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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Erich's Secret - 1. Chapter 1

This story can also be found on my personal website.

Erich's Secret

Erich curled up on her stomach in the eerily silent parking garage. She had been crying nonstop for the past five minutes, ever since her attacker kicked her in the stomach, pulled out several strands of her long, auburn hair, and then quickly ran off into the darkness.

What followed before had to be the worst ten minutes of her life. It all happened after she left her husband's office party, after only being there for an hour. The party was suppose to last until two in the morning, but after awhile Erich became sick of the petty, silly gossip that was floating around, and decided to storm out in disgust. At first she believed she was doing the right thing, but now she wasn't so sure.

Since the surgery, Erich believed she knew everything there was to be about being a girl. She achieved the hour glass figure, the perfect voice, a closet full of beautiful, retro clothes, and most important she had a wonderful and very supportive husband, who had been there for her since she decided to make the transformation three years ago. No one around knew that she use to be a man, except for her friends, and close family. It was very confusing about how the person who just attacked her found out.

Earlier that day, her husband Paul, had dropped off their adopted three-year-old daughter, Stella, at Erich's fathers house for the weekend. Stella was in fact her sister's child, whom Erich had been granted full custody of after the accident, but that was another thing that she didn't like to think about. After that, Paul's next stop was to the Atlanta Airport to board a plane to New York for a business trip. This was his first year at the company, and he was going to miss the annual December twentieth Christmas party, but Erich was going to go in her husband's place. The great thing was that no one there knew that only six months earlier she was still considered a man. She did have to explain her name to everyone though. After deciding to undergo the surgery, her father, Peter, became very upset about a possible name change. Erich was named after her grandfather, who died tragically in an accident one hour after she was born. When news came that Peter had a son, he promptly named him after his own father. Because of that simple fact, Erich refused to re-name herself, Erica. Once she explained to everyone at the party that she had been named after her grandfather (she didn't mention that she had been born a boy), they quietly accepted it.

Two things then happened that Erich never expected. The first took place while she was re-applying her make-up in the ladies room. The ridiculous, gossip that went on in powder rooms was something quite new to her.

Sitting down on one of the rose-colored chairs, in front of the vanity, Erich pulled out a very expensive cosmetic bag from her new LV purse. She could feel all the other women staring at her in the mirror. Her first thought was, do they know?

Quickly she ran her fingers along the side of her face, searching for any traces of hair. Her electrolysis appointments were going along smoothly, but you could never tell.

Satisfied that there was nothing, Erich slowly raised her gaze. What are those damn women looking at, she thought.

She caught the eye of a toothpick, thin woman sitting beside her. Once she realized that Erich was making eye contact, the haughty woman smiled, and asked quite rudely, Is that the new LV purse?

Erich frowned, and looked down at the handbag Paul had bought her last week. He had given it to her on the six month anniversary of the surgery, along with a box of expensive chocolate, and a bottle of diet coke. After playfully slapping him for the unusual gift, she realized he was right; the estrogen pills that she was constantly taking were making her crave this stuff. Not the purse, just the food.

Returning to the uptight lady sitting next to her, Erich smiled, and replied, my husband, Paul Sella gave it to me.

Smiling a Cheshire grin, the lady then asked in a fake voice, "Was there a special occasion?"

This was quite new to Erich. Just a year ago she was still being forced to use the men's restroom in public, and they never asked each other stupid questions. In fact the sole purpose was to get in, and out without saying anything at all.

Erich looked at the woman, and realized she had the attention of all the other ladies at the vanity. This was way too much!

There really wasn't an occasion, except that my husband just loves me, and decided to show it by buying me a twenty-thousand dollar handbag.

The room was dead silent, as Erich packed up her stuff. She had been a woman long enough to realize that it meant, Hurry up and leave so we can talk shit about you behind your back, because were too cowardly to do it in front of your face.

With one final deadly glare directed at the women, Erich stood up from the chair, grabbed her purse, and stalked out of the powder room.

Hurrying back to the party, she immediately ordered a martini. Taking deep, calming breaths, Erich began wandering around the room. Everything seemed normal. She made small chatter with some other women. They loved her beaded, Chanel dress, and velvet pumps. The men talked to her about Paul. It seemed he was one of the hardest workers at the office, and it was a delight to have him. Things were looking up for her.

Almost an hour into the party, Erich began to worry about Stella. Her father, and his boyfriend were taking care of her, but something just didn't feel right.

About five years ago, when Erich was still a senior in high school, her father's secret had been revealed in the most unusual, yet traumatic way. It happened the night he unexpectedly returned home from the grocery store with Robert, and caught her (then a boy), and Paul making out on the living room couch. Chaos soon followed as her father yelled, cussed, and then slapped her across the face. Robert immediately took charge. He ordered Paul to go upstairs, and pack a suitcase for Erich. He was taking her to his house until Peter calmed down. It was quite confusing because Robert didn’t seem to mind that he had just caught his only child making out with his best friend’s son. Later on he sat the two of them down for a long talk. He told both of the boys that it was normal for them to do what they did, and he accepted it. Paul told his father that he was bisexual. Erich refused to say anything, she didn’t want to mention that she found herself to be straight, and believed herself to be a girl instead of a boy.

What soon followed in the days to come was probably the worst day of their lives; Erich’s sister, Georgina, had been rushed to the hospital, it seems she had tried to break-up with her boyfriend, but he turned on her, shot her in the head and them himself. Her boyfriend was pronounced dead, but surprisingly Georgina survived, and to this day is still in a coma. All of this happened after their father divorced their mother. Exhausted by the confusion, the lies, and the downwards spiral, Peter revealed his secret, he was gay. Turns out he only married their mother because she had got pregnant with Erich. Now that the evil woman had finally left after eighteen years of making their lives miserable, Peter decided to get back together with his boyfriend, and his best friend, Robert. It seems the two of them had secretly dated all throughout high school in the seventies. Erich felt like she was in a soap opera, a very well acted one at that. Both she and Paul became accustom to seeing their father’s dating each other, then finally Robert moving in with Peter.

While all of this was going on, Erich and Paul received custody of Georgina’s newborn daughter, Stella. After moving to Atlanta, she decided it was time to drastically change her life. They had left their small town, they had a baby, and their lives were going great. At first Erich didn’t tell her father that she was seeing a doctor for a sex change; he was still in shock from Georgina’s accident, she didn’t want to upset him anymore than necessary. Finally the day came when she couldn’t hide it any longer. Pulling on an old sweatshirt, and baggy jeans to hide her new figure, Erich drove to her father’s house. She knew Robert was at work, and Stella was at daycare, this was a perfect opportunity. Hours later over lunch, she told him everything. Expecting her father to slap her across the face like last time, Erich pulled back from the dining room table. There was a moment of dead silence, as she watched her father close his eyes, take a deep breath, and announce, “I knew this day would come.”

Blinking in confusion, she listened to her father as he explained that all throughout the pregnancy he had dreamed that Erich was going to be born a girl, so imagine his surprise when a son was born. Then there was that time when Erich’s secret was revealed five years ago. Peter confessed that he knew then that something like this would happen, and accepted it.

Returning from her day dream, Erich sighed in happiness. She was lucky to have a supportive father, step-father, and husband.

Once again, she walked up to the bar, and ordered a martini, but this time she felt a strange presence; it was as if someone was watching her. Across the room she noticed the three “swans” from the ladies room. They were huddled in a little corner with a few party guests. One of them turned, looked down at Erich’s feet, and then returned to chatter hysterically.

Back when Erich was a teenager, way before the surgery, she learned the importance of shoes on a woman from the glossy, fashion magazines she read religiously. Shoes on a female showed the world what kind of class you were, and the first thing a woman usually did was glance down at another’s feet to determine if she had “It.” Erich thought this was extremely silly as a boy, and even sillier as a girl.

Rolling her eyes, Erich cautiously looked down at her feet. Her three-inch heels were from one of the most expensive stores in Atlanta, not that it mattered to her.

Confusion swam through her head, and then she understood that they weren’t staring at her shoes, they were staring at her enormous feet; one of the few things that surgery couldn’t fix.
Cursing to herself, Erich slammed down her drink, went over to the wall, grabbed her coat off the rack, and began to leave. The hell with them!

The elevator doors were located on the far side of the room, and as she made her way through the thick crowd, she overheard many rude things directed at her:

“…husband has worked here only a year, and can afford to buy her a new Louis…”

“…the family is rich anyway. I heard her father owns some real estate company in one of those small, mountain towns…”

“She had three drinks! I counted! Is she a…”

“…enormous feet! Her mother must be an Amazon…”

Erich finally made it to the elevator, and pressed the button just as the last insult was hurled her way.

“You know she was born a man. It’s true because I went to high school with a friend of his, or should I say her!”

Instantly, Erich’s body felt icy cold. It was like someone was jabbing her with needles. Tightness filled her stomach as the doors slid open, and she stumbled through them.

Erich did have to face the room one last time, as she turned around to hit the button for the parking garage. She saw that almost everyone at the party was staring at her in disbelief, and disgust.

The head “swan” shot her a triumphant look, and hissed quite loudly as the doors began to close, “She was in the ladies room with us! I feel so…”

Immediately, Erich began to rummage through her purse. Upon locating her cell, she quickly dialed Paul's number, and to her disbelief was put through to the answering machine.

Composing herself so she wouldn’t cry, Erich calmly explained her situation. She had been forced to leave the party because someone there knew her secret, and he had told everyone. With a final, “Call me as soon as you can,” Erich shut off the phone just as the elevator came to a sudden stop. Quickly, she hurried through the open doors, and into the deserted parking lot. The night air was eerily silent, and very cold. Pulling her cashmere coat snugly around her, Erich hurried to her Mercedes across the garage.

Halfway there she heard a clicking noise behind her. Assuming it was just a car, she hurried along without a backward glance. When her own car came in sight, Erich was suddenly hit hard from behind. As she tumbled to the ground, she could feel her stockings rip at the knees, then the searing pain of concrete tearing at the skin.

“You stupid bitch,” a very familiar voice hissed above her.

Erich tried to rise up from the ground, but a very painful kick to her lower back sent her sprawling onto her stomach.
The attacker stood in front of her, grabbed a huge chunk of auburn hair, and used it to pull her up on her knees, so she was facing him.

A strange noise escaped his mouth, and then Erich felt wetness on her forehead. He had spit on her! To make matters worse, her attacker still had a hold of her hair, and was twisting it around in his left hand, while adjusting a mask with his right. She prayed that the man would realize the possibility of being caught at any moment.

“You know dear,” the man hissed in disgust. “There is no one around but the two of us. The security guards are patrolling the fifth floor of the garage, and by the time they make it down here, I will have gotten what I want.”

Tears sprung into Erich’s eyes, as realization sunk in; she was either going to be raped, or kidnapped. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to rape you,” the man called out in that same disgusting voice. “I know you use to be a man, in fact I know all about you. I know that you married Paul before the surgery. Thought you could fool everyone, huh? I also know that your sister lies in a hospital room, been in a coma for five years because your father refuses to take her off life support. Hah! I also know that you and your husband are raising her daughter. Tell me dear, does little Stella know that her “Aunt Erich,” use to be, “Uncle Erich?”

The man paused for a minute, while Erich tried to settle into a comfortable position, but it was difficult due to the fact that she was on her knees, and the evil attacker still held onto her hair.

With a deep sigh, the man looked down. Erich could feel his burning hatred through the mask. In a voice filled with absolute venom, he continued, “I know everything about your family Erich. I know that your father is living with a man named Robert.” Once again, he paused so she could digest this information. “Oh yes, I know. Hey, isn’t your husband Robert’s son?”

Erich gasped out loud. How did he know? No one in this area knew. The only people who knew lived in her hometown of Avoy; the small, community was located so far up in the mountains that many Atlanta natives had never heard of it.
Erich was suddenly thrust from her day dream as the attacker leaned forward, and kicked her in the stomach. He released all but several strands of her hair, so that when she fell backward they were violently yanked out.

Falling on her side, Erich immediately closed her eyes as hot tears began to fall. She felt the attacker move closer to her head. Fearing that he would kick her there, Erich tried to crawl away, but the man stopped her by placing his foot on her shoulder. With one final breath he hissed, “Now, go show your daddy, and Robert what happened. I’m sure they will remember me.”

With that, he released his foot, and walked off into the night. Soon after, she heard the distant sound of a car leaving the garage.

Curling up into a ball beside two parked cars, Erich finally allowed herself to cry hoping that someone would come to her rescue, but as the minutes slowly passed, no one came. As her mind began to clear, that very familiar voice came back to her. The attacker was obviously the man who announced her secret at the party, but there was something more. He knew everything about her family. Who was he?

Images of the short, stocky man swirled through her head. He couldn’t be more that five-foot-six, and had a pale, skin tone. His voice was very hoarse. Then it hit her. He had talked to her in that bitter filled voice because he was hiding an accent. She knew who her attacker was; in fact she had known him all her life! Why he used that “high school excuse” at the party was a mystery to her; the man was old enough to be her father.

Slowly, Erich raised herself to her feet, and winced in pain. Because of being forced to her knees for such a long period of time, her legs were killing her. Reaching down, she removed her heels, and sighed in relief as her stocking feet made contact with the cool cement. Erich then opened her handbag, took out her car keys, and shoved the shoes inside. She felt a cool sensation on her chest as she did this. Looking down she saw that the top of her dress had been torn open, and her breasts were exposed. Fighting back another round of tears, Erich pulled her coat around her, and snapped it shut.

Her attacker was right; he had known her all of his life. The sight of Erich’s body must have repulsed him. She remembered being kicked, and it all made sense; he was disgusted at her for the sex change.

“But that doesn’t explain his hatred for dad, and Robert,” Erich muttered to herself, as she limped over to her car.
“I thought the three of them were good…acquaintances.” With a gasp, she realized that her father and father-in-law really didn’t know this man. Sure they saw him all the time in Avoy, but he always declined invitations for dinner parties, or any other occasion given by her dad. Not once in the twenty-three-years of Erich’s life did the man attend any kind of event at their house, he always graciously declined. Now that she thought about it, the man was a loner. He lived by himself in a cabin nestled in the woods. He never seemed to have any company, or a girlfriend, yet he was regarded as one of the most respected men in town because of his charming personality.

Shaking her head, Erich unlocked her car, and slid into the luxuriously soft seat. After closing the door, she realized that she had to head over to her father’s house. Forget about going to the police, her dad knew more about this man than they did. Also, she was terrified of spending the night alone, because her attacker knew her Atlanta address.

Tearing out of the parking lot, Erich began the thirty minute drive to Avoy. Once she sped out of the city, and into the woods realization sunk in, her father had not seen her since the surgery. In fact today was the first time that Paul had even made face-to-face contact with her parents when he dropped Stella off. The reason why she never went over, or sent a photo was very simple—she didn’t want to frighten him, as well as everyone else in town.

Naturally, he approved of her decision, but Erich knew that it would take some time for him to get use to seeing her as a girl, let alone one with a Marilyn Monroe figure.

Minutes later, she pulled into her father’s driveway. Glancing up at the house, she saw that the lights were still on; well it was only seven-thirty at night. Feeling light headed at the time, Erich turned off the car, and looked down. Her cashmere coat was hugging her pin-up girl figure. She then caught a glance of herself in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were blood-shot, and puffy. A thin line of dried blood ran down her face from when her attacker pulled her hair out. Erich immediately burst into tears. She couldn’t let her father see her this way. Outside, there lived a ton of memories of growing up with her dad. All the times he tried to teach her how to play golf, tennis, and football in the backyard. Every winter they would have snowball fights in the front yard with her sister. That summer her father taught her (then a boy), how to swim in the creek behind their house. Throughout the years that evil man, her attacker, had witnessed it all. Erich knew why he had assaulted her, but she still didn’t know why he loathed her father, and Robert.

Suddenly, a bright light hit the car; someone had turned on the back porch light. Momentarily, the back door opened, and her father walked out.

“Erich is that you? I saw your car pull up in the driveway.”

Erich began to cry harder, she needed her father—the hell with everything else.

After yanking the car keys from the ignition, she grabbed her purse, opened the car door, and tumbled out.

“Erich is that really you,” Peter's voice called out in disbelief.

Slamming the door shut, she ran crying into her father’s arms

Katrina D. Miller
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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so... I guess I don't understand. This is complete? When we don't know who the attacker is and the story isn't resolved at all? Even short stories need a conflict and a resolution of some sort, imo. Did I just miss the clues to let the reader know it is is? I know your notes say this is a prequel to another story but it just doesn't seem to stand alone. I'd consider this more of a prologue, depending on how your story goes. Interesting characters, you definitely made Erich come off the screen but the story left me feeling dissatisfied.

 

 

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On 08/14/2011 04:49 AM, Cia said:
so... I guess I don't understand. This is complete? When we don't know who the attacker is and the story isn't resolved at all? Even short stories need a conflict and a resolution of some sort, imo. Did I just miss the clues to let the reader know it is is? I know your notes say this is a prequel to another story but it just doesn't seem to stand alone. I'd consider this more of a prologue, depending on how your story goes. Interesting characters, you definitely made Erich come off the screen but the story left me feeling dissatisfied.

 

No it's not complete. This is just a short story. As of right now, this is all I have.
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I encourage you to continue this storyline. It would be great to bring Paul into the picture and for the reader to see what transpires between Erich and her father when she gets into the house. Good job on the dialogue.

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