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A classic tale of good meets evil—and what happens when things come...

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Copyright © 2018 Shauna J. Rousseau
All Rights Reserved.
All image originals sourced from Creative Commons.

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Author’s Note:

Here is my entry into Melanie’s awesome contest. Thanks to her for doing this—and to all that have entered. They are really good!

HUGS!
Shauna

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From the Heart
 
I sigh and finish scrubbing the kitchen floor.

I push the errant bangs out of my eyes and sigh some more, then wearily pick myself up off my hands and knees and empty the dirty pail of water in the sink, rinse out the scrub brush, then empty the pail of its dirty water and rinse it out. I can’t help but notice my long, ragged fingernails as I put it away in the pantry.

I put the other cleaning supplies away with another sigh and go to my room, passing several mirrors on the way. I grimace at the sight that peers back at me from each one as I can’t help but notice the haggard reflection staring back at me.

I’m wearing tight skinny jeans that are too short—coming to a stop about two inches above my ankle. Although, to be honest, they are designed to be that short—they’re just not something I would pick out for myself. I have on a tight pink t-shirt with “I Love Cap” and a large picture of Captain America in a heart emblazoned on it. The large, pert, bra-less breasts pushing at Cap’s head from behind are to the point that they won’t be ignored, anymore—their ‘headlights’ giving his eyes a cartoonish popped-out-look.

I walk expertly in the four-inch stilettos, not even registering the loud clicking they make on the slate floors. The four added inches they give me on top of my five foot, one-inch height make me barely tall enough to fully see into the mirrors.

I have no make-up on—giving me a tomboyish appearance. That is in spite of my braided, near-waist-length, but otherwise unkempt strawberry-blonde hair and my shaped, but equally unkempt eyebrows. My naturally long and thick eyelashes framing deep emerald-green eyes are my most striking and feminine feature—although the light in my eyes is dulled with the drudgery and hopeless despair in my life.

I throw myself on my bed and feel the dreaded tears come, but fight them off. It’s been that way for quite some time, now—at first, I had absolutely no control over my emotions. Now, I at least have some semblance of control—if tenuous, at best.

I think about the last two years of my life and wonder how things would have been different if I’d never been adopted by my ‘mother’. The bitter taste that word leaves in my mouth is enough to completely stem the threat of the tears, but not enough to squelch my musings.

I think about the day that I was orphaned almost three years ago, now. It was my thirteenth birthday and Mom and Dad had taken me into the city for an outing. We lived in the country and a trip to the city was a very special treat for me.

This was no exception—the day was exquisite. Right up to the ‘accident’. There is no explanation that anyone can find for what happened. One minute, we were celebrating my birthday in my favorite restaurant; the next, both Mom and Dad just…fell over in a coma. A week later, I was put into foster care, since I had no other family that wanted to care for me and the doctors had no hope that my parents would wake up—they still don’t.

I stayed in foster care for about six months, then was taken completely by surprise when a lady—a prominent local pharmacist—stopped by to visit the family I was staying with at the time. She seemed a little off to me, but I remained polite—Mom and Dad would have had it no other way. The same was to be said about my foster families—I was with a total of five families in just the first three months alone. Some were better than others; but I remained polite—if not really upbeat.

The surprise came when the lady asked me three weeks later if I would be OK with her adopting me. I wasn’t OK with it really—I mean I didn’t even know the lady. But, I remained polite and the ‘system’ determined it was in my best interest—and I was adopted by her, since she is such an upstanding citizen, and all—being a successful pharmacist and a ‘pillar of society’.

After she picked me up and we arrived at her very nice house in the suburbs of the city, she introduced me to her son—my new step-brother. I could tell right away that he was a spoiled brat. That is when I also found out that there is no dad in the picture. I guess that doesn’t matter when your ‘prominent’.

The first few days were OK—sort of like just going to a new foster home. Except I wouldn’t be leaving this one, given that the lady is now my legal step-mother.

I couldn’t help but wonder why she wanted me, though. She obviously dotes on her son and I was just sort of…there.

Then, after the first week was over, things quickly changed. I found out that in reality she is an accomplished dark witch and just uses the pharmacy as a front for her occult customers.

I also found out that she’s the reason that my parents are in a coma and that I have to do everything that she says if the coma is not to become death. At that point, I knew that not having any other family and coming from a remote corner of the country was the reason that she targeted me. No one will actually ever come looking for me.

At that point, she informed me that I will be her maid and cook and will look after her son while she is busy with her clients—that I will do anything that he wishes and ‘in my spare time’ keep the house spotless.

I wanted to fight back—I did…do... But she had…has…me thoroughly beat with a one-two punch. She’s my legal guardian and I’m still a minor.

And she has the fate of my parents in her hands.

That was when she revealed my new room. Up until then, I had been staying in the guest room—from that time on, I get a dark, damp corner of the basement. You would think that such a nice house would have an equally nice basement—you would be wrong. It’s disgusting!

To make matters worse, my new wardrobe only consists of young girl’s clothing that is little better than rags—clearly all having come from the bargain section of a thrift store. Her only comment was that, ‘as a maid, I need to dress like one’…

She made me change into clothes from the small cupboard and took all my old, but otherwise perfect clothing with her—to exchange them for some more things from the thrift store. The only shoes that were in the bottom of the small cupboard were two pairs of four-inch stilettos that had clearly seen better days. To my surprise, they fit perfectly—although, my intention was to just go barefoot, rather than wear them.

That plan was quickly put to rest, though, when she commanded that I put on a pair of the heels and follow her to a small freezer on the other side of the basement. I barely made it without breaking my ankle—or my neck—having never actually had the desire to wear heels before. The distinct click of the pointed heels on the damp concrete floor reverberated through the basement and increasingly pounded more hopelessness into my soul with every wobbly step I took.

She informed me that the freezer contains my food—small pouches of nourishing smoothies that have constituted my only diet from then on. I have only been allowed access to three pouches a day—and only if I follow her or her son’s orders to a ‘t’.

She then handed me a small vial of a sickly, neon-pink liquid and ordered me to drink it with an evil smirk on her face.

I started to refuse—I really did.

She was ready for my misplaced rebellion, though. She pulled a mirror from her purse and faced it towards me. I could plainly see Mom and Dad laying in hospital-type beds, looking almost like they were just peacefully asleep. She waved her hand over the mirror and I saw the looks of intense pain form on their faces. She just raised her eyebrows and nodded her head towards the vial, her smirk increasing.

At that point, I was completely consumed with a bone-chilling terror for my parents and quickly swallowed the bitter liquid in one huge gulp. She nonchalantly waved her hand over the mirror again—almost like it was no big deal to cause such pain and suffering; like she enjoyed causing them pain.

Mom and Dad’s faces became serene once again.

That is when all fight left me—and my days of deepest and darkest despair began. It was only the beginning, though.

I started being the ‘good little maid’. I have done everything that the brat demanded. I have made sure that the house was spotless and the brat ate well. Of course, it took a while for me to learn how to clean—and especially to cook. So I missed out on a lot of ‘smoothies’ in the beginning as punishment not completing my chores—and lost a lot of weight as a result.

Regardless of whether I got a smoothie, or not, I’ve been forced to drink two of the pink vials every day—one in the morning and one before bed. So, some days it’s the only thing in my stomach and just sits there and burns like a hot coal on a bed of ice—steaming and roiling and eating its way through my soul.

Over the first year, though, I finally did learn to clean efficiently and cook quickly and well. It was purely through trial and error and motivated by the need to squelch the burn of the potion in my stomach. Well, and the frequent ‘visits’ with my parents that ‘mother’ allows me in her mirror—her hand always poised above it just waiting to wave and send them into a new round of pain.

Of course, being school-aged, I’ve had to go to school—the same school as the brat. I had to learn to juggle my ‘house’ duties with my school ones—which has both been a blessing and curse. It has given me a welcome break from my chore-driven drudgery—but has only increased the pressure and my despair when I have to perform housework in the limited time I have left in the day.

Since ‘mother’ is such an upstanding citizen and no one can know my true ‘status’ at home, I have decent school clothing—it’s all young girl’s stuff, but nondescript enough that I don’t stand out. It’s the only time that I can wear anything but my heels—but, my only other option is a pair of worn-out ballet flats that leave a lot to be desired.

Since I don’t have time for a social life and the brat has demanded that I stay invisible, I have kept to myself at school and intensely focused on the material—going through it in my head while I clean. Basically, I leave everyone alone and, for the most part, everyone leaves me alone—I’ve become good at being invisible.

And so, I’m now starting my second year of my hopeless despair and unappreciated, monotonous drudgery. Living on only the smoothies has left me skinny and without the nutrients to really grow much at all. There seems to be just enough nourishment in them to sustain me—but not enough to let me flourish. Scott, the brat, however is entering puberty in a big way. He is on the football team, and is working out a lot to bulk up with the goal of becoming the starting quarterback. With that in mind, he has his eye on Jenny, the school hottie and head-cheerleader, to be.

I’ve started the new year, once again, as the semi-self-anointed social leper. I only regret that ‘choice’ when I think about Jenny and get that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. It’s a feeling that has been growing in me and shows up at the oddest times—but especially when I think of Jenny. I just get sort of warm and gooey inside. I know I’ll never have a chance at anyone in her league—her Mom is the Mayor and she’s the most popular girl in our grade—not that I have time to worry about, anyway. It’s just those feelings are so danged nice!

Scott has started to miraculously bulk up of late—like he’s on steroids, or something. It’s just too much, too fast, for the ‘working out’ he does. I suspect it’s the bilious-green stuff ‘mother’ gives him. Sort of the counterpart to the neon pink stuff she makes me drink. So, it wasn’t really a surprise when I felt my nipples get sore and start to grow—along with my breasts. I mean, I don’t believe in those sorts of coincidences.

Surprise, or not, it has certainly been very confusing—and only served to add to my depression. This is just making it even more difficult to maintain that invisible look I need at school.

To make matters worse, while Scott has been well ahead of the curve on his development, was actually behind compared to the girls my age when I started to develop a few months ago. I quickly caught up, though, and have seriously overtaken them. I mean…I’m growing…boobs!

You might wonder why that bothers me?

The problem is—I’m not a girl.

I’m not!

“Fiona!”

I jump and curse. I hate it when he calls me that and he knows it! It’s his way of rubbing in my ‘feminized’ status and calling me an ogre, at the same time.

I mutter under my breath, “Someday, I’ll be back to Andy…”

I sigh, climb off the bed, and click up the stairs. When I get to the top of them, I see Scott and still can’t help but groan internally—like I do every time I see his six-foot-three-inch, heavily-muscled frame. He dwarfs my five-foot-one-inch one—with, or without heels—and it just drives home my status even more.

I ask, “What is it, Scott? Your dinner is ready and the house is clean. I need to do my homework.”

He’s sitting at the table, wolfing down the hamburger and fries I had fixed him. He says in his deep baritone, “I need some ketchup, Fiona! Really! How long have you been serving me and you still don’t know the simplest of basics?”

I want to kick him in the shins with the very pointed toe of my dilapidated stiletto, but the girlish voice that escapes my mouth, mad as it is, is enough of an indication of how well that would go over, “Oh, sure. Let me take the three steps that it would take you to get it, yourself.”

He shakes his head and says, “Don’t make me get Mom to take out that mirror of hers!”

I pale, in spite of myself, and hand him the ketchup from the refrigerator. I say with barely contained rage—and terror, “Is there anything else, Scott? I really need to go finish up my algebra.”

He shakes his head and says, “I don’t know why you’re worried about it. It’s not like a girl needs it—or that you’ll be able to go to college, anyway. No, you’ll be our maid for the rest of your life…”

I just turn my back and rush down the steps; my heels tapping out a furious staccato-rhythm on the wooden treads.

I hear him leave an hour later and close my algebra book, feeling better about the material. I sigh and go back upstairs to clean off the table and put away his mess. I notice the flyer as I absentmindedly pick up his plate. It’s for the upcoming school dance and has scribbles of less-than-PG-rated fantasies about Jenny on it.

Scott still has illusions of dating Jenny. As the next star quarterback—with his mother’s magical help—he thinks it’s his destiny to be with the head cheerleader. And hers to be with him…

Jenny has gotten very beautiful over the past year as her curves have filled out in all the right places and in just the right proportions. So far, she has resisted Scott’s ‘charm’, though. To my horror, I heard Scott discussing a love potion with ‘mother’ the other night to ensure their destiny is fulfilled.

I think about that again as I finish drying the dishes. I shake my head and decide that I can’t let that happen to her. She’s a special girl—as beautiful in spirit as in body. She’s the most popular girl in school, but for all the right reasons.

I know that I’m playing with my parents’ lives—and very souls—but I can’t believe they would want me to let this evil witch ruin someone else’s life.

I drink my nightly ‘pink drink’ under the watchful eye of ‘mother’ and go back down to the basement. My stomach has long ago given up growling at the minimal nourishment it receives and I simply put on my tattered nightgown and climb onto the lumpy cot with the itchy sheets and pull the threadbare covers over me. I breathe in the scent of the chlorine I use in a futile attempt to mask the dank smell of the air. The decrepit condition of the basement is inescapable—but while it may not look like much, it’s at least immaculately clean.

I fall asleep with a plan forming in my mind to save Jenny—a dangerous one, to be sure. But, it’s all I’ve got.
 

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I get up and drink my morning ‘pink drink’ under the usual watchful eye of ‘mother’, then I put my frozen bag of smoothie into the blender and quickly blend it to a drinkable consistency and slowly sip it to make it last as long as I can. I, of course, don’t notice how dainty that looks…

My hunger less than satisfied, I clean the blender. Then I set out to make coffee, bacon and eggs, hash browns, and toast for Scott. ‘Mother’ has already left for the day—as usual—poisoning infant formula, or performing some other nefarious deed.

I have long-since learned to ignore the tantalizing smell of the coffee and the bacon. Unfortunately, my mouth has not yet learned to resist watering—not that I can even really remember what anything other than my smoothie and potion tastes like. The one time I had almost taken a nibble of the leftovers on Scott’s plate, ‘mother’ had walked in and I knew she knew. The pointed look she gave her mirror was enough to discourage any further temptations from that moment on.

I set out his plate and go back down to the basement to take a shower and get ready for school. I’m long used to the freezing-cold water, but I still don’t linger in the shower any longer than absolutely necessary.

It also doesn’t take me long to get ready—the longest part is combing out my wet hair, pulling it tightly back, and braiding it, so it won’t get tangled. I learned that lesson the hard way when it started growing miraculously fast—along with my nails. I let the braid dangle in back and put on some jeans and a t-shirt, then my shoes. I leave the braid under my shirt to hide my long hair—even if I wanted to wear it loose, it’s not in any shape to do so. Washing it with dish soap and rinsing it with cold water has left it dull and lifeless.

I go back up and quickly clean up the dishes. I look out the window and see Scott driving off in his new Mustang—the one he just got for his sixteenth birthday. I shake my head and put the last dried dish away before I grab my things to go out and wait for the bus.

I get off of the bus at school and walk up the steps and through the front doors, looking for my target the whole time. When I reach the main hallway, I see her and muster up the last of my courage, before walking intently in her direction. The potion in my stomach is burning hotter than usual and I feel like I’m going to throw up. It gets worse with every step I take closer to her—at the same time, that warm and fuzzy feeling starts up. I concentrate on the ‘warm and fuzzy’ and push the ‘burning’ from my mind—I have to do this.

Jenny is about to go meet with the cheerleaders when I resolutely step up to her and say, “Excuse me. Jenny?”

The most beautiful girl in the school looks up at me in surprise and asks, “Andi? Right? What can I do for you?”

I sigh and say, “This is going to sound really weird, but don’t trust my step-brother, Scott. He’s up to no good—and is planning on… Planning on…well, on giving you a love potion.”

I wait for the laughing to begin—or the taunting. What I get is a total surprise. Anger, but not at me!

She explodes, “He wouldn’t dare!”

I stutter, “Y…y…you believe me?”

She looks at me like I’m a little daft and asks, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean your stepmother is an evil witch, after-all!”

My eyes bug out a little at that. I had no idea that people knew. I mean, sure, she has clients and all, but…

I sigh, “A fact that I’m not proud of. Just be careful! OK, Jenny?”

She gives me a deep, thoughtful look and then surprises me with a hug. Her ring catches on the one strand of hair that I had missed in my braid and she pulls it loose as she breaks the hug. I wince but quickly hide it as she looks at me and says, “You’re sweet, Andi. Are you coming to the dance?”

I shake my head and say, “Aside from no one asking me, I’m not good at…social activities. And, well, ‘mother’ and all…”

She nods in understanding and reaches behind her head. She undoes one of her necklaces—one with a heart pendant on it—and catches me by surprise as she reaches around and clasps it around my neck. She says, “Well, this will let everyone know that I’m your friend—don’t take ever it off—keep it close to your heart.”

She surprises me again as she gives me a firm kiss on the cheek and hurries off.

I stand there in complete shock and that warm and fuzzy feeling gets even warmer and I feel slightly dizzy and…all totally gooey inside…

I finger the necklace around my neck. I relish the fact that it’s still warm from her touch—I don’t really notice that it’s actually much warmer than that. I stick it under my blouse and hurry off to class. I barely make it before the tardy bell.
 

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I get off the bus at my stop. It had been a strange ride home—normally, I sit in a seat all by myself in the middle of the bus. No one bothers me and I don’t talk to anyone.

Today, three girls—popular cheerleaders—stop and say hi to me on the way to the back of the bus, which is the cheerleader section.

I meekly say hi back and notice the heart around my neck get warmer with each greeting—not hot or uncomfortably warm. Just warm enough to be noticeable—and just enough to feel cozy. It’s oddly comforting.

I get off at my stop and quickly walk into the house. I go straight to my ‘room’ to change clothes and spend the next hour-and-a-half deep-cleaning the bathrooms; then I fix Scott’s snack, since I know he’ll be home from football practice in fifteen minutes, or so.

Finally, I go back down to do my homework. I hear Scott come in and devour the snack I had left for him, then his car roar off again, just minutes after he got here.

I finish my algebra with a sigh. I go up and clean up the huge mess he left behind for such a simple snack. I don’t know why, but it hits me hard—and I start crying. He’ll be going to the dance in a little less than a week and having a good time. I’ll stay ‘home’ and be miserable—and all because ‘mother’ put my parents into a coma.

I miss them so much! I wish I could be with them again! What I wouldn’t give to feel their hug one more time; hear their laugh; have Mom kiss me on the cheek…

I feel the heart around my neck almost buzz with energy and briefly get warm—almost hot. Or, I think I do. It’s over in an instant and I suddenly feel stupid as I reach for it and it’s just the same temperature as my body.

I shake my head and go back down to finish my homework.
 

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Three hours later, I look into her eyes and flinch. ‘Mother’ is mad—she knows. She hands me my ‘pink drink’ and watches me swallow it. I do so with a palpable trepidation—I had noticed it was a slightly different color pink as I lifted the vial to my lips.

I suddenly feel dizzy and my breasts get really tight and swell even larger. I had been able to sort of downplay them in the past—now…

Well, now, there is no downplaying them.

She hands me a bra—a 22-D. I had done the measurements once and figured out that I’m a dress size ‘00’ with the ‘diet’ that I’m on. A D-cup is ludicrously large on such a small frame—and impossible to downplay. She watches me struggle into the bra—a push-up one that only enhances my cleavage even more.

Then she gives me an icy stare as she hands me a vial filled with a blood-red liquid. The liquid is swirling inside the vial in a mesmerizing way and almost seems to have a pulse like it has a heartbeat.

She says, “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Fiona. I’ve been patient and put up with you trying to hide your womanhood—but no more. Try and hide those puppies. You shouldn’t have warned Jenny. You’re very lucky that I don’t send your parents into oblivion. As it is, this works out well, in spite of your meddling. You will give Jenny this potion and convince her to drink it. I will know if she does not. She will know that you cursed her—and hate you, forever.”

She lets that sink in and I’m consumed with dread and a premonition of doom.

She gives me a pointed look and continues, “Not drinking it is a sentence for your parents worse than death—I want you to fully understand that. It will mean they will never wake up, but also never die! They will exist forever in a permanent state of pain. I promise you that. If, however, Jenny drinks this potion, then I will consider letting them wake up in a year, or two—after Scott and Jenny are married. Of course, you will still be their maid—and nanny. My wedding present to them…”

I blanche and hang my head. I honestly don’t know what to do. I pray that I can find the wisdom to handle this and that my parents’ spirit can give me the strength to do what I have to. I wish that I will never turn out anything like this dark and evil being—that I can find my way to the light and bask in its glory. But she’s doing a really good job of poisoning my soul…

I put on the obvious girl’s t-shirt that she hands me. It’s skin tight and is grotesquely stretched out by the melon-sized orbs on my chest. I take the vial that she forces into my hands and put it in my bag for tomorrow—then I go to bed under her watchful eye.

I don’t sleep—not really. Try as I might, I can’t find a good solution to my predicament. The huge, uncomfortable boobs don’t help, either. Try as I might I can’t find a solution. There is no compromise—someone will lose. Either it will be Jenny’s soul—or my parents’.

Either way, I’m afraid it will consume me with the desire for revenge and push my soul to the dark side.

The next morning, I get up, bleary-eyed, and follow my normal morning routine: Breakfast for Scott after my ‘pink drink’. It’s the modified variety, again, and suddenly makes my hips and butt grow to a size that is befitting of my new breasts.

After my cold shower, I pull on my jeans and can’t help but notice how I fill them out ‘correctly’ now—my already thin waist accentuated even more by my new chest, hip, and butt measurements. Talk about hour-glass figures!

I know it’s to humiliate me—to remind me of what I’ve lost; what I still could lose. It’s meant to break my spirit.

It’s doing a good job…

It’s a good thing I don’t wear makeup—it would be in shambles right now.
 

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I get off the bus and feel the weight of the vial in my backpack—not that it’s that heavy. Physically, that is. The emotional weight is another matter, entirely, though.

I struggle with what to do with it. If I do the right thing and not give it to her, then I condemn Mom and Dad to an eternally painful existence in oblivion. If I give it to her to save them, they will likely not forgive me for doing the wrong thing by Jenny. Either way, I won’t be able to forgive myself.

Which is worse? Having Mom and Dad mad at me for a while—but with me? Well, for whatever amount of time a married Scott and Jenny—who will likely be corrupted by the potion—will allow.

I sigh and walk up to Jenny. She smiles at me and says, “Good morning, Andi. My! You’ve…grown. Girls! Come here, please!”

Suddenly we’re surrounded by cheerleaders—one more beautiful than the other. But none more beautiful than Jenny.

Jenny says, “Girls, this is Andi, if you don’t know her. She’s a little shy—but we’re going to help her come out of her shell and go to the dance! Aren’t we?”

I blush and hang my head—shaking it ‘no’ at the same time and biting my lower lip.

I say, “I don’t deserve your friendship, Jenny.” I look up at the rest of the group and continue, “None of yours.”

Jenny comes over and drives a stake through my bleeding heart as she hugs me. I can’t stop the tears from flowing.

She asks, “What’s the matter, Andi? You can talk to us.”

I take a deep and very shaky breath and say, “’Mother’ gave me the potion that I warned you about—the one that I thought Scott was going to give you. She’s making me do it. I won’t, though…” I continue in a bare whisper, “I won’t do it!”

Jenny hugs me tightly and asks, “And if you don’t, what will happen?”

I continue to whisper—almost trance-like, “She will send my parents from the coma she has them in to oblivion.”

There are gasps all around.

I continue—my voice a little stronger, “But I couldn’t live with myself knowing that you were under their spell. It wouldn’t matter that I would be your bound maid and wedding present. I really wouldn’t care—except I would have to live with the knowledge that I did that to you every day for the rest of my life.”

She nods and gently puts her hands on my shoulders, then asks, “But what about your parents? If you don’t give it to me, then you will have to live with that knowledge for the rest of your life. I’m not worth that price.”

I shake my head and say, “I’m sorry, Jenny. I don’t know what to do—but I can’t give it to you. My parents lived a good life and you deserve the same. Evil may win the battle with me—but it won’t win the war for you.”

She looks me straight in the eye with a bright smile and says, “Andi, give me the bottle. It will be OK—I promise!”

I shake my head, but Jenny insists, “Andi, give me the vial! Girls, watch over her—I want to see her at the dance. Are we clear?”

They all nod and I reluctantly hand her the vial with the vile red liquid in it. My hand is shaking so hard, I nearly drop it. Jenny clasps her hands around it and my hands holding it.

She says, “It will be alright, Andi.”

She takes the vial from me and pulls out the tiny stopper, then downs the red liquid in one quick drink.

At first, I don’t think anything is happening, then I notice her beautiful amethyst-colored eyes turn a muddy brown, then a bilious green that is certainly the color of envy.

She looks at me and says, “What do you want, you little bitch? Go back to my Scott’s kitchen, where you belong!”

There is a collective gasp from the group of girls—and they circle me and protect me from the newly-evil Jenny.

Jenny storms off to look for her Scott and I break down in tears in the arms of the group of cheerleaders that welcomed me into their circle. I vow to get Jenny back from the clutches of the evil witch that has me in her claws. I promise Jenny that I will—if it’s the last thing I do.

I feel the heart on my chest get warm—then go ice-cold.
 

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I get off the bus and go in the house to do my chores. Not long after I finish scrubbing the kitchen floor, I hear the sound of Scott’s Mustang—and the bone-chilling laugh of Jenny. What was once the pure sound of an Angel is now the evil cackle of a dark witch.

They come in and ‘mother’ is not far behind. She smiles at me—a smile of pure evil.

She says, “You did good, Fiona. I will keep my promise—once Scott and Jenny are married, I will release your parents from their sleep. Of course, it will only be to witness you as the bound help that you will be. You will have to swear allegiance to Scott and Jenny to break the curse—you are the key to their awakening.”

Jenny says in a venomous tone, “If this little bitch is to be my help, she needs to be spruced up. You may be OK with her in those rags, but I have a reputation to uphold. She needs to be prim and proper and take some pride her appearance—a pretty little maid Barbie. Not that she will ever have a chance to use her beauty. She will be much too busy taking care of our mansion to worry about impressing anyone but our guests.”

I feel my heart get heavier. It’s like everything that was good about her has suddenly turned evil—and since she was pure good, she’s now pure evil.

‘Mother’ nods and says, “If that’s your wish, Jenny.” She produces a vial of the ‘pink drink’ and mutters something over it—then hands it to me with the clear indication that I’m to drink it.

I long ago quit fighting that fight—one that I know I can’t win. Like I said, I long ago quit caring about me—even though, I certainly don’t relish the humiliation.

I take the vial from her and swallow the sickly-sweet, thick liquid. I know I have a look of shock on my face—it’s always been bitter.

I feel funny—sort of tingly.

Jenny nods and says in a bitter tone, “Much better! Now, I think she should join the cheerleaders where I can watch over her and also give her a taste of the life she will never have. How else will she ever miss it?”

‘Mother’ giggles and says, “Oh, Hon! You’re going to be the best daughter ever! I thought at first that I could turn this one—but it wound up being impossible. No matter!”

Jenny says, “OK, Fiona. Now that you have a Barbie doll figure and beauty, go get dressed in something more appropriate.”

She hands me a French Maid uniform that Scott had had hanging over his shoulder the whole time—completely unnoticed by me.

I blush deep pink at the sight of the skimpy uniform and take it from her, then go downstairs to change.

I look in the mirrors on the way and can’t believe what I see. Picture a real-life Barbie doll—not caricaturish, but real.

That’s me. I shudder.

I slowly put the uniform on once I’m downstairs and can’t believe what they’re making me do. I have the ‘perfect’ figure according to men all across the globe. My face is feminine and alluring—with a cute button-nose and full lips. My eyes are huge and electric-blue. My hair is soft and pure blonde. The only sign of Andy is the little piece of him still hiding in my panties—small as it is.

I put on the five-inch stilettos and click up the stairs to stand in front of the gang of evil that I’m now completely at the mercy of.

Jenny looks at me down her nose and says, “Well, now. That’s much better! That’s how a maid should dress, don’t you think, Scott?”

He’s too busy drooling to answer and Jenny cackles, “Now, now, Love! You’re mine! Let’s leave the help alone!”

He dumbly nods and ‘mother’ giggles in her evil manner.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hopeless as I do at that moment. I don’t see how I will ever be able to pull Jenny back from the curse I delivered to her.

I feel the cold heart on my chest get colder—so cold it almost burns.
 

---

I sit in the back of the Mustang with its top down and the wind blowing my loose hair all over the place—an experience I’m certainly used to. I quickly give up trying to hold it down. Scott is driving too fast with one hand and has his other arm around Jenny in a greedy way. Jenny has her head on his shoulder and keeps looking at me with an evil grin in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are still a bilious green and seem to throw daggers of ice at me.

Scott screeches to a stop at the entry to the school parking lot and Jenny throws me out. The other cheerleaders are waiting and she says with contempt, “You know what to do!”

The girls give her an exasperated look and I just want to cry at what I’ve done to her. Then I’m suddenly caringly enveloped by the swarm of cheerleaders and warmly whisked away to a girl’s bathroom.

The hour before school is spent putting makeup and nail polish on me. I’m told that we’re going shopping right after cheerleading practice—practice that I’m to take part in.

I feel my heart pound with fear and try and argue that I have to get home to do my chores—that I don’t have any money to shop. The girls just giggle and say that it’s all taken care of.

To say the day is strange would be an understatement. As far as anyone is concerned, I’ve always been ‘Fiona’, with the Barbie Doll figure—but that never took care of herself. Jenny has always been the stereotypical head cheerleader bitch that dates the star quarterback, Scott. I’ve always been a cheerleader, but Jenny finally got tired of me letting myself go and put me into the girls’ hands with the ultimatum that I shape up or ship out.

When we get out on the field after school, I about fall off the top of the pyramid when I find that I not only know all of the cheers, but that I’m the most acrobatic of everyone.

After practice, we all go to the mall, still in our cheerleading outfits and the girls drag me around every store in the place. They buy me a whole new wardrobe and I wind up with triple-pierced ears and a naval-ring to match the rest of the squad. My mind is in a whirl of confused emotions at the sudden changes in my drudgery—it feels good to be a part of the comradery of the close-knit group.

I know that’s Jenny’s evil plan, though. Otherwise, the new clothes could have just appeared in my closet along with the rest of the changes. She wants to get me hooked on that feeling, then take it away to drive home the hopelessness of my plight in life.

The heart on my chest grows even colder.

When I get home I expect to be berated for being out so late and not having Scott’s snack or the cleaning done. I find Scott and Jenny making out on the couch and not a word is said. Jenny just points to the basement and I hurry down to do my homework…
 

---

The week leading up to the dance is wonderfully strange. My inclusion in the group of cheerleaders is cemented more and more every day—even though, Jenny is always evil to me during practice. The other girls shield me from her and I grow to love them all like sisters—and they take care of me like one of their own.

Jenny’s evil nature is a constant reminder of what I’ve done, though. I’m still resolute in my determination to free her of the curse that I put her under. As far as I’m concerned, I did place the curse on her—if not willingly. Every time I think about freeing her, the heart on my chest gets a little colder.

By the night of the dance, the heart has become so cold that it actually sticks to my skin like your wet tongue would to a cold metal surface. Strangely enough, it’s not uncomfortable, though.

All of us girls—without Jenny—gather to get ready for the dance together. My little red dress is beautiful and by the time the girls are done with me, I put the most glamorous Barbie Doll to shame—not that I’m proud of that.

We all leave the room that we had gotten ready in together and the girls all meet up with their dates. Even though, I’m here alone, they don’t let me feel that way—even their dates are perfect gentlemen.

We enter the school as a group and I see Jenny with Scott already there. My heart sinks as I see Jenny hanging all over Scott. When they come over, Jenny cackles and says, “Well, even those six-inch heels don’t give you enough height! You really are just a nothing, little girl—endowed as you are!”

Her criticism infuriates me. Not that I care about the words she’s belittling me with—she’s just stating the facts. It’s the fact she is belittling me—that’s not Jenny. It’s enough to push me over the edge.

I feel the heart on my chest grow so cold that it grafts itself to my skin. It doesn’t hurt—it’s oddly comforting as a strange peace settles into my soul.

Jenny suddenly notices the necklace as my hand unconsciously goes to it. She comes over with a cackle and says, “You stole this from me, you little bitch! I’ll have it back, now!”

I start to shrink back as she reaches for the little heart that she freely gave me and that has firmly attached itself to my skin.

She says, “Scott! Hold the little thief still! I want my necklace back!”

He pushes his way through the little group surrounding me and holds me from behind—my arms firmly pinned to my sides.

I beg her, “Jenny! No! You gave it to me!”

She shakes her head and screams, “Liar!”

She puts her hand on the pendant and screams in pain as it burns itself into her hand and we’re firmly connected to each other.

Her eyes turn back to muddy-brown and then a little of the old amethyst peeks through. She gasps, “Andi, you’re the key. Don’t think—you know what to do. Just do it!”

I gasp as I feel her connection to me. I can feel her soul fighting the evil in her.

I can see the evil in her.

I mentally grasp that evil and force it into Scott through his grasp on my arms. I don’t know how I know how to do it—I just do!

He groans and collapses in a trembling puddle of misery on the floor. He’s quickly shrinking to his pre-potion form—diminutive and weak.

Jenny’s eyes fully turn back to their natural amethyst color and she smiles at me—then she firmly kisses me on the lips.

I feel that warm and fuzzy feeling explode inside me and start to ask what just happened, when a voice reverberates loudly in my head, “You little bitch! You have just condemned your parents to a miserable existence in oblivion—neither dead, nor alive. Always in pain!”

I notice Jenny’s hand is still stuck to me via the little heart which has once again become warm—almost hot—and is vibrating. Jenny just smiles and whispers, “Remember what she told you before? You’re the key to your parents waking up—you know what to do.”

I start to argue and she puts a finger from her free hand on my lips and whispers, “Concentrate on your parents—I’m with you.”

And suddenly I can see them—feel them. I can feel their presence; sense their life force. I can feel Jenny giving me support of some sort.

I feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about that—but that feeling quickly chills as I sense an evil approaching them—some sort of astral form. I instinctively know it’s ‘mother’ and she’s furious—her intended wrath clearly palpable.

I feel a burning anger and embrace my parents with all of my love. I whisper, “Wake up! Please wake up! I miss you so much!”

I feel Jenny somehow augment my love and infuse it with pure light. To my surprise, they both open their eyes and there’s a huge amethyst wave of energy that emanates from my own astral form. It radiates out and there’s a scream of someone in pain in my head—it’s ‘mother’.

She screams, “You little witch! How did you find your powers? I had them bound!”

I feel the heart’s warmth pull me back to my body and release Jenny’s hand at the same time.

I look into Jenny’s eyes with confusion as the real ‘mother’ appears with a loud ‘pop’—quickly followed by my parents. I gasp—they are fully awake and clearly confused. They are glowing with a strange amethyst aura.

‘Mo…’—No, my evil captor rushes to her son and cradles him in her arms. He is glowing with the same strange amethyst aura and still unconscious. The witch looks at me with pure hatred in her eyes and moans, “What have you done to him? My magic can’t touch him? I can’t so anything to your parents!”

Jenny’s Mom, the Mayor, suddenly appears with a pop and says, “You know what it is, Malady. Your attempt to corrupt Andi has failed—she has come into her own right as a white witch and has righted the mix of good and evil you have attempted to tip in your favor. The thing is, if you hadn’t meddled, her powers would have likely remained dormant, since she was clearly content to grow up as a boy. You made it possible for her to come into her powers by forcing her to transition. Then, you jump-started them by intentionally hurting the ones she loves.”

Jenny adds, “Your plan between Scott and me could never work. As a witch of the light, I’m a committed lesbian and could never truly love Scott—or any man. That’s why your love potion was doomed to fail and I freely drank it.”

I stand there stunned and Jenny turns to me, “Andi, I told you it would be OK. I couldn’t tell you why because you had to make the choice to embrace your powers—or not. I had the utmost faith in you…”

She hesitates, then continues with a catch in her voice, “Because I love you—I always have. I just had to wait for you to embrace your true self. I had faith in the Goddess that you would.” She winks and adds, “Plus, the very fact that I did fall in love with you told me you would…”

She smiles at me and gives me a deep, very passionate kiss.

I feel that warm, fuzzy feeling explode inside me like a supernova and melt into a gooey puddle in her arms. I surrender to the knowledge that being a girl is right and feel myself become complete.

As I do, I feel the heart turn hot and fully sink inside of me to become a permanent part of me.

Jenny smiles and asks, “Are you OK, Love?”

I nod, still stunned at all that has happened.

Then I gasp! How do I explain this to my parents?

I look over at them and feel a large lump in my throat. Jenny whispers in my ear, “They know, Love. Just go to them.”

I look into her eyes and feel the love that I’ve longed for and know that it’s right—that we’re meant to be together. I know that I’m meant to be a white witch with powers of pure good and light. Just like Jenny.

I go over to my still-befuddled parents and take them into a sobbing embrace. As I do, the spell is completely broken and they squeeze me in a tight and very emotional hug—the fact that I’m now a girl with amethyst eyes isn’t even an issue. It’s like that’s how it’s always been…

Jenny’s Mom comes over with Jenny and says, “Andi, we need your help, Hon.”

I look into her amethyst eyes and she just smiles encouragingly at me.

I nod and Jenny takes my hand—her other in her Mother’s. They lead me to where Malady is still cradling her unconscious son. Melody, Jenny’s Mom, and Jenny walk around Malady and create a circle that is completed when Melody takes my free hand.

I gasp at the flow of energy that freely flows between the three of us—then inward. Malady screams as she and Scott disappear with a ‘pop’.

I stand there stunned and ask, “What just happened? Did we…?”

Melody says, “No, Hon. We just sent them away—they won’t bother us anymore tonight, but your ward will soon wear off of Scott and he will grow into a powerful warlock. You are his magical balance and Malady tried to coerce you into joining the black ranks to tip the scales in their favor. When that failed, she attempted to force you into corrupting Jenny. You have done well, Andi—I give you my blessing to marry my daughter.”

I gasp and Jenny squeezes my hand. Momma and Daddy are suddenly by my side and Daddy says, “And you both have our blessing, as well. We always knew there was something special about you, Andi. Now, we know what.”

Melody smiles and says, “George and Belinda, why don’t we let the kids have their dance? I’m sure that you’re hungry after two years of sleep!”

Before anyone can say anything, there is a ‘pop’ and they’re gone!

As for what happens the rest of the night: We dance and kiss it away—two girls in total and undying love.

As forever after…

Well, let’s just say…that’s not PG-rated!