Women use to spend on romance books and romantic stories almost as much money as men use to spend on porn.
Research data from a psychological survey, 2008
The morning comes like usual. We stay at the railway station, on the platform. Alia - Atan, now dressed as a man, goes to work, while I stay here and do my job, changing the lines. Before he gets into the train, we hug. People in the train scream at us, as he gets into the train.
"You didn't kill him!" shouts someone.
"Not yet!" I answer, as I get to the radio, to contact nearby stations.
I know what the miners did say when they seen him with green hair... and seen me here with green hair too. How I like things like that! Things will be like this: "Ana, the killer, is now in love! You've done it, stranger, what nobody ever did". That day I just couldn't wait for Alia - Atan to return and tell me what people say. Probably, they think about some sort of sex orgy, with our bed trembling like at a 9 degree earthquake, the walls starting to crack and the trees starting to fall all around. Men and their too much amount of testosterone... Pathetic.
Of course, nobody knows we are sfenists... and nobody will ever know.
I stay in the railway station, at the radio transmitter. It is a cold winter morning, but still, to make Alia - Atan happy, I wear a knee-long skirt. Two pairs of opaque black tights keep my feet warm enough, together with my booties. Unlike other women, I don't like to wear boots. With one hand, I touch my feet below the knees and feel the smooth fabric, but also the strength on my feet. Before knowing Alia - Atan, I never knew that a pantyhose fetish exists. When it was cold, I used to wear them to keep my feet warm as wearing a skirt. But now, I will do anything I can to make him happy.
He left to the mine dressed as a man, but wearing black opaque tights beneath his trousers. Nobody knows this. We chosen to have the same brand on. What people will notice is only what they can see: that he has green hair and green nails, like me. Well, they will think again that I am doing sorcery on him. "That crazy witch! She is going to kill you!" as many said.
I stay at the railway station quite a long. The train gets up to the mine, then it must return. Soon, the radio will beep, telling me this. I light a cigarette. Feeling the smoke entering my body, is what I like the most. I try to take a sexy double drag, just as I seen on YouTube. When I take the cigarette out, a small cloud of smoke exits my mouth. Then, I take air, to push the smoke deeper inside. And then, I let the smoke out both on my mouth and nostrils. Slow and easy. Then, I take two other drags of smoke. At the second drag, I let the smoke out through my nostrils, then take it into my lungs. And again, after holding it a while inside me, I let it out. Then, again, it is time for me to try other tricks. I can do almost everything, except for smoke rings. That I never managed to do.
The train comes, according to schedule. I wait it to return, then signal the upstream and downstream stations by radio. Then, I give the signal. The old, rusted train, starts its engine and keeps on moving. Now, I have a little time for myself. There usually are no trains until noon.
I go back to house and turn my laptop on. Most girls and young women here like to watch romance movies, TV soaps. But not me. I don't even have a TV set here. I don't have enough money for both an internet and a TV cable connection. Well, with a computer, you can see almost all TV programs anytime you want to see them.
I light another cigarette, trying to search something on this laptop, even if I don't exactly know what. I look at my feet, encased in this double layer of tights. I cannot see my toes or any aspect of my skin. No light passes through these layers and what little does, has no way to go back out. I blow some smoke towards them. "Here you are, here's the nicotine you so strongly need", I say to my feet. Time to take a big inhale, to give them more nicotine.
For a few seconds, I keep on thinking how nicotine moves through my arteries and veins, how it gets to every single cell of my body. Even in the roots of my hair, some should go. If someone will take a sample of hair to a laboratory, they will notice the presence of nicotine in it.
Thinking about hair, this is a long dream came true. How long I dreamed of having green hair! And now, I really have it!
There is a South American TV romance series, 'soaps' as people also call them. I know my sister Cemis talks with passion about it. With my computer, I should be able to see it, only that it will be in Spanish or Portuguese, which, like any Latin - origin language, is impossible for me to understand. I find it very easy and watch a bit. At least, I should have an image about what this is about. At least, I will have something to talk with Cemis when she comes here or when I go to her.
What should I say? All characters in the movie share so much luxury. They live in a luxurious building, they have servants, they all have excellent clothes, all characters look good, but they seem not to have anything common with daily life. Secret relationships, mistresses, lovers, extra-marriage relationships... This is what all this is about? The owner of this house (oh, he looks good!) is in an extra-marriage relation with a servant woman, which is doing all this to gain money to rise her children. His wife knows and she has a relationship with a servant man that is more a delinquent and is with her only for money. That delinquent also has a lover, a beautiful poor girl, with his status. And two girls in this movie are fighting for the same extra-marriage lover! All this makes non-sense to me!
"Men and their extreme doses of testosterone... They should be castrated!" says my shadow.
I don't say that I don't find a bit interesting, but only a bit. That violent incident that made me a sfenist transformed me completely. At that time, I also liked this kind of staff. Now, not anymore. Whenever it comes for relationships, I am happy to see the normal form: a man and a woman, not extra-marriage or other staff. Life is anyway too complicated and too harsh.
How much hate I had all these years for men! I think about this, while filling my lungs with smoke again and again and again. There was a time I wanted to kill them all! There was a time when I became more a man then a woman, with the desire to show all guys that women are superior. At that time, I never worn a skirt. It was like if I was trying to become a man. But then, I started to be more and more feminine. More pretty, more sexy, always wearing a dress or a skirt. All this, fueled from the hate growing inside me.
As I inhale some more smoke, my shadow starts reciting something:
It’s all up to you
No one lives forever
Been burn in the hell
By all those pigs out there
When I was a child, there were some TV anime series, named Black Lagoon . There, a main character is a woman named Revy. She was a model for me. She was a cute and polite girl until a policeman beaten and raped her. From that moment, she became a dark angel. I was amazed by her black humor. In the anime, people said she has the eyes of a bloodhound. Well, my psychologist said I have the eyes of a wounded dog. Not to mention, she is also smoking a lot. From that day ever, she was a model for me to follow. Well, there is no way I will end-up wearing guns and shoot people around, but at least I was no longer that cute and polite girl that used to be. Be independent, not get married, not be dominated by a man. Never!
Is it possible that Revy was made, inspired from a real sfenist? I asked my psychologist and she said me this:
"Wherever I went, whenever I sent psychological tests throughout the world, I didn't find a detailed research about sfenists. People seem just to try force them into the mainstream population. However, in every place and every level of civilization, I found sfenists. You just have to ask the correct questions and you will find them".
It’s always been hell
From when I was born
They make me violate them
No matter who they are
These verses are from the opening theme of Black Lagoon. Didn't I feel like this? And how many times? How many times I smashed guys? How many times I answered them with anger, with ugly words? All those infidels. They should be castrated!
No man will ever touch me!
You made a mess
For Christ sake, this rotten world
Shit out of luck
Go with my vision...
I have a big smile on my face. I take another drag from my cigarette, the last one. I put it on an ashtray. It is filled already. Last night, I stayed until late with Alia - Atan, talking and smoking. He loves to speak about Astronomy. That is his hobby. And he got me in with this. How could Venus be terraformed? And about Betelgeuse, a giant star not far away from us, who is on the death rope... and soon might go supernova.
I never thought any guy will get to my heart. But what is he? A man, or a woman? Something between. My native language has no words for transgender, sissy, ladyboy, shemale or anything similar. But it does have the word sfenist . As for now, he never tried to harm me in any way. He never tried to seduce me, but it is clear that he loves me. A clean love, without any passion. It was love at first sight. Instant. It was a clean love, without any flesh desire.
I look at my feet, covered in double layers of tights. When he touches my feet, I feel nothing against. When I look into his eyes, I feel no sinful approach. It is all so different. I dare to say that I love him. For the first time in my life, I love someone. It is completely different. Not even a single kiss, except when we hug. That happens when we meet and when we he takes the train. We sleep in the same room, but like if we were cousins.
I start to become a copy of himself. It is something working deep inside me. His passion for Astronomy got inside me. A woman with a passion that exists for men? Why not? This is what I notice every day: that we tend to copy each one. We tend to use the same words, to share the same moves, to think the same... All this happens automatically. We are not trying this, it just happens. And with every day, I start to feel an ever growing affection. We tend to be so careful about each one's pleasures.
Well, time to do some work! Time to start washing the clothes. I go to the kitchen and heat some water in a metal pot. As I start manual washing, I start to remember something. The place where Alia - Atan lives. His parents. I remember the cry in their eyes. Oh mine! Where should they be now? I feel like I see them with my mind. They are in a room, they kneel in face of an icon and pray. They have an open book in front of them, while tears flow from their eyes. This is too much for me! How much pain I delivered to them? Alia - Atan assured me that there is no way we could possibly solve this problem. They will never accept what is happening. He told me about a guy who married a woman that his parents never accepted (because she was poor). His parents just thrown them away... and they slept for two years in a stable. Then, they had a child. His parents accepted them to move in their house, but almost every day they used to beat her. After other 3 years, she lost two pregnancies and ended-up with diabetes.
I am not letting this to happen with me!
The strangest of all, is that, in that place of the Earth, parents think this is the correct way. They never listen to their children and force them to follow what they think is good in life. Ironically, this is their strong love for their children. But the suffering I seen in his parents' eyes makes me cry. They don't realize they have destroyed their child with that much authority. And they will never accept it. He had to run here, to the end of the world, to save and rebuild his life.
I will do anything it takes to make him happy and to help him.
But what to do with his parents? I imagine them, now, staying in front of an icon and praying. Their eyes are red of crying and there is no hope for him to return. I just have to live with this. He is suffering too. I see it in his eyes. Only that I take the hit harder then he does. There is another thing. I always know when someone is praying about me. I feel it. It is like I can see and hear it. And I feel it right now. As I wash the woman dress he uses... Only if they knew he wears a woman dress in house... that would be enough for them to come here and grab him back.
After I finish washing the clothes, I put them out on a wire, to dry-up. I go to the house and open my laptop again, also lighting a cigarette. I need something else, something to distract my mind. And I search about the coal train, filled of cigarettes. Did protests arise in the Land Of Dictators? What news do we have?
Shocking! None of this actually happens. In the Land Of Dictators, everything looks normal. I even find an interview with San Marino, the godfather of cigarette mafia there. He says it short:
"I didn't do it, even if those were my cigarettes. I have no idea who did it, but look at what is happening! I am proud to see this! This shows the world that Democracy sucks and Communism is the best form of social organization. I don't care about lost money, as long as it is for the noble cause of Socialism".
What happened? In the land where Alia - Atan came from, huge political tensions have arose. The prime minister was asked to handle his demission. Many important people from security, police and customs had to write their demission, while others were arrested. Now, there is a strong pressure against justice departments, which cannot resist the power for long. That land is the gateway to Civilized World. Now, I see it all. The real reason behind what Stromboli did, was to weaken the border, to smuggle more easy contraband cigarettes. At least, this is how things look like.
Now, if anyone finds out that it was us who placed all those cigarettes on top of the train, our lives will be doomed. So, we have to keep it all quiet and not spend the money from Stromboli soon.
After I finish the cigarette, I return to the kitchen, to start cooking something. Then, the radio beeps. A train is coming. Soon, another beep: a second train is heading towards us. Two trains will reach this station, so I need to prepare it. I go and change the switches: one train will enter line 1, the other on line 2. Soon after they arrive, I will have to run to the end of the line, to change switches back, so that each train will continue on its way. Then, I have to signal by radio upstream and downstream stations. This is why small stations like mine are kept alive: to handle two trains passing in opposite directions.
Well, everything goes fine. Evening comes. Alia - Atan will come soon, with the evening train. I prepared everything for him. The food is in the kitchen, on plates, just hot enough to be eaten. He has clothes to change, in the house, to become a woman again. The fire is burning both in the house and the kitchen, just to be comfortable.
And he comes, with the evening train. He jumps from the train and we hug on the platform. Immediately, I do my job, letting the train pass, as we return to the house. He goes to the house and changes: a yellow women sweater and a black skirt. He takes a second pair of black tights on, to be like me, with white platform plastic slippers. Now, only his face looks like a man, the rest is a woman. Nobody would guess. We eat. I made a soup with a loot of cheese and small slices of apple (my own invention, never found it in a cook book), then we eat something with potatoes, carrots and other vegetables, with sauce and long, slim slices of smoked cheese above it. It also contains natural butter and some egg. As desert, I made him cookies, covered with a thick powder of sugar. And yes, as usual, we have milk. He likes to add some honey in milk, so I placed him a small cup with honey. And like always, I ask him what does he think about the food. Should I improve something? At first, he didn't say anything, but now he gives me little ideas.
Then, he helps me wash the dishes. He is always very careful what he can do to help. And then, we go to the house. We sit on the bed and place the laptop on a pillow in front of us, like usually.
We both light a cigarette from the same lighter, a thing that we never did before, but now it just happened this way. I watch how he takes a hungry drag of smoke, then blows it up in the room. I take then a single inhale with two drags and blow the smoke towards him. Then, he takes some smoke in his mouth and blows it towards me.
This kind of blowing smoke one to the other, are our sfenist way of kissing. Well, not touching flesh, but somehow, they have more affection in it then a real kiss would have.
"The planet is covered with dark clouds" he says, showing his double-layered pantyhose on his feet "and a volcano is erupting", showing his cigarette.
"And on a sister planet, things are going just the same", I say, moving my hand with the burning cigarette on my feet.
"This planet is being transformed both from the inside and from the outside", se says again.
As we stay, our toes can touch one to each other. And we do touch.
"Continents are moving", I say, laughing.
He tries to laugh, but just when he was smoking. It all ends with a cough.
"That was a tsunami", he says.
I laugh at this.
"Maybe your volcanoes are more eruptive then mine", I say, blowing a small cloud of smoke in the air.
"Or maybe your atmosphere is denser and could handle the eruption", he says, playing with one hand on his feet.
"Next time, I will wear 3 layers", I say, with a smile. "Or add the leggings on top of everything".
"That will be like the atmosphere of Jupiter", he says, looking at my feet.
"Will that resist an imminent volcanic explosion?" I ask him.
"I don't know, Nicotiana. Everything is possible with you".
"This thing will feed the volcanoes", I say, taking my cigarette close to his face.
He takes a drag of my cigarette. I see him. Then, he keeps the smoke inside him and blows it away, up. It is the first time this happens.
"Interplanetary volcanism!" I say.
He takes his cigarette close to my mouth and I grab it with my lips and take a lot of smoke. I let the smoke out slowly, through my mouth and my nostrils.
"Your volcanoes are erupting. Mine, just produce a strain of lava", I answer with a smile.
Then, we open the laptop and watch for news. This is more an automated response from both of us. We've been too far. There is a 'something' that started the alarm in our brains, that we need to stop. A romance is acceptable, sexy staff no. Teasing is not for us. At least not yet. Being a sfenist is like a fight between two forces. It is just like the equilibrium inside a star, between the mass of the star that tries to squeeze all matter into a black hole or a neutron star and the huge energy produced by nuclear fusion in the core, which wants to rip the star apart. These two forces are incredibly powerful. Somehow, these things are common in every relationship, in a way or another. But there is a strong difference.
A sfenist couple is like a red dwarf star. Their light is between a thousand and a million times weaker then our Sun. They are small and go unnoticed, invisible with naked eye. But they last for trillions of years. A classic relationship looks like the Sun. It produces far more energy. The struggle between the two forces, between gravity and nuclear fusion, is a real battle inside the Sun. And it will last far shorter, ending with a red giant phase, that will blow away atmospheres of all planets. But there are other, more bright stars. I can compare them with other, most known sexual minorities. When gay people or swingers or people that practice BDSM are in public, everyone notices them. I know that partners change much more frequent in such relations. Their stars burn energy like crazy.
Well, I am happy with this little flame we have.
I show him the news about that train filled with cigarettes: the demission of several officials, others being arrested. Also, I show him how quiet is the Land Of Dictators.
"The place where I grew, has nothing to do with me now. For me, everyone and everything there are dead. The only thing I wish is to get your citizenship and live here for the rest of my life", he says.
"I understand you", I say. "And I will do whatever I can to help you".
He looks with some widely-opened eyes.
"Are you willing to help me get citizenship?" he asks, almost not believing this.
"Yes, Alia", I say.
But the next second, I realize. To get citizenship, the most easy way is to get married. And he can do this only with me. I realize what I just said. But, no matter how scary might seem, it is the only way. It is too early for this, but... whatever.
"You realize how such a thing is done"... he says, looking down and only with half his voice.
"I know", I say. "But, as I said, I will help you".
"Nicotiana, you don't have to do this", he says.
I realize how dependent he is from my protection. He can stay up to 4 months here. Then, he needs to go back and require a new set of paperwork. And this needs to be done each four months. And again, he might reach his parents. And what would that lead to?
"I know what is the only easy way to get citizenship", I say. "Alia, just wait for the holydays to pass and we do the paperwork. I think you know what that way is", I say, looking at the cigarette in his hand.
"I know... mmm... the word... to be together".
I see so much tension in his eyes. Time to break the ice!
"Marriage? Why not?" I answer with a smile.
"If you agree with this, I am happy about. But, Nicotiana, is it not too early? I mean, we are together for about one month".
"It is just a formal marriage, to get citizenship, not that we are going to have a wedding and a drinking orgy and a sexual orgy. It is only a piece of paper that will help you get citizenship and nothing more. And it should not be anything more then a sheet of paper", I say, loud and clear.
"What will your parents say?" he asks me.
"That it is a piece of paper, in order to help you", I answer quick.
"What about my parents?" he asks.
"Do you want them to find out?" I ask him.
"No, they will never accept", he answers.
"Then, we will not tell them anything", I say with a firm accent.
"That is what got me scared", he says. "You realize what they would do if we get married? Nicotiana, I mean, they will come here, grab me back and all my new life will end".
"I realize it, Alia. As well, I realize how much they love you and how much pain we placed in their hearts".
"Please, don't talk about that", he says. "I know it, but there is nothing I can do. As the psychologist said, it is much better if we let the things as they are, no matter how much pain it gives to all of us. So, I just leave them behind. I try to forget them and consider my former homeland dead. Nuked! The former me has died, the new me is still an infant, but is growing. And when I will have completely grown, I will look back to them and see if any communication channel can be opened".
"I know it is painful, but that is the best way", I say to him.
He uses my laptop to get to his mail address. He has messages from his parents, but he deletes them all. Then, he goes to his Facebook page and deletes it.
"Don't take such drastic actions", I say. "Maybe one day you want to take back something from what you had".
"Nicotiana, you know something? I never wrote a single word and never checked anything on Facebook since I came here. I didn't want anyone to know about my new life. And when I will have citizenship, I will change my name. So, I will be a new person".
"I ask you again, Alia. Are you sure? You are making a huge step and there might be no coming back. Life is hard here. People are shot on the streets. You know well. If anything bad happens, no police will come here to help you".
"The guy that destroyed my life was a police officer!" he screams with much anger. "I went to the police and told them, but they were laughing at me and saying they will accuse me of calumny! So, I had to cancel my accusations, to avoid a worse trial!"
I look and see the eyes of a bloodhound. He looks like ready to kill with no mercy.
"Then, a few years later", he says, "my parents opened a small shop there, in the village. The leader of the Gipsy people in the area, asked for a protection fee and they gave him every month. But, in one week, they didn't have the money when he came. When I was selling in the shop, the Gipsy came in and smashed everything. I got paralyzed for a few moments. You realize, Nicotiana? Seven fat guys enter in your shop, take everything they want and break glasses around? After that, I started laughing for a few minutes, then crying. When I realized what is happening, I took the first minibus and ran and slept a night far away into a railway station. And you know what police said? That the Gipsy are protected and we should better shut-up if we don't want to be charged with a fee for racial discrimination. At the University, police found me learning in parks and in subway, because I really had no quiet place to learn. And they took me and bitten me like a delinquent".
At least that infidel who destroyed my life is now dead. A few days later, he tried to abuse another girl in Almathea, but his father caught him and killed him. The body was found in the river days later. But that police guy, he might still be alive out there, destroying lives of other innocent people.
I try to put my hands on his shoulders and slowly massage his hands. Then, I move one hand to his back. Suddenly, he has a strong, violent move.
"Never touch the upper of my back", he says. "There, that sun of a bitch kept his knife. Nobody can touch me there".
He is like me! I also don't accept anyone to touch my neck, but in the front.
"The first day you are free from work, we go to Jupiter and see what we need. As soon as possible, we get married, so you will have citizenship. And when that happens, I want my name to be changed into Nicotiana Ana, once and for all!"
We stay silent for a few minutes. Then, we decide to watch a TV show on the laptop. And then, we go to sleep.
As the 3 AM train comes, I run to the station, like always. As I wait for the train, I keep on thinking about what a strange world Alia - Atan comes from. Where is the civilization? People might be rich, but what good is that for? I enjoyed nothing in the civilized world. Nothing! Life is far better here.
Also, I have a few images from that soap-syrup TV series that my sister Cemis likes to watch. All those extra-marriage relationships, all the drama of each one... Why do we need drama, when this world is so filled of pain? Isn't the life better here in the mountains? Isn't it better to have a 100 $ salary for a 24/7 work on the railway then to be the mistress of a very rich husband or the lover of a very rich wife?
How much suffering in this rotten world...
