The Demoness of the Hall

Arnie’s POV ~2 Years Ago

 

 “Are You Happy?

 

It’s an easy question, yes or no?

Take your time, don’t rush, think it through

 

Is anybody happy?

 

They all smile, yes. A dozen smiles for a million occasions

Well practiced

Measured.

 

An emotion wrung out to a gesture.

Communication.

 

Are you happy?

 

Yes. or. No.

Answer the question.

 

I don’t care if you’re content with your job.

So what if your partner is perfect?

Your health is not on trial here.

 

Are… you… happy?

 

How do you feel in the moments

Between fleeting distractions

Outside of hollow gestures

With no regard for what others think or say?

 

Who are you when you’re alone?

 

Do you cry in your room when nobody’s there to see it?

Are you weak when people don’t need your strength?

What are you

With nothing

And nobody

Besides

you?

 

Are you happy?

Does it matter?

I don’t know.”

 

“Fabulous.” Mr. Watts dryly declares, not hiding the fact that he’s staring at the clock and not the hard copy of the poem I’d just recited for his class. “Great job… um… Arty. Great job, Arty. Next!”

 

It’s Arnie… yeah, not like it matters enough to make a fuss over it. I know I don’t have a cool or memorable name anyway. I’d probably forget it myself if I hadn’t been stuck with it my whole life.

 

Shaking off getting upstaged by a timepiece, I quickly retreat back to my seat. It doesn’t matter if the teacher doesn't give a damn about my piece. I hadn’t written it to impress him.

 

“That was really good!” Clare declares as I take my place at the desk next to hers. “Your delivery has gotten a ton better too! You should consider joining the speech team!” The short girl I’ve known since second-grade bounces in her seat while trying to recruit me into her deceptively competitive club… again. “Oh, and I love the new nail color, it’s chic.”

 

On reflex, I glance down at my violet nails before beaming back at Clare. “Thank you. I’ve had this one laying around forever but never got around to trying it.” Once more, I masterfully skirt the issue of joining her for voluntary public speaking because, really, who the hell wants to do that!? Seriously, she could be in literally any other club and I would be there in a heartbeat, but speech? Yeah, I already caught enough hell for being a nerd, thank you very much.

 

The two of us sit in the back of the room, as far away from the rest of the class as possible. High school is hell. An unexpected and grand revelation that nobody else has ever come to, I’m sure. Yet, just like Pandora’s Box, underneath all of the worst terrors that plague mankind… there is hope. She is hope. Her short auburn hair and floppy pink ears bounce as she sways in her seat, trying not to chuckle at the JV Track Star that had just tried rhyming destiny with breastiny. “The innovation to create a new word is simply Shakespearean, don’t you think?” she asks, a familiar mischievous grin playing at her lips.

 

Yes, making fun of people’s poetry isn’t exactly kind, but it’s a relatively harmless way to pass the time. Besides, with the adorable way she snorts at her own jokes, I wouldn’t want to stop her from making snide remarks even if I could. “Didn’t he say this was going to be a haiku? Pretty sure that ship sailed a couple hundred syllables ago.” The guy up front turns to the second page… of his “haiku,” and Clare and I start quietly cackling in our corner.

 

“My ears are bleeding
My mind slowly rots away
Sweet death take me now.”

 

“Even the reaper

Wouldn’t want to hear this crap

Death has standards too.”

 

These are the moments I live for, as trite and simple as they may be. My best friend and I, sitting back and acting like the two old man muppets on the balcony, roasting whatever we find funny today.  You’d think, during these sublime moments that everything would be perfect…

 

But it’s not.

 

Watching my friend’s face turn bright red as she struggles to breathe because Mr. Breastiny has started rapping… during his “haiku,” all I can think is that this joy I’m getting to feel might have a fast-approaching expiration date. After all, I’ve been lying to her as long as I’ve known her. I’ve been lying to everyone. 

 

Even myself… Especially myself, I guess. Not purposefully, mind you. I’m not some secret agent sent to infiltrate a school to prevent a war or the child of a Greek god hiding away mystical powers the likes of which the world has ever seen. I’m just, not who I was told I was my entire life. I’ve never acted disingenuously, and I’ve always tried to be myself. Hell, I’m sure there were countless signs that passed right by me as I dawdled my way through figuring out why I’ve never been truly content. It’s just difficult to internalize such a great and all-encompassing error that even you’ve been blind to for literally years.

 

Alright, no more suspense. I’m not the guy they know me as, I’m… Damnit, why’s it hard to even think this!? I’m trans! There! Fuck, it shouldn’t be that hard to even narrate this!

 

So I’ve figured myself out. Wonderful, fabulous, simply terrific… now what? All my incredible self-discovery seems to have brought is an extra layer of pain every time someone interacts with me the same way they always have. My name, which has never been anything but a slight nuisance, is a scathing sleight. Being called mister, or dude, or guy, was always something I could detach from mentally, but is now a terrible insult. Best of all, nobody knows about this fresh layer of inner turmoil, even the person I’ve wanted to tell above all else.

 

That’s all going to change today.

 

… I think I’m going to be sick.

 

As the lunch bell rings and our homeroom class races out at the prospect of freedom, I hang back with Clare as she slowly packs up her things. “Hey, do you mind if we talk here for a minute? There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

With a carefree grin, Clare hops up and sits on her desk, legs swinging idly in the air. “What’s up, buttercup?”

 

There’s a sensation that I like to anecdotally refer to as the high dive effect. The first time you see people diving into the deep end of the pool as a kid, you think “Hell yeah, I wanna do that!” So you climb the ladder with an obnoxious amount of unearned confidence, and walk across the springy plank with nothing but vigor and determination. Then you look over the edge, and suddenly that “Hell yeah!” turns into a resounding “Fuck this!” Standing here, in this abandoned classroom, Clare’s blue eyes ripple with the reflection of a pool way too far down for comfort. All of the nerve I’ve built up drains out of me in an instant as I begin to tremble and fall apart. My distress isn’t lost on Clare, who rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Arnie?”

 

That! That’s what’s wrong! That name, and everything that comes with it! “Actually… can you call me –” Once again, the cold hand of self-doubt winds its way around my windpipe and crushes it like a vice. “L–Lu--” I’ve spent so long choosing a name, a name I love, a name I desperately want to claim out loud rather than having it relegated to idle fantasies.

 

At some point, Clare had hopped off her desk and stepped closer to me. When this happened, I have no idea. What I do know is that she’s cupping my cheek in her hand, and showing me a  tender smile. “It’s okay, hun, what’s your name?”

 

She knew. That question, that expression, none of it makes sense if she doesn’t already know. My salvation from being stranded on the diving board, someone sneaking up and shoving me along. “Luna… my name is Luna.” A fresh trickle of tears escapes me alongside those words. My best friend shoots up and wraps me in a tight hug that I happily return, as I messily sob into her shoulder. An incomprehensible wave of relief washes over me at the same time as an overwhelming exhaustion. The perfect moment, one crisp and refreshing bite from the apple after years of starving in the garden.

 

“Oh my, I feel like I’ve just heard something interesting.” Almost too appropriately given the Eden reference, a demon and a snake enter to fuck everything up. “Luna? Did you say your name is Luna? How precious.” Haley and Libby, two figures any student in the school would easily recognize. I’ve always counted my lucky stars that I never made it onto this duo’s radar. Hell, I don’t know why they were here now, to be honest. Usually, they liked messing with other sharks in the ocean, not the minnows just trying to get by.

 

While the demon sneers and creeps ever closer to me, the snake woman grasps at her partner’s shoulder. “What are you doing, Haley? Let’s go.”

 

Haley shrugs off her friend and keeps up her steady approach. Her bemused smile slowly twisting into an obscene projection of visceral hatred. “You think that you can just will yourself to be something you’re not? That you can pick who or what you are? The world doesn’t work that way, shithead! You are who you are, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it!” Her words plunge deep as daggers while she continues to close the distance between us. 

 

“Leave her alone!” yells Clare, trying to sound tough despite her cracking voice. The demon’s eyes remained focused on me, and her cruel expression only grows more pronounced. Haley draws closer to me still, before Clare puts herself between us. “Please, stop this!”

 

The mask of sadistic glee on Haley’s face drops for a moment as she swats Clare out of her way. “This doesn’t concern you, piglet, go roll around in some mud or something.” My friend is knocked off balance but catches herself on a desk as Haley backs me into one of the large windows behind me. The glass is cold and I can feel the slight thumps of rain hitting the pane. “Now, why would you go and lie to piglet? She seems like she really cares about you.”

“Her name is Clare, stop calling her piglet!” I yell, my anger finally overriding the fear of having my ass kicked. “And I’m not lying! I can be whoever the hell I want to be!”

 

Something in my words stuns the demon for a moment, a brief pause that Libby takes advantage of to get close to Haley again. The snake-woman wraps her arms around one of Haley’s and tries to gently pull her away. “Let’s go already! You don’t have to do this. Just drop it.”

 

The red woman violently shakes off her friend as a growl escapes from low in her throat. “Weak… You’re so fucking weak!” Haley’s eyes catch fire as she begins grinding her teeth. “You’re too weak to accept who you are, so you lie to yourself. Console yourself with fiction and falsehoods because you can’t stand who you are – WHAT you are! You make me fucking sick! There is no escape from yourself. Just accept the hand you were dealt and stop making your weakness everyone else’s problem!”

 

Beneath the burning fire of her eyes, two small streams trickle down Haley’s face as her breath runs ragged. “Are… are you okay?” I ask, realizing that worrying about this woman should be the least of my concern.

 

The demoness wipes away her tears, seemingly confused as to how they got there in the first place. “I– “ Clare, Libby, and I all stare at Haley, who looks at each of us in turn. She almost seems confused or lost. “No.” Haley’s shoulders tremble as she reclaims the fury she’d let go of for a second and focuses this newly fed fire on me. “Don’t you fucking pity me!” Haley’s arm reels back and I close my eyes, bracing for the inevitable impact… that never comes.

 

To my left, I hear a series of crashes as something barrels through the meticulously organized desks in the room. Feeling confident that the danger has passed, I open my eyes and see a large black tail in front of me. My eyes dart to the right and find a panicking and wide-eyed Libby, holding her hands in front of her mouth and muttering something frantically. Following her eyeline, I check out what made the noise earlier, and see Clare lying on the ground… not moving. 

 

“Clare!” I scream, feet already scrambling to take me to her. Before I even make it three feet, my arm is caught in the vice grip of a red hand.

 

Haley pulls me in close and whispers in my ear. “This is your fault. You’re weak, and she had to protect you. If you’d just been normal, just accepted who you are, just known better than to lie to us… none of this would have happened.”

 

Libby’s tail wraps around the demon’s waist to start forcefully pulling her away and the demon tosses me to the floor. My head hurts, and everything is out of focus. My feet turn to jelly when I try to stand up and run to Clare, leading to me landing face-first on the linoleum floor while everything fades out around me.

 

***

 

When everything comes back into focus, I’m sitting at my desk. The room is empty, but none of the tables and chairs that had just been knocked around seem an inch out of place. “Clare!” I yell, standing up fast enough that my chair flops over behind me.

 

“I’m afraid she’s not here, love.” I turn to the left and find a woman sitting in Clare’s seat. She’s leaning back in the chair, with both of her feet kicked up onto the desk while whistling something entirely too cheerful for the moment. “Sorry this had to happen now. I understand that as far as timing goes, this really couldn’t have been worse.”

 

“What timing? Is Clare okay?”

 

The woman’s carefree attitude dissipates as she sighs. “I don’t know, because you don’t know. Get it?” I shake my head and the woman rolls her eyes. “I’m you – kind of. I’m part of you; actually, that’s not right either. I’m a potential part of you that you’ve recently accepted and now I can become an actual big part of you and — alright, I’ve overcomplicated this. You’re going through metamorphosis right now. I’m what you had to accept about yourself to make it happen, and now we get to be much happier! So… yay!? Yeah, like I said, the timing is terrible, but this is a good thing.”

 

Looking at her, the woman does look kind of similar to me. She has long black hair and honestly could be my sister. She also has wolf ears, a tail, and claws… which are really cool, honestly. “So I’m supposed to become you?”

 

“Yup, congrats, you just hit the hottie lottery. Now, shake my hand so we can expedite this and go see Clare. Usually I’d take my time talking with you, but I understand that time is of the essence, so we’ll skip the whole ‘Welcome to the rest of your life’ pep talk, cool?” The wolf woman holds out her hand and smiles at me. “Nice to meet ya, we’re Luna, though I guess you already knew that.”

 

That name. Her face. Her confidence. She’s exactly how I’ve always wanted to be… so why can’t I bring my hand up to hers? “This isn’t right.”

 

“Beg our pardon?” she asks, finally taking her feet off the desk and planting them on the floor. “That’s not how this is supposed to work. You are metamorphosizing now. There’s no stopping this train.”

 

“You’re… you’re not who I am. This is wrong. I – I’m not weak. I refuse to be weak again.”

 

Luna reels and stands up, towering over me in height. “The fu– weak!? No no no no no. Weak is letting some bitch get in your head. You know this isn’t wrong. This is everything you’ve ever wanted! You can finally be yourself! Now shake my damn hand!”

 

The wolf woman steps in closer and I back away. “How do I get out of this… out of here?”

 

“You don’t! We finish this, then you can see Clare! That’s how this works. Now please, just shake my hand.” Luna’s arm reaches out once again and I continue my retreat. “Don’t do this. For both our sakes, Luna–”

“That’s not my name! If I’d never said that stupid fucking name, Clare wouldn’t have gotten hurt. It’s all my fault.” The confrontation that just took place in this classroom plays in my head on repeat as the demon’s words burrow deeper and deeper into my head. “My name is Arnie.” As those words escape my mouth, the classroom door swings open. There’s no hallway beyond the threshold, just an inky blackness and deafening silence.

 

A way out. “NO!” Luna roars as she starts charging right for me. I take off running for the door and manage to grab the frame before my other arm is seized. “This is for our own good!” she yells, grabbing my hand with her own and shaking.

 

Nothing happens.

 

The relief on Luna’s face slowly melts into terror as she keeps shaking my hand. Finally she looks back up at me, ears lowered and tail between her legs. “No – you haven’t.” Her hands release mine as she sinks to the floor. “Please… don’t leave me here. We’re only going to regret this. Trust me.”

 

My chest aches, and my eyes sting. I know she’s right… but it doesn’t matter. I step through the door, hearing the cries of my own greatest wish cursing my once and only name.

 

*** Arnie’s POV ~ One Week Ago

 

Walking through the hallway, I stretch out my bruised shoulders. That fucking bear had to come out of nowhere and take a cheap shot. I’ll kick his ass for this next time. I’ll kick that punk W’s ass too for goading me on and helping that bitch get away. I finally had her… and her fucking friends had to ruin everything. How the hell does someone like her even have friends anyway!? Ugh, like it matters.

 

Rounding a corner, a short girl runs right into me and bounces off. “Oh my god, I’m sor– Luna! Long time no see! Holy crap, what happened to you, did you get in a fight with a semi-truck? Are you okay?”

 

I’ve spent so long avoiding Clare, I’d forgotten her thousand miles a minute speaking speed and the way she bounces from one thought to the next. I miss her.

 

“I told you to stop calling me that already. It’s Arnie, always has been, always will be. And I’m fine. You should see the other guy.” He’s completely unharmed… but he’s freaking huge! 

 

The moment I correct her, Clare looks crestfallen. “I know you’ve said that before… but, that day, when you asked me to call you – the other name – You seemed so happy. I just – I’m sorry. I know it’s completely up to you, I just thought that you might still–”

 

“When I told you that, it was a moment of weakness. I’m not weak anymore. Simple as that.”

 

My friend shifts back and forth on her feet, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think you were weak. I thought you were brave, and cool. But I get it, things change. You’re not weak anymore.” Clare stops bouncing on her heels, takes a deep breath and looks up at me. “But are you happy?”

 

Almost on reflex, as if I’d practiced it years ago, I respond. “Does it matter?”

 

Within a millisecond of my words, Clare’s arms are wrapped around me as she squeezes me as tightly as she can. “Yes. It does.”