RANSVESTIA

Further down, my hands rested lazily in my lap and my fingernails were long and ruby red in their richness. I brought my hands into tight fists and felt the ridiculously long fingernails dig into my palms. They had used some kind of hard plastic to build the nails out to their razor- sharp points.

My hips jutted out sensuously and under the dress I could feel the pull of the garters that made the sheer nylon stocking hug my smooth legs. Further down I saw the five-inch high heeled pumps they had forced my feet into. I trembled at the black patent leather glistening up at me and felt a strange feeling around my neck.

For the first time I realized that my neck no longer throbbed. Instead, I could feel the strange sensation of long ringlets of curls sweeping past my shoulders as I moved my head from side to side. But how could this be? Then I knew, I was wearing a wig.

Now I wanted desperately to try out my voice. I let out an unearthly scream. Then I cried out, “You have brain-washed me!"

No one replied. My voice seemed to hang suspended in the eerie quiet- ness of the sound proof audition room and they each seemed to be hyp- notized by the strange feminine tone of it. Again I screamed, "You've drugged me with that LSD!"

"Now are you going to behave yourself, Donna," Sylvia said, “or do we call the Harris brothers in here. They're waiting out in the station lobby, you know.”

"How how do you know about them?” I hissed.

"Why you told us, all of us," Sylvia replied importantly, "we were right there with you in Jamaica Plains. We saw little Judy, her cute little pink pinafore you put on, everything.

..

I waited before replying. I knew she could be bluffing. Perhaps I had related my experience in Jamaica Plains. But the Harris brothers would be thirty-three years old now. It was impossible for them to be here in Lewisburg.

Something made me lunge for Sylvia and I leaped up from the chair, tearing and slashing at her with my long fingernails. But as quickly, I

18