Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Yes, you're seeing that right, a cat pun for the title. Honestly this one I wasn't going for trans feels that heavily, I was going for autism and otherkin feels. It's still soft and fluffy and cute. As have been all these tales up until this one.

I entered my small apartment, flipping the light switch on and kicking off my shoes in the process. Work had left me exhausted again. I just wanted to curl up in bed and take a nap. Unfortunately, I had stuff to do. I made my way to my desk and slumped down onto the chair like a ragdoll, reaching into my bag to pull out another gift for ‘Cat’. This time, a little ball with a jingle bell inside it. I gave it a little flick on my desk, enjoying the sound, before opening the drawer with the other toys inside to toss it in there. 

I was starting to regret telling Margaret I had a cat named Cat. I’m not good about having people in my personal space, especially when it came to my apartment, and Margaret had been desperately trying to invite herself in, trying to befriend me by being too persistent and overbearing. Lucky for me, she had mentioned an allergy to cats when she was talking about pets, and so I had blurted out I had one. This had unintended side effects. She no longer wanted to visit my apartment, and she was keeping her distance a bit more, but she had decided to give me toys to deliver to Cat. I hadn’t even thought up a name in that moment. If I knew anything about lying, it was that keeping them as simple as possible without room for them to get convoluted would make it easy to keep the story straight. “I have a cat I call Cat because names are hard to come up with” is as straightforward as it gets. And I had kept that lie up for nine months. 

In all my reminiscing, I hadn’t realised I was still mindlessly flicking the ball across my desk. Its surface felt nice to the touch, with all the little holes on it. I doubted it was safe giving a cat a metal toy, but the heft of it was comforting, and the sound was fun. It was then I looked into the drawer and figured, with how restless and fidgety I usually got, it might be nice to have something for my hands to do. So with that, I closed the drawer, and got to de-stressing after a hard day of work. 

The following morning, I felt off. Way too off. Killer cramps in my abdomen, a headache, lower back pain, my ears felt itchy, and my muscles felt sore. I barely managed to reach for my phone to dial my supervisor. Which, surprise, as of two days ago, was Margaret. She picked up almost immediately. “Martin! I think this is the first time you’ve called me.” There was a reason for that, I hadn’t asked for her number until I needed it for these situations. “Does Cat like the new toy? I got it at this little hole in the wall, styled like a magic store, incredibly charming. The clerk claimed hearing its tune reveals truths about yourself.” I didn’t enjoy Margaret’s tangents. They just run off and on and on and never got to the point when I just needed a quick straightforward answer or directive. 

“Yeah, Cat loves it; she wouldn’t stop playing with it all night.” Okay, add sore throat to the list of symptoms. Felt like I had something stuck in it, and it showed clearly in my voice. 

“Are you okay, Martin? You don’t sound so good.” Nice of you to state the obvious, Margaret. 

“It’s why I’m calling. I don’t think I can make it into work today. Killer cramps, headache, sore throat, sore muscles, I don’t know what I got, but I don’t want anyone else to get it.” The cramps had chosen that exact moment to flare up, making me groan in pain and clutch at my stomach, breathing heavily. 

“Oh dear oh dear, that does sound incredibly serious, Martin. Tell you what, we’ve got enough people here and you have unclaimed vacation time; how about I set you up with a week’s worth? If you’re feeling okay tomorrow, just come in and continue working. Get well soon!” Margaret’s voice sounded so sweet on the other end, I thought my teeth would rot away. 

“Thanks, Margaret, I really appreciate that. I’ll try to.” I hung the call up, put my phone back on the nightstand, struggling to stretch my arm to it, before I clutched at my stomach and kept breathing heavily until I passed out.

I don’t know how long I had been out. One moment, I was lying awake in agony, the next I’m waking up, cramps gone, soreness gone, but replaced with a distinct feeling of cold. I should rephrase the “soreness gone” aspect. My throat still felt sore. And I’d gotten a serious cough that left me running to the bathroom. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say what came out of me shocked me. I didn’t recall eating fur. 

And I didn’t recall shaving that morning. My gaze landed on the mirror and I noticed a distinct lack of morning scruff on my face. And as I waddled over to the mirror, I paid close attention to my face. I wasn’t looking nearly as tired I should have been looking. Hell, I was looking healthier than ever. Younger too, you wouldn’t guess I was twenty-four, you’d guess closer to eighteen. I rubbed my face in confusion. It felt way too soft, as did my hands. Plus, upon further inspection, my pyjamas weren’t fitting me quite as well either. 

My ears chose that moment to itch again, as did my lower back, and unable to ignore it, I went to scratch them. Which, through some unknown means, calmed me down for like two seconds, until I panicked a bit at my reaction. I really wanted to bite my nails in that moment. I had a horrible habit of it. Nobody at the office knew, but I was wearing clear nail polish specifically because the taste of it put me off from chewing my nails. But the drive was there, the desire was there. I needed something to chomp down on. I was pacing through my apartment after my little check in the mirror, and my eyes caught a glimpse of it. The drawer. 

I couldn’t; those were cat toys, you don’t buy a cat toy for yourself. But my brain turned off for a moment. I was pulling out a silicone mouse toy for chewing on within seconds. It didn’t occur to me until after I had it in my mouth, easing a toothache I had begun feeling the closer I had approached the drawer, that if it was safe for cats to chew on, it would be safe for people to chew on. 

Curled up on my bed, absentmindedly chewing on the mouse, I managed to ignore the itch on my ears and back. I just wanted to lay there and chew. I had no clue what kind of illness would make you want to chew cat toys. I hadn’t grown up around cats, and I knew to just observe the feral neighborhood ones, even if there was a desire to pet them, so it couldn’t have been a weird case of toxoplasmosis. I reached for my phone, trying to unlock it with the fingerprint scanner, but it wasn’t reacting. After the third try, I just punched in my pin, and went to google my symptoms. Desire to chew, desire to nap and not do anything, looking younger. The search result I got was a tumblr post, of all things. ‘Possible Traits of Aspergers in Females’. I scrolled through the list out of boredom. And then I scrolled through the list again. And then I scrolled through the list a third time, this time on my computer, with a Word document open into which I was copying all the traits that applied to me. This was followed up with me pacing around the apartment, muttering one word over and over again. “Fuck.” 

I must have said it at least fifty times, probably three times as many. I dived deep into research. I must have spent a solid eight hours on it, absentmindedly playing with the bell ball while scrolling through resources. One post mentioned in a cute way how cats are autistic, since their behaviors were so similar to people on the spectrum. I chuckled at the realisation that I hadn’t COMPLETELY lied to Margaret about there being a cat in my apartment. Except the cat had been me the whole time. I stretched, grunting in the process. Sounded different than I was expecting. I hadn’t realised until that moment that I had not only forgotten to eat breakfast, I had forgotten lunch and might very well be on the way to forgetting dinner. 

And so I got off the chair, and the moment I did, I felt off. I was much more sensitive to the texture of my pyjamas, which I had bought specifically because the fabric texture had felt nice and soft. I was feeling it most prominently on two spots. On my chest, which was sticking out in a way it shouldn’t have been. I quickly walked to the bathroom, stepping on the balls of my feet instead of the full foot, and I took a long, hard look into the mirror. 

A catgirl was staring back at me. Ears on top of my head, a tail swishing behind me, both of them a soft grey with darker tips, my hair matching them in hue. My eyes the same shade as before, but decidedly, definitely cat-like. I hadn’t even realised the lights were still off in the bathroom, and the living room, my computer monitor being the only source of light in the entire apartment, and me seeing as well as if it was a cloudy morning. Good thing my jaw dropped when I saw myself, because otherwise I might not have noticed the fangs I now sported. 

And I was so focused on the cat part, I hadn’t even taken into consideration the girl part! I took off my pyjamas to get a proper look, to directly confront the reality of my new form. What I saw made me happy. It made me happy in ways my old body didn’t. It all fit. All of it. The human girl parts. The cat ears and tail. The paw pads on my hands -- oh my god, I had toe beans on my hands. I checked my feet. 

I had toe beans on my feet. I touched my face. My beans felt nice on my cheeks, and my cheeks felt nice to my beans. My tail was slowly swishing from side to side. I was purring. I felt whole. My stomach reminded me of the fact I hadn’t eaten all day, and so I padded over to the fridge, checking its contents. Oh, I was about to feel like a parody of myself. “Cats can have little a salami, as a treat,” I giggled to myself, as I grabbed the sealed pack. This cat was going to have more than little a salami. 

I woke up at noon the following day, having spent the rest of the previous one researching why I was fine with turning into a cute catgirl. Turns out the answer to the girl part was extremely simple: I’m trans. The catgirl part, though, that took more digging. My research led me to something called being otherkin. It’s a spiritual belief that you are something other than human. A bunch of people on the autism spectrum, another term I learned during my research, are also otherkin, because it’s comforting, with there being an advanced form, so to speak, called being therian, where your internal body map actually aligns with being non human. So, everything feeling right and in its place with me turning into a catgirl? My internal bodymap had all those pieces. 

It’s similar logic to how you get gender dysphoria in regards to your body, your body map not aligning with what you currently have. I must have repressed mine pretty strongly, because I had trouble recalling whether I had ever really felt it. Then again, memory forming and recollection is affected by being neurodivergent. 

Anyways, all this left me with only one question unanswered: How did the transformation actually happen? Thinking about it led me to flick the jingle ball across my desk absentmindedly once more, which is when it hit me. Margaret. She had mentioned a magic-themed store where she had obtained the bell. And that hearing it reveals truths about yourself. I shot her a text, asking for details about the store. So I could check it out to get Cat more toys, of course. Cat. Heh. Coming up with names was hard, and my current one was one that felt bitter on my tongue and in my heart. 

Cat. Kat. Kat-herine. Hey, at least I wouldn’t be lying about the cat living in my apartment being named Kat. 

Once Margaret remembered the name of the place, I quickly looked up where it was. To my surprise I was, quite literally, on top of it. The Midnight Walk-in was in the little storefront area of my apartment building on the ground floor. I had to dig through my wardrobe for something to wear, though. I couldn’t just walk downstairs buck naked or wearing pyjamas. An old pair of shorts with a string through them to tie up for bottoms, a comfortable t-shirt that was quite baggy on me now, and a beanie to hide my ears. I coiled my tail around my stomach to hide it, and put my hands in the shorts’ pockets to hide the beans on those. But shoes? Shoes felt weird with my toe beans on my feet. I figured I’d have to power through them for just a short walk, and so I braced myself to endure them. 

Margaret describing the store as magic-themed didn’t begin to cover it. I could SWEAR the jarred creatures in the ‘Familiars’ section of the store were pulling a Toy Story. They smelled alive. The young lady behind the counter looked bored, up until she saw me. “Welcome to Midnight Walk-In, your local magic shop. How can I help?” I made my way over to the counter when she spoke up, seeing her name tag as Penny T. Gram. I wasn’t used to seeing full names on name tags, or ones that were puns. I pulled the jingle ball out of my pocket and put it on the counter. 

“Two days ago, you sold this item to a nice but ultimately overbearing lady, kinda short and plump, short blonde hair, gives off the vibe of an overexcited dog.” Oh, okay, add that to the list of reasons I didn’t click with her. “She bought it under the assumption it was a cat toy, and had thus given it to me as a gift for my fake invented cat.” Penny was nodding to my explanation, one hand on her chin, the other on her elbow. 

“Let me guess.” She reached out and pulled off my beanie, letting my ears pop free. “Yup, figures. Are you here to turn back?” 

“I would deploy the claws I’m pretty sure I have now to rip your face off if you tried to change me back.” Ooops, too much. “Sorry, that was too blunt and hurtful. I’m more interested in the actual mechanics of it.” Penny shrugged at that, carefully picking the ball up. 

“It’s a tuning fork, pretty much. Except it makes sure your body resonates with your soul, if they’re out of tune. Auntie built it when I came out.” Penny was smiling at the small metal ball now. Okay, that origin made sense for it, and if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t have believed magic was real. So, with a nod and a hum, I asked the one question I had left for her. 

“Could I work here? I doubt I can return to my old job like this, and a witch having a familiar would add to the charm of the store, I’d like to think.” 

“Can you handle customer service?” Penny crossed her arms, looking me over. 

“I should be able to, and if I can’t, I can just make my autism an endearing cat-like trait for the customers.” Penny shrugged at my answer, and extended her hand for me to shake. 

“I’ll prep the contract; come here tomorrow morning, we’ll finalise the details. Maybe business will pick up with me having a real-life catgirl behind the counter.” I shook the hand Penny offered, and with a subtle smile, took the ball back and left. 

That happened three weeks ago. I had to let Margaret know I’d have to quit work due to an unexpected turn of events. She really seemed broken up about it at the time. Which made me feel bad somewhat. It turned out Penny wasn’t just my new boss, but also my neighbor, which made working easier and a bit weirder as well. Mostly because Penny would have me spend the night in her apartment cuddling. I endured three days of that before I put my foot down and established that I have touch batteries and cuddling every night was draining them too fast. So she gave me her spare keys, letting me walk in at my leisure. 

I was checking myself in the mirror, making sure I was ready for the day. A little black dress with tied-up spaghetti straps to hold it up, and white stockings that were open where they’d usually be closed, making them effectively long tight leg warmers. Just one piece of my outfit remained. I tied the ribbon around my neck, snuggly but comfortably, and gave the jingle ball placed on it a little flick, making sure the sound was nice and clear. And with that, I made my way down to the store, settling behind the counter. 

The first customer to come in that day? Well, something about them gave me the feeling they oughta give my necklace a flick. 

I figure you want to give it one too.  

Katie-the-Angel-Witch

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