Getting home was nerve wracking.  I hated being out in the Christie Pits after 10pm – there were gangs, and it was a fairly high crime area.  Ontario Housing always is.  It’s not that the people in Ontario Housing are bad people – it’s just when you cram a whole lot of people into a small geographical area, the percentage of people who are going to commit crimes goes up a lot – and when you add in low income, and for many unemployment, well, violent crimes just followed along.  For a while I thought I was being followed, but I reached my apartment safely, and got inside.

 

                Breathing a little easier, I headed to the elevator – which unsurprisingly still smelled like burnt rope and chemicals – and rode up to my floor.  Apartment 404.  I liked it because I always told people my apartment was a “404 – not found.”  Some of my nerdier friends – mostly my gaming group and a few people at work – got the joke.  Others looked at me weird.  Oh well, I thought.  I guess the joke wasn’t for them.  I didn’t have many visitors.

 

                Once I finished the ritual unlocking of the three locks, I got into my small apartment, and turn on the lights.  Immediately I felt a bump on my ankle, and heard a cute little “Brrup!” as my cat Pepsi came to greet me.  Pepsi was two years old, still with a lot of kitten in her.  She loved chasing string, still hunted the red laser pointer, and in general was super awesome.  She had interesting fur too – she looked like a small cougar, with reddish tinged tawny fur.

 

                “Hey Pepsi!  How are you doing?”  I called out, taking off my coat and boots.  I hated walking around my apartment with shoes, so I always had people take their shoes off.  Not that anyone visited much.

 

                Pepsi meowed, and head butted me again.  She was hungry – and happy to see me.

 

                “Yeah, Mommy will get you dinner.”  I went to my small kitchen, and got the little tyke some food, and soon she was happily munching on Seafood Dinner or something like that.  I only fed her wet food – plus a bit of kibble.  I had heard too much kibble could cause kidney problems, and I took care of my furbaby.

 

                A look at the clock told me that it was well after 10pm by the time I got home.  Crud.  It was late –and if I didn’t want to be late again tomorrow, I’d better be in the sack with an alarm set by 11:30pm.  I put my duffel in the kitchen, and went to get dressed for bed.  Once I was more relaxed, I headed to the kitchen, and prepped my lunch for the next day – I probably wouldn’t have time in the morning.  Satisfied everything was done, I left Pepsi eating and logged on to the internet for a half-hour of answering emails and browsing facebook and a few other sites.

 

                The time went too quickly, and I realized it was time to turn the computer off and sleep.  Am I really going to do this?  I wondered.  Is this really happening?  I realized I felt scared – but I also felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  I felt light – like I could almost fly.  I didn’t know how to explain the feeling – it wasn’t one I’d had in so long I didn’t know what to call it.  Hope, maybe?  If so, I liked it.

 

                In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and flossed, and washed my face.  It wasn’t a bad face, I guess, as faces go…  It was just too damn male.  I was glad I didn’t have to shave anymore – that was a godsend, being lasered clean – but the squareness of my jawline and the ridge on my forehead reeked “MALE” like sign in bold red letters.  I knew surgery could help that, and so could hairstyles.  I wondered if it would make enough of a difference.  I had short brown hair, some of it going silver, with muddy green eyes, and a little too much flesh to look attractive.  Some people had called me handsome in the past – but I never wanted to be handsome, and so their words stung, even if it was unintended.  I tried to imagine myself looking like a woman – and I couldn’t.  “I hope Eddie’s right about this.”  I muttered.  I hope.

 

                I went to bed, but sleep was a long time coming.  My mind was awhirl with worries of what would happen the next day, of what my few other friends would think – of what my parents would say.   In the end I worried myself to sleep.

 

 

*              *              *

 

                I woke the next morning to the annoying *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* of my alarm and did my best effort not to destroy the clock as I turned it off.  I groaned a bit, and felt a bit of warmth on my chest – it was Pepsi, my little kitty, sleeping on me.  She turned to me, with a disgruntled look as if to say “Don’t you dare move!”

 

                I smiled at my little cat.  “Sorry honey.”  I said, shifting, putting her on the bed next to me.  “Mommy has to go to work.”  When I crawled out of bed, she immediately took the spot I had been in, and curled up – at least partially content.  I smiled – she did this every morning – it was part of our routine.

 

                I headed to the kitchen and got a glass of ice water, and grabbed a box of cereal and some milk.  Breakfast of champions?  I wondered.  I doubt champions eat “Fruity O’s” but hey, they taste good.  I also popped a bagel into the toaster and set it to toast.  I knew I could grab stuff on the way to work if I wanted, but living frugally was the only way I could make ends meet – and I was lucky enough to have a decent job.  It was just above minimum wage – but it was 40 hours a week with some benefits, and that was worth a lot.

 

                I shook the treat jar – and like usual, Pepsi came running.  After treating her to a few crunchy catnip treats, I turned on the TV to CP24 – a rollover news channel with weather and road conditions and other breaking news.   A while later, I polished off the bagel with some cream cheese, and was packing my lunch.  The TV had said today was going to be overcast – but the rain we expected had drifted to the north overnight and we should be relatively dry.  

 

                I got up, and finished the business of getting ready for work – shower, dressing, saying goodbye to Pepsi – you know – the usual – and headed out in good time to get to the bus stop well ahead of schedule.

 

                I saw my landlord, Phil, and his wife Theresa on the way out.  They were nice people – a little elderly, but nice, and they were great landlords.  All they ask was the rent was on time – on everything else they would work with you.  Problems with no hot water? Check!  Leaky taps?  Check!  The only thing they hated was being late with rent – so I had developed a habit of paying rent first, and literally everything else came second or third.

 

                As I headed out into the cool autumn morning, I felt a little uplifted by last nights’ decision.  I was still scared – but I was positive about it.  Hopeful at least.  The air had a significant chill to it.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the rain we were supposed to get later was snow instead.  Yuck.  Winter is too soon.

 

 

*              *              *

 

                Eddie was already at a desk, sipping probably his second coffee of the day.  I had a bottle of diet coke with me, partially full.  I waved as I headed in, and put my stuff down next to him.

 

                “Morning, Kevin.  How’d you sleep?”  Eddie asked.

 

                “Good, all things considered.” I replied.  “I’m going to go talk to Sharon about seeing HR.”

 

                Eddie smiled.  “I’m glad you’re still doing that.  I hope it helps you.”

 

                “Well, I’d like to say it can’t make anything worse, but we both know that’s not true.  I have to do it anyway.  For me.”  I tried to look as full of resolve as I had last night, and I wasn’t sure if I succeeded or not – but it was something.

 

                “Good luck!”

 

                “Thanks.”

 

                A few moments later, I was at Sharon Nordstrom’s office door.  I gulped, and then knocked.

 

                “Come in!”  I heard her say in a rather clipped voice.  Oh great, I thought, she sounds really pissed off again.  I wonder what it is this time?

 

                “Hello, Ms. Nordstrom.”  I began.  “Could I have a moment of your time?”

 

                “Of course, Mister Castle.  It’s good to see you here on time today.”  She smirked at the last comment, like it was a joke for her.  Maybe it was?

 

                “I was wondering if I could get an appointment with HR later today.  About a personal matter.”

 

                “Is there anything I can help with, Kevin?” she asked, which surprised me, because she rarely used anyone’s first name.

 

                “I don’t think so, Ma’am, but thank you.”  I replied, a little worried.

 

                “Alright.”  She looked at her computer terminal.  “They have a spot open at 4:45pm today.  I’ll make sure you can log off the network to go see them.”  She turned back to me, and looked serious for a moment.  “Mister Castle, I hope that if you were being bullied, or harassed, you would alert me to it.  It is my job to keep that sort of behavior under control.”

 

                “No ma’am – it’s not that.  Most people here are just great.  It’s a personal issue, like I said.”

 

                She looked at me dubiously, and nodded.  “Alright then.  Myself or one of the other supervisors will get you this afternoon before it’s time for your appointment.”  Her lips were a bit pursed, like she was annoyed, or thinking something.

 

                “Thank you, Ma’am.  Very much.”  I got up and headed back to my desk, feeling like a mouse that had just walked out of the lion’s den alive.  I honestly don’t know why she terrified me so much – but I knew part of it was that she had literal control over my livelihood, and if she had a bad day I could lose everything.  Most of the office feared her – and it seemed she liked it that way.

 

                “How’d it go, Kev?”  Eddie asked as I returned to my desk.

 

                “Pretty good, actually.  I have an appointment with HR at 4:45pm.”

 

                “Great!  I hope it goes well.”  Eddie smiled, and tried to be supporting.

 

                “Me too, Eddie.  Me too.”

 

                We chatted for a little while till the clocks showed our shift starting, and logged onto the system to check any system updates or emails from higher up.  A few minutes later, we donned our headphones and got started taking calls.

 

                The work was interesting – we had been trained in how internet services were provided to customers, how the routers worked, and had a system of files we could call upon to solve most problems.  The real trick was dealing with the people behind the problem – the users.  We often joked the real problem was PEBCAC – “Problem exists between Computer and Chair” – which was more often than not, true.

 

                Oddly enough, I didn’t have problems socializing on the phone with people I had never met, and would likely never talk to again.  I was polite, professional, and did my job well – and most people were just glad to get someone that spoke English clearly that they were polite back.  I still laughed at the time one customer thought I was an automated voice, and started pushing buttons to get an operator.  It actually took five minutes to explain to him he had reached a real Customer Service Rep and not a computer.  I smiled – that was one of the good days.

 

                Time passed, and as my appointment approached, I felt my nerves get jittery.  Finally, around 4:30pm, Scott – one of my supervisors – came over, and told me to log off.  I did, and Eddie gave me the thumbs up – I smiled back, and headed down to HR.

 

                The HR office was small, and painted a kind of blue that made me think they wanted “Robins Egg” blue – but just got a kind of lame pastel blue like you see on an Easter egg.  The secretary took my name, and I sat down to wait.  Two other people were waiting with me – a young woman in her early twenties, with brunette hair and a Green Day shirt.  The other was a man – probably in his mid thirties, wearing a shirt, tie, and slacks – much like I was – and running shoes.  I idly wondered what they were here for, and looked out the window.  It was still overcast, and yucky – but strange lights played in the sky, like some sort of messed up foxfire or aurora borealis.

 

                Didn’t that usually happen at night? I asked myself.

 

                I wasn’t the only one who saw it, either.  The man in his thirties came over to have a look.  “I wonder what’s going on?”  He muttered.

 

                I wondered too, but before I do anything, there was a huge flash of light - like a bolt of lightning so titanic it lit up the entire sky - followed by a peal of thunder so loud it sounded like the hammer of God striking.  The force of the thunderclap was so strong, the windows rattled, and then cracked, leaving a spiderweb pattern in the glass.  The strange lights fell over me - and suddenly,  I began to feel like my body was burning up.  I gasped, and clutched the arms of my chair to try and keep from falling to the floor.  Suddenly, it seemed as if I was consumed by the weird  lights – and then I felt my bones shifting – breaking – and my skin burning all over my body.  I screamed in terror, and in pain – and then all I knew was darkness.