Six Forty-Five, Part 3.

Author's caution. There is an assault alluded to in this part. Please read with care.

I crossed the street, my new heels clicking. I was a little scared, but in this outfit, I felt much more like a grown-up, and with that extra confidence, I was able to go inside my old elementary.

The door was unlocked, so I let myself in.

“Now where?”

I tried to remember this place, but it was fuzzy. Then I saw a classroom open, and on the teacher’s desk was a pair of heels, not much different from the ones I was now wearing. I went inside, and looked closely at the heels, and then I touched them.

“GNIRRRR”

I looked up, startled at the sound. Then I heard the sounds of children coming into the school.

I was trapped, and dressed like a girl.

A very pretty woman came into the classroom, backwards. She hung a coat on the hanger, and came over to the desk. She took the heels, sat down, and changed into them, putting a pair of runners under the desk.

She didnt say anything to me, even as I stood there frozen.

Then kids started coming into the classroom, all of them moving backwards. None of them seemed to pay any attention to me, but only found their seats.

Then the last kid entered the class, and I recognised who it was even coming in reverse.

It was me.

I tried to get “his” attention, but he walked right through me like I wasn’t even there.

“Okay, so this is the past. They cant see or hear me.” I guessed.

I looked at my younger self as he found his chair. He was twitching, and had a hollow look in his eyes that worried me.

“How is it that I could have looked this bad, and yet nobody seemed to notice?”

Things seemed to blur, and it reminded me of watching a video rewind at super speed. Things then slowed, and I looked again at the boy I used to be.

He looked a hundred times worse.

“Whatever happened must have just happened.”

The bell rang backwards, and the students started to leave the class. Things blurred again, then I saw my younger self sneak into the classroom early, and I realized everything was going forward again.

To my amazement, he went to the teacher’s desk, opened up a large drawer, and pulled out a dress. Under his male clothes he was wearing a bra and panties, and even hose. He slipped into the dress, and lastly put on the heels that had been sitting on the desk.

He had done all this without any emotion at all, almost like he was a robot. Almost as soon as he was done dressing, the teacher came into the classroom, and locked the door behind her.

The look on her face was beyond evil.

I fled the scene, walking right through the closed door, unable to watch.

I went outside, and tried to control my breathing. Then I looked around me, and realized I was back in my no-time place, and I was alone.

So nobody could hear me sobbing.
Once my tears had run out, I tried to put the pieces together of what had happened. Why had the teacher done such a thing? Why had I gone along with it?

There was only one way to know the truth, and that was to go back in there. I got up, went back inside the building, and stopped at a girls bathroom.

Going inside, I cleaned my face and fixed the makeup I had applied at the mall. Once again I was staggered by the girl in the mirror, she looked ... beautiful.

And strong.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

I went back to the classroom, and found a bizarre scene. It looked like a frozen tableau of just after ... what had happened to me. My younger self was back in her male clothes, and the teacher was in the act of unlocking the door.

I looked at my younger self, and had this urge to take this poor child into my arms, and tell her how sorry I was that this horrible thing had happened to her. Then I turned to this ... person who had taken something precious from me.

I wanted to hate her, to hurt her.

“You were the best teacher in our school. A beautiful, bright woman loved by all your students. And yet that wasn’t enough for you? You had to do this, to me?”

Then I looked at her more carefully.

And felt something like pity for her.

“What had happened to you, to make you this way?”

Then I said the hardest three words I had ever said to anyone.

“I forgive you.”

And just like that, I found myself back in my own bed.

The clock said, “Six forty-five.”

Then after what felt like an eternity, it changed to six forty-six.

It was over.

I got up, and changed my routine order of getting dressed, just because I could.

I did my teeth, and went and ate breakfast. I waited for a while, and then went to school. That day, I found myself smiling at people, even the people who bullied me, which freaked them out to no end.

After school, I came home, and helped my step-dad in the garage, even though I didn’t care too much about cars.

When I was about to go to bed, I asked my mother to come into my room for a moment.

Once she was in, I took a breath, and said, “Mom, I’ve got some things to tell you.”

When I finished, she hugged me tight, and promised me she would get me whatever help I needed

“And if it turns out you need to be a girl, I’ll.... I’ll support you.” she said.

“Thanks, mom, love you.”

“Love you too.”

I slept better than I ever had before.