shakes... but has not a single thought left to say. Quite. He glows... 'i-i... want to be human...' Then, he shifts into human form. Fox ears. Tail. Female. Naked. As the clothes... uh... are covering him weirdly. Arms in his shirk. Pants not even on him. He gets up... slowly, shaking with anxiety. As he redresses. Tail is loose. Not hidden... for now. As his pants... are fallen down. He shakes... he no longer feels male. Not just... attraction... but... everything. Male... feels like a dream. He pressed his hand to his stomach, trying to quiet the shuddering inside. Moving it down... remembering that violation. He was not even in heat... when it happened. He had no atraction... just... pain, fear... being... a thing. A possesion. He shuttered. As he cried.

He says, sobbing "Why... why... i... i want to be male... *wimper* please... i want to be human... *wimper* i... i don't want to be stuck... *wimper* with this... my story..." He remembered... what Alice truely was to him. Alice... Alice was ment to be a story. A exploration of things he could never be. Confident, powerful, female. Her joney was ment to be about love! Recovery! Finding someone who could break thru her mask... who could see that form, love it, and she would love them. That... that... was it! Becuase... before this... he was just a nerd who loved to create stories. Who wanted to understand things no one knew... who wanted someone to love him, and be with him, and to be able to cry. Now... he was all of those things... but lost... lost... the other side... that little nerd. He just wants to be held. Not desired. Not touched. Just held. The way no one ever held Alice. The way no one ever held Arther. The way both of them hoped... someone might.

He stiffles his crying. As he looks at that face... that... pretty face that cursed him. Both... as Arther... and as Alice. He hates... how pepole look at him... her... him... "Her..." he says outloud. His hand moves down... feels whats left down there. Then moves, and feels his bust. He remembers that spark he felt, when he first... was messing with his nipple. How... his manhood will be gone within days. He cries. 'I am stuck... being a woman...' she cries. "I hate... being a woman." She says... realizing... she is not Arther... or Alice.