I wake up in a tangle of limbs: Human, Felyne and Fae. I have no clue at what time of night Violet decided to get off the couch and climb into bed with me. Maybe she did it for warmth. Maybe I’m comfortable to cuddle. Whatever might be the answer, I wake up as if we all passed out playing Twister, and it takes me a while to free myself. During that effort I manage to wake up both of my bedfellows. “Fuck, Kat, that was the best sleep I’ve had in years and we didn’t even do that beforehand.” Violet stretches and I hear numerous bones crack and pop.
“I have a feeling that has something to do with it, you sex pest.” When I begin getting dressed, Violet tuts in response.
“Pest implies that I’m unwanted and hurt the crops. If anything I’m a sex pollinator.”
“Big words for the jock lesbian. Busy as a Bee Busting into Bussies… Benevolently?” My alliteration earns me a sarcastic clap.
“Nice attempt at a dig, definitely original, keep trying.” She gets her ass out of bed as well, the only one who stays in is Top, who enjoys the space to stretch out on.
She meows. “Good morning to you too, did you sleep well?” Mrrow. “Hey, don’t blame me, you could have stayed in your cat bed.” Meow. “Aww, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks.” I pet her for her dedication to protect me.
“If I don’t get your ass out soon you’ll get eaten by moths in the closet, we are hanging the fuck out and you’re making friends.” Violet gestures out the door. I know of the places she might take me. I have read of them. I have looked them up. If only so I could make sure to avoid them, to lower any suspicion towards me. Queerness was still blatantly part of me, I could never wash off its stench, but I could have plausible deniability by staying away. How dare you stereotype people, I could retort and keep walking.
Not that I don’t long to go. To exist in spaces whose atmosphere is saturated with queerness. But it would be like obligatory birthday invites. I wouldn’t know anyone there. I wouldn’t know how to approach people and talk to them. That much was blatantly obvious from the past week. From the three people I’ve talked to, all of them approached me first, stuck their noses into my life, my space, needed me for something. I was content to just drift through life with no anchors, at least up until now. “Sure.”
The ground outside is littered in puddles, the air cool and fresh. It must have rained until four in the morning, guessing by the smell. The air always smells best after rain. I am zoned out for most of the walk with Violet. That is, until I come across an unexpected sight.
I hurriedly grab Violet’s sleeve, stopping her in her tracks. “Violet, am I hallucinating from guilt or are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Just snap a fucking photo, phones can’t trip like people do.” She rolls her eyes, but I point and the trajectory of her gaze follows my hand. “Is that?” I nod to answer.
Liz.
Liz is sitting on a bench under one of the few trees that have still held onto their leaves. “Did she fake her suicide for attention or something?”
I almost blurt out that it wasn’t a suicide without thinking. How can I even prove such a thing? “No, I found her in the ice bath, tried to resuscitate her, called the EMTs for her. I was there when they declared her dead, Moss was holding me.” My heartbeat spikes, my hands shake, my knees get weak. I barely manage to steady myself against a nearby wall. She’s dead, I know she’s dead, I wish she wasn’t but she is so how is she sitting there, crying her eyes out… She’s crying. On the verge of outright bawling. The way her chest shakes I can tell she’s holding most of her pain in. “I’m going to talk to her.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the scammer with a psychic schtick?” Violet hisses out. I shrug.
“I don’t know why she’s there, but I want to repent. I want to make up for what I did. She’s in distress right now, the best way for me to start is to offer her help.” It won’t be enough, though. Nothing I can do will ever be enough. What I did is unforgivable. I dread having to tell her. I won’t be able to avoid it forever. But just for a moment, I can pretend I did nothing, that I’m trying to reach out purely out of the goodness of my heart, and not because I feel guilty.
Violet accompanies me over to the curb Liz is sitting on. She doesn’t pay attention as I sit down next to her. Why does speaking up have to be so hard? Why does starting conversations have to be one of the most impossible things there is? “Liz?” I start, startling her. Her eyes are puffy from crying, and although really difficult to notice if you don’t look really closely, there’s an extremely fine mist rising from her skin. Almost as if she was covered in a thin layer of dry ice. A reminder of her passing. I don’t think she can see it.
“O-oh, hi, it’s…” it’s obvious how desperately she’s trying to recall. I’m glad that my one brief interaction with her didn’t leave enough of an impact. “It’s Kouzelna, right? From the party?”
Mission failed, she recalls me. “Yeah, that’s right. Why the tears?”
She snorts, wiping them away. “Oh, it’s nothing, it’s dumb.”
“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be crying.” Anything that has a strong emotional impact on you is important in its own way. Violet clears her throat.
“Hey. I just remembered I’ve got something to do, so I’ll leave you two to it. See you around, kitten.” She waves and walks off, leaving me and Liz alone.
Liz just shakes her head. “It’s still so dumb.”
“The only dumb problems I know of are those that rich people face. You can tell me, Liz, I won’t judge.” And I won’t. I can’t ask her to trust me, though, not after possessing her.
“I, I did everything the sorority asked of me, got through every hazing ritual, and now I show up at their door and they scream in terror and slam it in my face!” Not to defend house half-sole but I’d freak out too if a corpse showed up at my door. “And then I hear them shouting about how not even being put in the grave has me leave them alone? I endured so many things, and for what? I still don’t belong anywhere!” She’s shaking after her last outburst, and I cannot tell if it's because of the nature of her death or the strong emotions she’s feeling.
At that moment, I decide to try and follow the teachings of my senpai in comforting people. I scoot a bit closer to her and open my arms, offering a hug. She falls into them, sobbing, and I rub her back. What’s the script? What are the right words to use here? How do I show I care about her well being?
I never had to help the lead practice it for Cisheteronormativity: The Stage Production, never mind the complete lack of improv lessons. So I just hold her, let her cry into my shoulder. “Hey,” I finally manage to say “they didn’t deserve you anyway. What kind of people have a girl fuck a random person as a hazing ritual?” She looks up for just a moment, right into my eyes, before looking away. “Pretty sure they did it because they figured out that I’m…” she’s safe to tell, Kat, she’s one of ours, I still don’t know how exactly but she is. “That I’m queer.”
“You are?” I nod to answer her, snorting.
“Not in the way I figure they imagined me to be. Pretty sure they thought I was a gay dude and that I’d reject you outright and make you fail. I blame Harry Benjamin and Ray Blanchard for that notion.” If I had a license, or knew someone who had a driver’s license, I’d spend summer vacation on a road trip visiting notable gender neutral bathrooms.
“Who?”
“Shitty dudes that made the lives of trans women worse. Thought they knew us better than we do.”
“Oh.” She slowly pulls out of the hug, as far as I gather from her expression not out of fear, but out of anxiety induced courtesy. “So, you’re a girl?”
Third time’s the charm, it gets easier with each person. “Yeah. My name is Kat. I’m still closeted though. It’s why I performed the way I did. Sorry for that, by the way.” She snorts, a smile on her face at last.
“You were bad on purpose? That’s not how it usually goes?” I shrug to answer her.
“It shouldn’t, no. Congrats, you were non-consensually part of the worst roleplay ever.” I extend my wrists towards her. “Put me in irons, officer, toss me in a cell and throw the key away.”
“We were both coerced into it, if anything the Tau girls deserve jail.” I don’t know if you know how right you are, Liz. I guess there is only one way to find out.
“Hey, Liz? Was there another hazing ritual after, well, me?”
“Yeah, yeah there was, but… but I don’t know what I did.” She fidgets with her hands, trying to find the right words. “I know they didn’t drug me, but all I remember is walking to an old dorm, and then there’s a blank. Just, nothing. A complete void.”
The brain is good at repressing traumatic memories, and what’s more traumatic than your own death? “Sorry to hear it.” I rub my hands to try and warm them up. “Hey, it’s so cold out I think I’ll save money on an orchiectomy, do you want to go inside?” I gesture to a nearby book café, part of a chain with furry theming. I was surprised to find one on campus, not that I ever found the courage to go in on my own. “My treat.”
“Uhm, sure?” She gets up. “Yeah, sure.”
somewhat glad she doesn't remember all of the details
Liz is alive! Maybe?
Oh... Awww.... I'm so glad kat is reaching out to her ; v ;
omg she's back! uh, back-ish. still dead, probably. oof. but back!
Interesting.
We knew Liz would come back but we are so glad to see it. And oof, not remembering your death, that's very fair but also awkward.
She's.. banshee? Wrath? Poltergeist?
Okay I KNOW I read this story somewhere! Was it in a collection? An itch.io bundle?
I released it on Itch back in October of 2023 but it didn't get the response I wanted, so I'm posting the chapters now.