The Demoness of the Hall

 

Compared to the absolute clusterfuck of chaotic energy at home, the car ride to the mall is entirely, and almost eerily, calm. Following mom’s impromptu piece of performance art, an inspired dance symbolizing the explosive exuberance of youth collapsing rapidly into the black hole of elderly malaise and arthritis, she officially calls out sick from work and designates today as a ‘girl’s day out.’ Hearing that makes me ecstatic, but brings with it a fresh layer of confusion and unease. I’m a girl now… and I don’t quite know what that means for me. Unfortunately, seventeen years of hardcore conditioning to the contrary don’t magically melt over the course of one miraculous metamorphosis.

“Honey… not to rain on your parade or anything… but you seem troubled?” Mom asks, eyes consistently flicking between me and the road in a way that should honestly get her license revoked. “I would have thought you’d be over the moon seeing as how you’ve been waiting for this for… well, your entire life, really.” She pauses, obviously mulling over how to word what she wants to say. “Are… are you unhappy with the change?”

 

*** Two Hours Ago

 

As I finally muster the courage to look up at my bedroom mirror, I’m shocked as shit to see… myself? 

Staring back from beyond the admittedly dirty glass surface is simply, and undeniably, me.

No, I’m not saying that nothing has changed. If that’d been the case, I would ragdoll to the floor as the world turns black and white while a huge “GAME OVER” sign superimposes itself onto reality. Yeah, that’d be so much worse. This is just… strange.

Good strange! Just so we’re clear. But… yeah, stranger than a doctor named Stephen.

This person staring back, I have never seen them before, but they’re still familiar. Years of imagining a more realized Willow than my meager artistic ability could produce, of spending hours in front of character creators in games, desperately trying to get my avatar just right, of forcing myself to confront the now replaced and obsolete version of me that lived in the mirror previously and imagining the changes I would make if life imitated art and I had a choice in the matter. All of these moments, the pain and the joy, the understanding without comprehension, the time lost on an impossible dream… here.

I’m Willow. From the huge, fuzzy feet with light brown fur, to the floppy ears gently cascading down alongside my smooth hair, to the little fuzzy poof-ball tail that I still don’t understand the purpose of but am kind of really glad to have… I am her.

“Huh.” I finally manage to say through my stunned silence. It isn’t a ‘huh’ of disappointment, it isn’t even a ‘huh’ of confusion. The world has changed and is now more correct than it had been before. It’s a ‘huh’ of a sudden clarified understanding of my new status quo.

Mom, obviously, doesn’t agree. “Huh? … That’s it? Just Huh!? What!?”

Yeah, you can see where this is going quickly, and as I spend the next ten or so minutes justifying my apparently disappointing reaction, I keep looking back at the mirror expecting an answer that can’t be found in my room on a Friday morning.

 

*** Present

 

“I’m happy with the changes, mom. I really am. I’ve only been like this for a short while and already can’t imagine going back to how I was before. I! Am! Happy!” Mom shoots me one of her patented ‘you expect me to believe that shit?’ looks and I roll my eyes. She thinks the rabbit doth protest too much. “Fine… maybe… maybe I just need a bit of time to adjust. That’s not bad, is it?”

With a warm smile I imagine few can match, mom stares into the distance ahead of us. “Of course that isn’t bad, Willow.” The familiar roads and landmarks of our town zoom past as the car’s engine seems louder than ever, filling the void of a conversation I’m not sure either of us is ready to have. “Most people in this world only have to worry about one great change in their life, physically speaking. You, my dear, are in the unenviable position of having to process two major changes all at once. Where others get to naturally grow into themselves and see the metamorphosis as a natural break point in maturing… you still have a bit of a journey to embark on.”

Trying to look anywhere besides at mom, I stare at the subtle drips of condensation forming around the air conditioning vents. “Yeah, but that fucking sucks. It’s not fair.” I can feel my teeth grinding behind my lips. “Seventeen years… seventeen years of heading in one direction, being led to believe it was the only way I could possibly live my life, and now what? I’m supposed to just start over from scratch? Hell, from less than scratch! I’m going to have to work my ass off just to get to zero!” My shoulders, and every other part of me, slump. “I… I didn’t hate who I was…”

“You don’t have to hate who you were… who you are! I’ve always thought you were a wonderful person and still do. Take it…” Mom pauses for a beat, “Take it from someone that’s been exactly where you are. It would be unhealthy for you to abandon everything you are just to distance yourself from the past. Take the parts of yourself that you love, that you’re proud to have nurtured all these years despite the pain, and keep them close.” Mom grabs my hand and squeezes my digits gently. “I know you’ll figure it out, and I can’t wait to see the woman you’ll grow up to be. And as long as you want the love and support of this old crone, you have it.” The car slowly crawls to a stop in a parking space in front of the local mall. Mom throws it into park and turns to face me properly. I finally do the same. “I am already so proud of you for coming this far, my beautiful daughter.”

The two of us sit in the car for a few more minutes. Not because I'm crying, obviously! What kind of chump gets all emotional just because their mom loves and supports them? Pshh, not this girl, obviously. Ha!

 

*** A few hours later

 

Carrying a generous payload of jeans, t-shirts, and other more intimate essentials, mom and I decide to call it a day. I can almost hear her credit card sigh with relief and wonder how dad will react to the second mortgage they’ll inevitably have to take out on the house to fund the second metamorphosis-inspired wardrobe replacement this month.

“Well, Willow, it’s nice to know that some things will never change… like your fashion sense.” mom half-jokes, looking at the admittedly very similar style I’ve chosen for my new appearance.

I shrug, finishing off the soft pretzel I’ve been nursing for a while now. “Hey, can’t mess with a classic look. Besides, comfort is everything!” I see my mom wince as she forces a smile, her hope that I’d inherit even a fragment of her fashionista gene dying like my father’s hope I’d be an athletic child died years ago. If nothing else, this change has let me disappoint both parents evenly, which is kind of beautiful from an equality standpoint.

Nearing the exit, we pass by a boutique with some stunning dresses in the window, and despite myself, I do a double take. “Honey!” Mom cries, catching me in the act. “We can always make one more stop! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

The thought of shopping for a single second longer is physically painful… but the gorgeous designs adorning the mannequins are mighty tempting. “Mom, it’s almost dinner time. We can always come back later, right?”

My mother’s face drops before a sly smile crosses her briefly. “Oh… Oh no!” She makes a dramatic show of collapsing onto one of the cushioned massage chairs nearby, playing up her plight like this is her deathbed. “Willow, I– I must have pulled something earlier. No! I can’t go any further right now–” Mom pauses her incredibly ham-acted monologue to take a quick sip of her slushie. “I must rest here for a few minutes. Go on without me, go forth and look in that goddamn shop! Please… this is my final request!”

Everyone’s parents are in some way embarrassing, but Shakespeare in the mall while a bunch of passerby stare has got to be some kind of record. If for no other reason than to escape this fresh new hell of parental humiliation, I drop my bags next to mom and rush into the store while she smiles and waves.

Entering the store is like stepping into a world I feel I have no business visiting. Everything is frilly, colorful, and fancy in a not too bougie, but miles beyond anything I’d be comfortable weaning kind of way. Within seconds, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake and decide to make as hasty a retreat as humanly… er, bunnily possible. “Hello, ma’am, can I help you find anything today?” A shiver runs down my spine as an all too familiar voice calls from right behind me. Before I even turn around, I know who’s waiting for me to respond. “Ma’am?”

Turning as quickly as possible, I simultaneously take a step back, away from the wolf-man I’d met earlier. “Arnie!?” The word tumbles out of my mouth frantically, just this guy’s presence triggering a fight or flight response in me. “What are you doing here?”

The wolf-man looks down at the lanyard around his neck with a nametag reading ‘Sales Associate’ in printed text. “I… I’m sorry for startling you! Umm… I’m so sorry, but do we know each other?” He… doesn’t recognize me? Oh, right, duh, I look quite a bit different than the last time he saw me. Wait… am I going to have to introduce myself to everyone I know again!?

“Yup… we know each other… though I guess you wouldn’t recognize me when you aren’t holding me upside down, right?” This felt right to say in the moment, his little stunt had been legitimately terrifying and hurt like hell. Although, I hadn’t even considered what would happen once the incredibly insensitive, sadistic, and needlessly cruel individual before me realizes I'm a woman now. As my words settle in, I see understanding dawn on his face.

...Shit.

 

---

We interrupt this chapter to bring you this purposefully ambiguous country's favorite new gameshow: How Will Arnie React!? We polled 100 audience members and put their responses on the board. Already, we have “Maniacal Laughter” in second place, “Thinly Veiled Threats” in third, and in fourth place, “Doing the Chicken Dance!” Yeah, the audience is weird sometimes. But the number one answer is still on the board, so, contestant Willow, How Will Arnie React!?

Ummm… I’m gonna have to go with… “Unceasing Ridicule!”

Show me “Unceasing Ridicule!”

BING

Correct! Unceasing ridicule! Congratulations Willow, you’ve won an all-expense paid trip to therapy in the future, boy are you gonna need it! Thanks for playing!

 

---

Arnie’s expression is nigh unreadable for a moment, not because he’s stone-faced and non-reactive… quite the opposite really. Within a few seconds, Arnie seems to flip through the entire catalog of human emotion too rapidly for my eyes to even keep up with. At the end of it all, the expression that settles into place is… a warm and gentle smile?

“That– That’s incredible! Wow! You look great… uhh”

Perplexed by the wolf-man’s positive attitude, I instinctively offer him a handshake. “Willow. My name is Willow.”

“Right, yeah, great name… great choice! That’s cool. I’m–” Arnie cuts himself off for some reason before chuckling a bit, eyes noticeably wide. “I’m Arnie, yeah, you knew that already… don’t know why I said that.”

This might honestly be the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve ever been a part of, and I’m a fucking awkward ass individual on the best of days. “Riiiiiight. So, I’m just gonna go now.”

The wolf-man looks surprised and gestures to the store around us. “Wait, no, I’m sorry, I interrupted your shopping trip. I… Do you actually need some help? I might not look it, but I do know a thing or two about clothes.”

“You… You do remember what happened last time I saw you, right? What you did?” I finally put everything out there, weirded out by this entire goddamn scenario. “And now you want to help me pick an outfit? Really? You might actually be the last person I’d want help from in this entire world. The way you treated me. The way you treated my friend! How can you even stand here and act like everything is okay!?”

Remembering how Arnie treated me, and especially Haley, I scowl at him and continue to give him a piece of my mind… until something changes. Arnie isn’t getting angry like I would have expected. Instead, he stands still, one arm crossed over his chest and gripping the other tightly while his eyes are glued to the floor. His ears and tail droop as he seems to wither and shrink in front of me.

“I am so, so sorry. Sincerely.” Arnie’s voice is barely a raspy whisper as he continues to talk. A far cry from the confident bellows and snarls I’d mentally associated him with. “When it comes to that woman, Haley, I don’t think clearly. I… I wanted to get one over on her so badly, I stopped caring about what that meant for anyone else. That isn’t an excuse, what I did was unquestionably wrong. I have my problems with her, and I shouldn’t have made them your problems as well.” After taking a steadying breath, Arnie looks up at me. “I don’t have the right to ask for your forgiveness, that’d only be for my benefit after all… but I promise I won’t do anything else to hurt you.”

Never in my life have I felt so wrong about how I’d seen a person versus who they really are. I'm still angry, justifiably so, I believe… but buried beneath that anger, and the desire to hurt someone who has hurt me, I find one of those parts of myself that I’ve been proud of for years. The first concrete fact of who I am and who I can still be as my new self.

“You know…” I say, noticing that Arnie is hanging on every word, waiting for the inevitable gut-punch. “I really am out of my depth here. Got anything in black?”

Arnie's face lights up as his tail wags slightly. "Wait, what? Really? I mean, yes, absolutely, we have a lot of really gorgeous dresses in black!" His excitement dies down as he leans a bit closer. "A-- Are you sure you don't mind... being around me?"

Trying my best to put on a sincere smile, I nod. "Yeah... I am." I lean in a bit closer myself. "But if you ever try any bullshit like that again I'm gonna test just how well rabbit feet work at kicking someone's ass!"

Arnie smiles, relaxing again as he gestures for me to follow him. "Sounds like a plan."

For the next twenty minutes or so, Arnie takes me on a detailed tour of all of his top picks for dresses in various styles until I finally settle on a simple flared sundress with a v-neck, paired with a matching shrug jacket. After flubbing the sizes a couple of times, I finally manage to slip into the ensemble before facing myself in the mirror.

Oh...

That's new...

I stand in the dressing room, in stunned silence for a few minutes, until I hear Arnie call for me. "Hey, Willow, everything okay in there?"

"Yeah," I reply, voice shaking just a bit. "Just... give me a minute."

Staring back, in the slightly graffitied mirror of the dressing room... is myself. Duh, of course, but... it's different this time. My eyes scan the delicate slopes and subtle imperfections of my new face, the vibrant reddish-brown color of my silky hair, and the way the dress I'm definitely buying gently hugs the curves I never thought I'd have.

This is... me? I'm pretty? I-- I think I'm pretty! That... that's alright, right?

My eyes start watering as I try to keep my choking and sobbing as quiet as possible. I give myself some time to bask in this moment, before settling down and slowly walking out of the dressing room where Arnie is waiting.

Taking one look at me, Arnie beams a huge smile. "Willow, you look absolutely gorgeous!"

I'm nearly trembling with joy... and a bit of apprehension. "I--I'm not gorgeous. I--"

"Nonsense!" Arnie groans, motioning for me to turn and face the mirror again. I comply and see myself again. "Tell me, what about you isn't absolutely beautiful?"

Well, that's entirely unfair. Looking at the mirror, I see a beautiful girl looking back at me, but... "I'm me. That just-- It doesn't make sense. I-- I know I'm a girl, but thinking that I could be beautiful, that other people could think that of me... it's somehow wrong, right?"

Looking over my shoulder in the reflection, Arnie shakes his head. "Everyone deserves to see themselves as beautiful, to truly love themselves, and to find satisfaction in who they are. Your mind guided you to your metamorphosis, you chose this for yourself because you know this is right for you, that you want this. You--" Arnie takes another unnatural pause as his lips tremble. "You chose perfectly. So, please, enjoy it."

After I've changed back into my clothes, Arnie rings me up, letting me use his generous employee discount as an olive branch of sorts. (One that someone as cheap as I wouldn't refuse.) As I'm about to leave, Arnie gently catches my wrist, looking at me with a calm seriousness. "One last thing, Willow... your friend, Haley, be careful with her."

I bite back my gut reaction to get defensive, knowing that these two have some unspoken history. "Arnie, I don't think you're in any position to tell me that."

Not backing down this time, he lowers his voice a bit further. "I know that you'll trust her more easily than me at this point. But ask your other friend, Libby, about what happened between the two of them. Maybe Haley's changed, but she doesn't have the best track record with people like u-- like you. I'm not trying to stir up shit here... Take it as the sincere advice of a concerned party. Just... watch yourself."

Yeah, wow, way to be totally ominous dude! Not wanting to squander what sounds like legitimate goodwill, I nod and leave the store. My mom is waiting right outside and squeals with delight when she sees what I bought, doing a small victory dance in the hallway that I'm sure could make her a social media sensation if she isn't careful. "So," she begins, finally standing still for two seconds. "Who's the guy you were talking with?" Mom wiggles her eyebrows like she's trying to cast an ancient spell and I nearly choke.

"I know it's a cliche to say this, but BELIEVE ME, he's just... a friend." I look back into the store and find Arnie, elbow on the counter and cheek in his palm, his tail gently swishing behind him as he stares, almost dreamily, at a silver gown on display near... him. "One that I should probably get to know a bit better."