Only A Girl For Halloween - Part 1

PART 2 | ALL STORY LIST

A short story

I'm so excited that I can hardly think of sleeping.

Tomorrow is Halloween–my favorite holiday! Tonight, at 12:01 am, I will be going through a transformation that I have experienced every year of my life. And this will be more special than ever since I am sixteen. Sweet sixteen.

By 12:15 am, I will be a sixteen-year-old girl named Gloria. What's strange about that, you ask? Well, right now, I am a sixteen-year-old boy named George–a name which I detest, by the way.

Every year of my life, I have morphed into the girl I would have been–had I been born a girl–on the morning of Halloween. And I have stayed a girl for one day for each year of my life. That means that I'll be Gloria for sixteen days this year. However, what's really cool about this year is that I'm old enough to date, and my best friend, Jessica, has talked one of our male classmates into taking me to the Halloween party being held at our school.

I can hardly wait.

As I mentioned, I turn into a girl every Halloween. Nobody really knows why this is. There is some unsubstantiated suspicion that my parent's ticked off an old woman down the street just before I was born–something about my father accidentally running the car over her cat. The old lady still lives at the end of the street in a dark old house. She scowls at my father whenever she sees him.

The change's first time was just after my first birthday (my birthday is in late October). My parents flew into a panic and rushed me to the hospital, where everyone puzzled over me all day. When she came in to check on me the next morning, the nurse found that I'd morphed back into a baby boy. This had everyone totally confused.

The next year, it happened again–right on schedule. This time the 'condition' lasted for forty-eight hours. It didn't take too many years for the pattern to become apparent. Every 30th October at 10:00 pm, I fall into a deep sleep, and every 31st October at 12:01 am, I spend fifteen minutes morphing into a genetically complete female.  The doctors used to have me stay at the hospital so they could observe and video the event, but after I turned twelve, my parents said enough was enough, so now I transition at home without a peanut gallery watching on.  The duration of the condition increases by twenty-four hours each year.

Mom has a photo album with pictures from Halloween each year. When I was two years old, she dressed me up in a cute little dragon costume that a neighbor girl had once used. Like all small children, I look adorable. Dressing up for Halloween has become my favorite thing to do. In the early years, I was several different animals and faeries. As I got older, I graduated into witches, Disney princesses, cowgirls, etc. My favorite was a Roman princess costume that I wore when I was twelve. It consisted of a white gown with a silver sash draped over my shoulder, and Mom put my hair up in a very fancy fashion with a tiara. In the pictures, I look like a very happy girl. And I was. For some reason, I reveal in the experience each year–it just feels so right. I really look forward to dressing up every Halloween. In fact, I love my girl time so much that I treat every day of it as a dress-up day. In addition to the Halloween pictures, I think there's a picture in the album for every girl's day of my life; however, I love the Halloween pictures the best.

I have an older sister, Helen, and two younger brothers–Jeff and Bill. My parents were worried about my brothers having the same issue, but the change has never happened. I'm the only "lucky one." Dad still freaks out a little about the change but seems accepting of it most of the time. Mom seems to love it, and so does Helen. My brothers are almost ambivalent about my annual blossoming, but you can tell that they like me better in boy mode.

Once the pattern became apparent, my mother started saving my sister's old clothes for me to use during my girl time. She doesn't see any point in buying me a new wardrobe each year just for a couple of days or weeks. The only concession is in underwear. She buys me new panties each year.

When I was younger, I didn't think anything of the change. As I became old enough to realize some of the differences between boys and girls, it still didn't bother me. I was happy to look like my older sister for a few days each year. On those days, Helen and I would spend more time together than we usually do, and she'd show me a thing or two about being a girl. She often commented how she wished I could be her younger sister permanently.

We live in a relatively small town in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where everyone knows everyone else. Few people move into town–more move out. We live a long commute from where most people work. The population has been slowly declining and aging, but my core group of friends has remained essentially the same my whole life. They all know about the change. While it really freaks out some of my male friends, the girls seem to be good with it though they don't completely accept me as one of them while I'm in girl mode. One of my best friends, Jessica, seems to be almost more excited about the annual change than I am. She has my girl days all planned out this year.

Unfortunately, I have to continue going to school while I'm a girl. This has caused some issues for the school authorities. Not all the girls and families are comfortable with me going into the girl's locker room or bathrooms as they know I'll be turning back into a boy again shortly. This seems a little hypocritical as most girls pester me when I'm in girl mode with questions about what it's like in the boys' locker room. I don't tell them–much. When in girl mode, I usually use the more private staff bathroom for changing clothes and necessary body functions.

I am typically a little late for school on Halloween as there is a mad scramble to sort through my sister's old clothes to find something appropriate and which fits. The good news is that I am essentially the same size that Helen was at the same age. The issues arise in questions of style. Gloria wants to be her own girl, not just a reincarnation of Helen.

Anyway, after school tomorrow, I am going to Jessica's house to put the finishing touches on my costume for the big party tomorrow night. We've been planning it for some time now. It took a long time to decide what to go as. I wanted to go as southern belles, but Jessica shot that down as the hooped skirts would be a real pain at the crowded party–not to mention in the car when traveling to and from the party. Jessica wanted to go as pirates, but I insisted on something with a skirt–I want to declare my girlhood while I can. We ended up with me going as Hermione from Harry Potter (I know, that's so old these days, but I just love the story!), and she is going as Katniss from the Hunger Games. Mom insists that any skirt I wear is at least knee length and no cleavage spoilsport! We order me a wig that looks like Hermione's hair, Hogwarts robes, a school tie, a school scarf, and a wand. The skirt and top I've taken from the store of Helen's old clothes. We added some grey knee socks to complete the look. With some good make up I should be a very believable Hermione Granger. Jason, my date, agreed to dress like a Hogwarts boy so we could match.

I'll stay over for dinner at Jessica's, and our dates will pick us up there. Mom insists that we come by our house on the way to the party so that she can get some pictures for the album.

Jessica has planned for me to go shopping with her for the two Saturdays that I'll be in girl mode in the following days. Occasionally we'll meet up with other girls from school to do girly things. She is even planning two sleepovers with girls who are cool with my change. It should be fun.

Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed being a boy. I have been developing into a tall skinny boy. I've shot up in height, but I am still pretty skinny, in part because I am a distance runner for the cross country and track teams. I'm pretty good at it too. I started to shave this year, and my voice has deepened considerably, which has been very satisfying. I actually have taken an interest in one girl at school, but she doesn't pay me any attention–I've been too nervous about making a move to ask her out. Maybe now that I'm sixteen, I'll find the courage to ask her out after my annual condition passes. I shouldn't be so nervous–after all, I know more about girls than the average guy!

It seems strange, but as you've noticed by now, I really like being a girl too. Maybe it's because the season is so short, but I just want to be all girl when I can. I tried cross-dressing once while in boy mode to see if the magic feelings were there, but it was a bust. I don't present well as a girl when in boy mode, and it doesn't feel right. When I become a girl, I typically lose about four inches in height and thirty to forty pounds in weight, so my Gloria clothes just don't work for a cross-dressing George. I don't keep Gloria's clothes around after I change back to George–there is no point in it as I grow some each year. Mom just gives them to charity after I'm done with them.

Well, now that you have the background, I need to get to sleep. Despite my excitement, I won't be able to keep my eyes open much longer. It's almost 10:00 PM now.

Two Days Later.

The morning of Saturday, 1st November

What a night we had last night! The Halloween party was fantastic. We didn't win any prizes for our costumes, but we had a great time anyway. We went to the local pizza joint to eat afterward. Our dates were pretty lovely, guys–all of us were a bit nervous as this was actually the first date for all four of us. Jason made an abortive attempt to nonchalantly put his arm around me at the pizza place–I kind of wish he had succeeded. We've all known each other all our lives but had never done anything like dating. Jason is cool with my change and was just being a friend–though he did give me a quick kiss on the lips when he dropped me off at home last night. I was hoping for my first real kiss, but I guess that will have to wait. There are no 'sparks,' but we did have a good time. I agreed to go with him to a movie tonight on another double date with Jessica and Andy. Maybe he'll be brave enough to put his arm around me in the theatre. I'd like to know what it is like to snuggle up to a guy.

What I can't understand right now is why I'm wide awake at 5:30 am after getting home at 11:30 pm last night. Jessica stayed the night, and we talked until after 1:00 am before we both fell asleep in my double bed. She's still sleeping, and I'm feeling a compulsion to go for a run. It's still dark and chilly outside.

Sighing, I roll quietly out of bed and use a small headlamp to locate some running clothes. My running habit carries over into both of my bodies, so there are some running clothes here for Gloria to use. I couldn't stand to give up running for over two weeks. I have running shorts, a sports bra, and hand-me-down sweats which actually fit. This year, my hair is down to just below my shoulder blades, so I find a scrunchie to hold my hair up in a high ponytail.  I really like the way it swings when I walk or run. I wear my hair on the longish side of shorts when I'm George, so this is a significant change.

While stretching out my muscles on the front lawn, I notice that the old woman's house down at the end of the street is still lit up as if expecting more trick-or-treaters. That seems odd. I wonder if the old woman is ill or something. I've never really talked with her over the years, but she does smile at me when she sees me–unlike when she sees my parents.

She always has excellent Halloween decorations, and the kids love going to see the 'haunted' house down the street. She gives out lots of candy. If we gave out awards for the best-decorated place, her home would be at the top of the list.

I walk over to her house to see what's going on. The lit pumpkin on the porch looks unusually fresh for having been out in the frosty air all night. As I get closer, I notice that the candle is a fresh one. It couldn't have been lit for more than ten minutes or so. The carving of the pumpkin is also very unique. It has two faces–one male and one female. Also, as I get closer, Halloween-type noises start to emit from speakers hidden on the porch–you know, moaning wind in the trees, the occasional cackle, squeaky door hinges, bubbling goo, etc.

I stand before the porch, wondering what to do when the front door slowly opens of its own accord, and the old woman's voice emanates from the dark recesses of the house.

"Please come in, Gloria," she says. "I'm pleased that you could come."

Stepping cautiously up onto the porch, I cautiously enter the house.

The entryway is lit with candles, and there are Halloween decorations here as well. Commercially made cobwebs, spiders hanging from the ceiling, and a ghost cutout on the wall.

The old woman, Mrs. Jackson, is standing in the middle of the adjacent parlor wearing a very elaborate witch's costume. She even has a broom. I particularly like the stereotypical pointed hat. It has quite a wide brim and is strangely sexy looking. I want one like that next time I dress as a witch for Halloween.

Smiling at me, she looks much younger than she usually does.

"Um, hello?" I nervously give her a little finger wave.

"Come in," she cheerfully encourages me, "Come in, dear. We have something to discuss."

She crosses over to a couch and sits. Patting the seat beside her, she invites me to sit with her.

"My, you've turned out to be such a pretty young lady," she continues. "I'm sure you're wondering why I invited you over this morning."

"Invited me?" I query.

"Yes, Yes, dear." She bubbles at me. "I sent you the prompting to get up early and then to come to see me. You didn't need to follow the compulsion, of course. Lord knows how teenagers like to sleep in on a Saturday morning. I appreciate you making an effort."

I'm totally at a loss here.

"Um," is my less than intelligent response.

"How do you like being a girl?" she asks.

"Fine," I reply in confusion.

"Not much of one for conversation in the morning," she observes, "are you dear? Well, let me mention a few things to get the conversation going."

"First of all, Gloria, I know all about your condition." She continues. "I'm responsible for it."

That clears up that mystery, but that could only happen by magic. Who believes in magic these days?

"How?" I ask. "Why?"

"Then how is easy," she grins. "I'm a witch."

Looking a little sheepish, she continues, "Then why I'm a little ashamed of."

"Oh?" I prompt her.

"You see," she looks down, "I lost control of my temper when your father accidentally killed my familiar with his car. He didn't seem to understand the gravity of what he'd done. Your mother wasn't much better."

"I sort of put a spell on you," she mumbles, "Just before you were born. It was childish and irresponsible of me to be spiteful, but I couldn't undo it once it was done. Even after I realized that your father was not at fault. It was an accident. He could have been a bit more sorry about it, though."

"So, "I cautiously summarize, "You threw a temper tantrum, and now I'm paying the price?"

"Is it really all that bad?" she asks me with remorse in her voice.

"Well," I admit, "Not really. I actually look forward to my girl days. I just feel wonderful when I'm a girl. I can't explain it. Was that part of the spell?"

"No, no, no," she quickly responds, "I can't change the way you look at things, just the physical. I'd get in more trouble than I did if I messed with your mind and heart. Your character, thoughts, and feelings are all your own doing. That's why I asked how you like being a girl."

"Well," I reply thoughtfully, "I like it just fine, but then again, I'm only a girl for a few days a year. I haven't had to do it full time or anything."

"How do you like being a boy?" she asks.

I shrug. "I like that too. I think that I do pretty well with being a boy; after all, that is what I was born as."

"If you could choose between the two," she looks intensely into my eyes, "which would you choose?"

There's a big question. How to respond? I've been mostly boy, and that's what I know best. I like it, but being a boy misses the zing I get from being a girl. Would that zing of being a girl be there if the situation were reversed? I don't know.

"I don't know," I reply, surprised.

"Well," she says matter-of-factly, "you need to figure it out."

"Why?" I ask in surprise. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," she informs me. "This is the last year of the change. When I cast the spell, I figured that it'd give your parents heartache while you still live at home, but there'd be little point in continuing as you approach adulthood. This is to be the last year of the change. Originally, I was going to have you change back into a boy and leave it at that, but after watching you all these years, I think I'll make it up to you by giving you a choice to stay as you are now or return; to being George forever."

Wow, I think to myself. I never saw this coming. I think that I'll miss the switching back and forth. The easy way out of this choice is to stay as George. After all, I've got a whole life built up around being him. I've got the toys, clothes, experiences, etc., that go with being George. I only have a minimal hand-me-down wardrobe and a few days' experiences with being Gloria. The problem is that I just love being Gloria to the point that I yearn for it occasionally throughout the year. These yearnings come on unexpectedly and for no apparent reason. I never desire for George with I'm Gloria. Would that change if I'm Gloria for more than a couple of weeks? I don't know.

Seeing my intense contemplation, she continues, "You don't have to decide right now, Gloria. You have two more weeks until your next chance to decide. Don't stress about it now."

That's easy for her to say. This is a huge decision. I'll be stressed for two weeks!

"Just come back to see me two weeks from now." She instructs me. "Same time, same place."

"Just like that?" I ask.

"Yep," she grins, "Just like that. I can go either way with you. It's your life and your choice. Just let me know what you'd like to do. In the meantime, you might want to go for your run. It is starting to get light out."

With that, she ushers a very confused girl out the door with a smile.

"We'll see you in two weeks, Gloria." She cheerfully waves to me before closing the door, leaving me standing bewildered on her porch. The porch light goes out, and the Halloween noises stop. All is still.

I definitely need my run now.

Later That Morning,

The run didn't help much.

Returning home after five miles of easy running, I wander into the kitchen to rehydrate and eat a little breakfast. Mom and Dad are both in the kitchen reading the paper and drinking coffee.

"How was your run, honey," Mom asks, looking surprised to see me up so early.

"I didn't think you'd be up early this morning," Dad comments without looking up from the paper. "You had a late night last night."

Grabbing a pitcher out of the refrigerator, I pour myself a large glass of orange juice. I also pop a bagel in the toaster and retrieve the raspberry jam.

"The run was great," I reply as I sit down at the table, "But I've got a problem. Maybe you two can help me with it."

"Oh?" Dad asks, looking up from his paper with a raised eyebrow.

"If you had the choice of me staying as a boy or as a girl," I ask them, "what would it be?"

"That's pretty heavy," Dad observes while putting down his newspaper.

"What brought that on?" Mom asks, slightly startled.

"You know Mrs. Jackson down the street?" I ask.

They both nod affirmatively.

"Well," I casually say, "she is a witch. She told me this morning that my condition results from her casting a spell while throwing a temper tantrum when you ran over her familiar, Dad. She's sorry about it–well, mostly anyway. Apparently, this is to be the last year of my condition, and she says I can choose to stay as Gloria or be George for the rest of my life."

"I knew it!" Dad exclaims. "It had to be her, but I don't believe in magic–or at least I didn't before you started your changes. Anyway, it hasn't been all bad–I kind of like you as Gloria once in a while. It's like having another daughter visit occasionally, and I still get to have George."

"Dave!" my mother admonishes by Dad before returning her attention to me. "This is not about what we want, Gloria. It's about what you want. When do you have to decide?"

"Two weeks," I reply, "at the end of this cycle."

My bagel pops up in the toaster, so I retrieve it and spread some jam on it.

"It's going to be a rough two weeks," Dad observes dryly.

"Yeah," I agree as I munch on my bagel. "Can we keep this between ourselves for now? I'd not like a lot of people trying to convince me one way or the other. I just want to observe and think. I would, however, like you to tell me which you think is best."

"Oh, sweetheart," My mother looks kindly at me as she pats my hand on the table. "We won't do that. It's up to you. We will, however, be here to talk to you whenever you like."

"Thanks," I tell both of them.

"So," Dad asks with great curiosity, "Which are you going to choose?"

"I don't know. I have to think about it." I shrug as I finish my bagel and orange juice.

With that, I head upstairs for a shower and to get Jessica moving. We have a lot planned for today.