Don't Go in There

A Work of Fiction

Tyson wished for his own pair of breasts. This desire was kindled by anime and puberty. Tyson stared at his younger sister, Alicia, with envy. She had her own pair of breasts. Alicia was in the full bloom of youth. Tyson was quite drunk on his own youth. So hard to smell the flowers through the haze. Easier to stare at the breasts. Tyson wanted the more he stared.

              It was easier to have his own pair. As it was easier to stroke himself. Save him the trouble of meeting a girl. The internet thought this made him trans. Reddit had diagnosed him thus. All Tyson knew was that he wanted breasts. It was more than just tactile pleasure. Though the bouncing was a selling point. Tyson desired a girl’s flesh. School, church, and TV taught Tyson this was rape. That was the word they used.

              Tyson loved little Alicia.  The idea of anyone harming her, let alone raping her, disgusted him to his core. Then Tyson desired flesh. The youthful spring fever of lust. Tyson was taught to be disgusted. So, Tyson went inwards. He looked to his own flesh. An instant success that lacked intimacy. He was disgusting, but this was natural.

              Tyson resented his own disgust. He longed to be desired. He wanted closeness and warmth. He would not face this absence. Afterall, he wasn’t hurting anyone. So, he closed himself off even more in the drunken haze of isolation and youth.

              Tyson looked at all the beautiful women. They were clean and organized. Nothing at all like disgusting Tyson with a monster’s soul. Tyson longed to be with them. Perhaps, even to be one of them. He certainly wanted the breasts.

              Tyson was eating lunch in his high school cafeteria. He was eating by himself. Tyson didn’t belong to any clique. He often ate next to the weird girls. He did not eat with them. Tyson ate alone.

              The girls were shrieking in forced whispers. An audible wave of highs and lows. Punctuated by shushes and giggles. The sound drove Tyson mad. The sound of a million little sisters.

              Then Tyson heard something, “…I hear she even has a potion that can change your…”

              “What was that?” Tyson asked the flock of girls.

              A girl in a black dress with black nail polish answered, “Mama Doc on 39th street, she’s a witch doctor, she has a potion that can change your sex.”

              “Is that something you’d be interested in?” A girl in a band T-shirt asked.

              “Don’t tease him Stacey,” the first girl said, “it’s not our place to judge.”

              “What if I am?” Tyson sneered at Stacey.

              “Really?” said all three in unison.

              Tyson had never been fawned over. The girls told him he’d be a pretty girl. Each one said it in their own words. It all amounted to the same thing. Tyson would be such a pretty girl.

              “I think you should keep your name,” said one.

              “Don’t tell him what to do Lacey,” said the other.

              “I think Tyson is such a good name…for a girl,” replied Lacey.

              “I think that’s her decision,” spoke the girl in black. Tyson loved the way this girl pronounced her. She made eyes with him as she said it. It made him want to be a girl with them.

              “Please tell me how to find Mama Doc,” Tyson begged.

              “After school my sweet,” spoke the girl in black.

              “Don’t tease him Tracey!” squealed her friends.

              After class the quartet made their way downtown. Mama Doc’s shop was rickety and old. It stood out like a sore thumb. The neighborhood had been developed. The voodoo shop was between a Starbucks and a Chipotle.

              “Well aren’t you going in?” Asked Tracey.

              “I thought you knew Mama Doc?” asked Tyson.

              “I don’t go in, I admire from afar,” responded Tracey.

              “Besides, she’s not stupid,” said Stacey over her shoulder.

              “Yeah we’ve all heard the stories,” said the other.

              “You were telling the stories,” said Tyson.

              “That’s different!” Yelled all three.

              “Tyson?” Tyson heard a voice from behind. He was surprised to see Alicia.

              “What are you doing here?” Alicia asked at the same time as the weird girls were asking her the same question.

              “Sorry Tyson,” Tracey put a reassuring hand on his arm, “but she’s a prep.”

              The three girls walked away from the siblings. Their ballet slippers and hips swaying in sync. The sight turned Tyson’s insides green.

              Alicia repeated her question.

              “I might ask you the same,” Tyson returned.

              “I’m always here on Thursdays, mom drops me off for piano,” Alicia answered, “What are you doing with the weird girls? You look like you saw a ghost.”

              “I’ve been going through a lot,” said Tyson.

              “I can tell,” said Alicia, “you’re so quiet.”

              “I think I’m trans,” said Tyson.

              Alicia was quiet.

              “Oh god, you hate me,” Tyson sobbed.

              “Hey, I could never hate you, we’ll figure this out,” Alicia hugged her brother, “but Tyson, this is huge.”

              “I know,” Tyson returned the embrace.

              “Do mom and dad know?” Asked Alicia.

              “Just you,” Tyson sniffed.

              “We’ll tell them together,” said Alicia.

              “I have to do something first,” Tyson looked up the steps of the Voodoo shop.

              “Not in there?” Alicia couldn’t hide her alarm.

              “I have to,” said Tyson.

              “But that’s Mama Doc’s place!” Alicia couldn’t hide her panic.

              “I have to see!” Tyson yelled. He couldn’t hide the frustration.

              Tyson marched up the front steps. The screen door swung open. Tyson entered the hazy lounge of a dingy shop. There were bones as decoration. On the walls, and from the ceiling. Incense smoke filled the candlelight of the room. An old blind black woman stood behind the counter. She was wrinkled and shriveled up small. Sunglasses sat upon her tiny nose and covered most of her face. White dreadlocks fell down past her shoulders.

              “Oui?” asked the tiny crone.

              “I was told you have a potion,” said Tyson.

              “Oui, lots,” the old crone cackled.

              “One that can…” Tyson paused. This was the moment. The thought never crossed his mind to ask the witch doctor for good health, or lots of money. Other people had asked for these things, and Mama Doc had provided. Everyone knew the stories about her, and the horrible rumors as well. The truth is that people were not the same as before they had become her customers. This frightened people.

              Tyson swallowed his fear and finished his question, “I want to be a woman,” now it was out in the open.

              “Ah oui, mi fille, tu vis en rose,” Mama Doc chortled as she shuffled through her medical cabinet. She produced a vial and said, “magnifique,” and as she handed it to Tyson, she kissed her fingers. No sooner had she done this than she said, “fifty bucks!” She scratched those fingers together.

              Tyson produced his wallet. He only had a hundred-dollar bill. A present from his grandparents.

              “I can’t break that,” said Mama Doc.

              “Keep the change,” Tyson put the money in her hand.

              Mama Doc put the crisp bill somewhere in her bosom. Tyson didn’t care, what he had in his hands was worth any price.

              “One last thing,” Mama Doc said as Tyson made for the door.

              “Doute is bad. No? You have to believe you’re a woman for the spell to work. Doute will spoil the spell,” Mama Doc stroked a cat that had materialized.

              “I don’t have any doubts. I’m as trans as the day is long,” said Tyson.

              “Bien sur,” cackled Mama Doc.

              Her laughter haunted Tyson. It stayed with him down the rickety steps and onto the street where Alicia waited for him. Tyson had never seen his sister look so sad.

              That night Alicia knocked on her brother’s door. She found him sitting at his desk. He was staring at the tiny vial.

              “Are you going to take it?” Alicia asked.

              “You don’t know what it’s like,” said Tyson.

              “What don’t I know?” Alicia asked.

              “To feel so ugly,” said Tyson.

              “Every girl knows that!” Said Alicia.

              “Not this ugly,” there were tears in Tyson’s eyes.

              “Are you going to tell mom and dad first?” Asked Alicia.

              “They’d try and talk me out of it,” Tyson replied.

              “Maybe there’s a reason for that,” Alicia sighed.

              “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Tyson couldn’t hide the pleading in his voice.

              “Well do it then, I’m not stopping you,” now there were tears in Alicia’s eyes.

              Tyson broke the top off the vial and downed its contents. He asked for a moment of privacy. He wanted to be alone with a mirror while he underwent the process. He undressed and could feel the effects of the potion as the air brushed his naked skin. It came on like a liquor. Thick and hazy. He could feel the blood flow to his loins. The beginnings of an erection. But now inside, warm, and wet. His chocolate skin smoothed as his fat began to bubble. First his thighs, then buttocks, and finally chest. A magnificent chest. A set of mountainous heaving breasts. Tyson admired himself in the mirror, his new body was perfect. His thinning fingers searched the damp of his nether region seeking pleasure. They probed inside deeper and deeper.  Tyson soaked himself in catharsis. He did not notice that he was still growing. Still developing. Still bubbling.

              Now his belly, still more his buttocks, and now those breasts became heavier, and heavier. Tyson screamed his new pitiful girl’s scream. It was all wrong, it wasn’t his voice. Tyson felt disgusted with himself just to hear it. He tried to take a step. His leg melted in a heaving pile of bulging goo. Tyson couldn’t feel any bone. It just wasn’t there.

              Alicia heard a strange sound. It sounded like a scream. She didn’t recognize the voice. She waited for several seconds. She couldn’t open the door. Dread stayed her hand. What had happened to her poor brother? What had he done to himself? A loud thud prompted a quicker response. She had to see if he was alright. What Alicia saw behind the door made her scream. The heaving, bulging, bubbling mass resembled nothing like a human body. Somewhere in the sickening chaos where the remains of a face. An eyeball here, the cavernous ruin of nostrils there, and the wide flapping jaws of a useless mouth. The flapping wet thing lisped out something that sounded like, “run.” But all that came out was a long miserable groan.

              Tyson and Alicia’s parent heard a commotion upstairs. They went to investigate. They found their daughter baring the entrance to their son’s room. Her back rested on the shut door, and both hands were clasping the door frame. She was shaking and crying.

              “Don’t go in there,” Alicia started to say. The door behind her creaked with strain before it burst. Alicia was thrown into the wall with the door. A flood of brown flesh spilled into the hallway. Alicia tried to crawl away. Her mother and father tried to help. The bulging, throbbing mass gobbled Alicia up. The last thing her parents saw was their daughter’s hand disappear under its wake. They cried in desperate panic as the blob enveloped them as well. Filling their mouths with a smothering cover.

              The mass grew and grew before it broke the frame of the house. Spilling out into the street, devouring all in its path.