Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Have you seen Pas' new comic? About the person wondering if they should cosplay, and their shoulder angel and devil show up, both going yes, but the Devil is a girl so the person goes "why are you a girl" and the Devil goes "you'll find out in two years"? It's great, it's delightful, the punchline is transition, it has a follow up picture of the person cosplaying a very cute maid, and the Angel having transitioned too. So, my dearest readers declared a story prompt, and so I just kind of farted this out half heartedly without really much though or effort put into it. My writing chops aren't doing that well recently. Might want to take a break.

Anyways, I'm posting this June 1st so remember, the First Pride was a Riot against Police Violence, Black Lives Matter, All Cops Are Bastards, there are no Good Cops because they either don't stay Cops for long or don't stay Good People for long.

Enjoy.

You know the classic cartoon trope of a shoulder angel and a shoulder devil? One representing guilt while the other enables you? Supposed to be shorthand for the character’s inner conflict presented in a comedic visual way, but not something actually real. 

I was still pretty sure my pair weren’t real, just a weird constant hallucination born of schizophrenia that I was at risk of from my mom’s side of the family. The good news was, they didn’t interfere with my life at all, and when I told my therapist about them, she had asked whether they were actively malicious. At the time, I had told her no, that at most the devil was mischievous. That resulted in her telling me to learn to coexist with them, if they help. And overall? They did. And they were very stable hallucinations. Visually based off of me, down to the clothes I was wearing in that moment. 

So imagine my surprise when I awoke one morning to the start of a conversation between the two. “Why are you a girl?” Angel asked Devil. I quickly sat upright upon hearing that. The two of them were floating in my lap. Angel still looked like a tiny, somewhat toony me, with a halo and wings. Devil though? Devil had longer hair, was wearing a dress, his tail swishing behind him and his horns poking from underneath said longer hair. His? Her? Was I supposed to switch what pronouns to use for a hallucination of mine? 

“I realised it fit more.” Devil admitted, doing a little spin in place, her skirt swishing around her. The smile she had on her face made me wonder how doing that would feel. And it was clear from Angel’s face he was thinking it too. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be me?” I spoke up, and Devil just turned right towards me, her face beaming with joy. Not mischievous joy, genuine joy. 

“Yes.” Her answer genuinely caught me off guard. I blinked in confusion for a few seconds, before shrugging and going back to sleep. According to my phone, it was only 6 am. Way too early for me to be up. 

That didn’t mean I could fall asleep though. For the next two hours, I kept hearing the conversation Angel and Devil were having. Angel curious, clumsy when asking, but genuinely sweet about the whole thing. Devil, for her part, answered all of Angel’s questions. Questions I would have been asking, were a friend to suddenly come out to me as a girl. Was my brain just playing out that scenario using my delusions? Couldn’t it have done so in a dream, instead of with a hallucination? I wouldn’t have the kind of detachment from the situation that I had now, were it to be a dream. Angel asked Devil how it felt to be a girl, and Devil answered ‘Right’. Angel asked Devil how she did it, and Devil just said she willed it to happen. And so on and so forth. Luckily they seemed to quiet down after that, and I finally passed out. 

I woke up later that day, to start getting ready for my therapy appointment. Only to find that both Devil and Angel were now girls. “You’re both supposed to be my hallucinations that represent shame and lack of shame. Why are you both girls?” 

“I already said it fits me more, as for Angel-” 

“I realised I was putting on a front for your behalf, and that I, for once, needed to be selfish and care about my needs first, instead of the needs or expectations of others, instead of what society tells us.” Angel spoke for herself after Devil repeated her point. I pointed to them both, in order. 

“You’re supposed to be me, but I’m not a girl.” I objected. There wasn’t much conviction behind those words. Devil’s mischievous smile and Angel’s sad smile let me know they figured as much. I waved them off. I could address it in therapy. 

 The office was cozy. Not in a manufactured way, but in a lived in way. Definitely cozier than my small bedroom. I was sitting across from the therapist in a cozy armchair, as she prepared her notepad. 

“Alright, Charlie, how are you doing today?” Usual opening question, and I’ve had enough sessions with her where I knew how to be honest. 

“I’m exhausted from a bad night’s sleep, and somewhat frustrated and confused.” I admitted, grabbing my wrist. She nodded. 

“Is it related to your two companions?” 

“Yeah, it is.” I took a deep breath, describing hallucinations and treating them as real couldn’t have been professional. But she kept encouraging it, specifically because of Angel and Devil’s form. “So, up until this morning, both of them looked like, well, me. I figured they were supposed to be me, just one with horns the other with a halo. But I got woken up by them at six in the morning, because, get this, Devil turned into a girl. Because it fit her, as she puts it.” The therapist was taking down notes, looking me over, scrolling through her file on me on her laptop. 

“Interesting. Why do you think it happened?” 

“I don’t know, Devil is supposed to be the enabler, the intrusive thoughts, but what she says is never actually mean spirited, just indulgent, mischievous at most, trying to focus on myself first and foremost. So for her to suddenly be a girl, it’s weird.” 

“I see you’ve switched pronouns for Devil.” 

“Well, if we’re going to treat her as a real individual that only I can see, then I’m not going to be a douchebag to her and deny her gender. Even if she’s supposed to be me, she’s a girl now. Angel too, Devil convinced her or something, they’re both girls now!” I stood up, pacing around the room, Angel and Devil sitting on the therapist’s table. Devil floated over to look at the computer screen and giggled to herself. “They’re both supposed to be me, but they’re both girls now, but I’m not a girl.” 

The therapist looking me over, crossing her fingers and holding them to her mouth thoughtfully. “Let’s say, as an experiment, what if you were a girl.” I snorted at her suggestion, as I made my way back to the chair to sit down. 

“Yeah, right, me, a girl. What signs are or were there?” I gestured wildly, mostly for comedic effect. Trying to deflect the idea. 

“Charlie, I have your whole life story on file. And if you do reach that conclusion, you wouldn’t be my first trans patient. Or my second, third or fourth. Patient confidentiality prevents me from giving you the exact number. I will note, you’d be the first one to start questioning their gender due to your shoulder guides transitioning.” The look she gave me was hard to see through her glasses glowing ominously. At least that’s how she felt in that moment. So I just sat there, quietly pondering the situation. That’s when Devil pulled out a diary out of thin air and cleared her throat. 

“September 1st, 2011, Thursday. First day of High School. Catholic School with uniforms. Envious pangs at the girl’s uniforms, justified as the guy’s feeling itchy and uncomfortable fabric wise while the girl’s looked comfortable.” She flipped to another page, rapidly. “Every single Halloween since puberty started: crossdressing costume, with too much effort put into it to be a simple gag. Justified as it being a simple running gag, to see how long you could do it before you ended up looking like a frat bro doing bad drag.” Devil looked me over closely as well. “Answer: You never did.” 

I went to flick her, but she dodged out of the way. The therapist noticed. “Devil’s reading out supposed signs from some sort of diary to rile me up.” She let out a quick, soft laugh. 

“Is it stuff I don’t have on file?” 

“I don’t know, do you have me being supposedly envious of the girl’s uniform and putting too much effort into crossdressing halloween costumes?” I smiled weakly, as the therapist hummed. 

“Don’t have those two. Tell you what, you go home, you listen to all Devil points out, you write it down, and you look it over, and we can talk about it next week. Deal?” She stood up and extended her hand for a shake. So I got up and shook it. 

“Deal. See you next week, Doc.” I left the office, Angel and Devil in tow, and made my way home. 

The ten page document I had written by the time Devil was done left me uttering a single word, a word with all the implication and power behind it that you can picture. A word so universal, saying it was confirming what I had suspected by page two. “Fuck.” 

“Sorry that you’re going to have to take the long road. Good news, you should be able to repurpose SOME of those costumes. Most of them still fit.” Devil was hanging off the screen, upside down. 

“Shut.” She poked her tongue out at me as I told her that. Angel was closer to me, facing the screen. 

“Doing skirt twirls is the best part.” Angel got up and spun in place to demonstrate. I just sighed. At least I got that weight off my shoulders.  

Katie-the-Angel-Witch

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