Previously...

I pulled up the skirt and then put on the blouse.

My hair got tangled up a bit under the blouse and I pulled it out. Then, looking at the mirror I could see that my hair needed a serious brushing. Picking up my brush I went to it with a will and after a few minutes my hair was untangled and going down to the middle of my back. It was long and very straight and felt strangely heavy on my head.

There were some sandals by the bed and I put them on. Then I was ready to go downstairs.

I sat on the bed.

I was feeling a bit wimpy. Would they laugh at me? They would probably think that I was beyond stupid for what I had done.

I sighed. I would have to get it over with.

I took one more look in the mirror. Was I prettier than Sarah? Now that would get up her nose. Maybe there was something good to come out of this mess!

And now the story continues…

As I walked in the kitchen there was only one other person in there and it had to be my darling sister.

I nearly turned around and walked out. I had sort of hoped that she was still at her friend’s place, but no, there she was, sitting at the kitchen table eating some toast, reading one of her girlie magazines, Teen Witch I think. She was in mid-bite as I walked in.

I smiled weakly and went over to the fridge, pulling out some milk. Then I got the box of Weetabix and a bowl. I had just put two Weetabix's in the bowl and I turned around and caught sight of her face. Her gob was truly smacked.

I put the bowl down, brushed the hair away from my face yet again and waited for the derisory scorn.

After putting the milk on the serial I picked up the spoon and looked down, my hair curtaining my face in a most disconcerting way. I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes started watering. Tears plopped on the milk in the serial bowl like raindrops on a pond.

I felt movement and then I was being held tightly. It was my sister! She was hugging me and crying with me.

‘Oh Daniel, I'm so sorry.'

‘Sorry?' I sniffed.

‘Yea, sorry that I've been a cow to you all your life. It must be so hard turning into a girl. I can't imagine suddenly turning into a boy. That would be gross; it must be the same for you the other way around. We are sisters now, and I want to help all I can …'

I gently pulled away from her and looked at her face, not knowing whether she was playing mind games with me or something. Maybe she had been changed into a pod person or something–no, the tears were genuine and I could see that she really cared.

I hugged her again and we sort of bonded at that point and I realised that my hated enemy was now my loving sister. I couldn't explain it, but it was one of those Kodak moments that people talk about.

After we unhooked, we sat there quietly eating our breakfasts. I had so much to say to her and her to me, I think, but it was a bit like strangers getting to know each other in a way and we were, I think, unaccountably shy.

We finished breakfast just as Mum came in.

‘You look nice dear,' she said, coming over and giving me a hug.

‘Do I?'

‘Yes; you two could almost be twins, you're so alike now.'

I didn't know if I could ever get used to being called pretty. Pretty insignificant or pretty awful yes, but just pretty-mmm, not sure about that one.

But Sarah's pretty and if I look like her, maybe I am pretty–what a disturbing thought.

‘Come on you two, family meeting time.'

Sarah looked at me and grimaced. Family meetings normally meant that one or other of us were in trouble. We followed Mum out of the kitchen, through the living room and then into the large conservatory.

Dad was there together with Granny. Neither of the them looked deliriously happy …

Daddy was reading the paper and looked up.

“Daddy”, where did that come from?

‘Bloody hell,’ he said as he saw me clearly.

‘Ronald; language.’

‘Sorry Mother,' he said to Granny.

He got up and came over to me. I must admit, wearing a short skirt was a bit drafty and I couldn't quite get used to the feeling of being almost undressed …

‘Daniel, you look erm, great … I mean, look I can't call you Daniel. Have you decided on a name?'

‘That is one of the things we'll discuss,’ said Mum.

‘Right, grab a seat and let's get started. We have a lot of decisions to make and not much time to make them. Mother, do you want to set the ball rolling?'

Everyone turned to Granny, who was knitting, not a good, sign. She carried on doing her thing with the needles as she spoke; she was pretty good at multitasking.

'I have contacted the Coven and we are of one mind …’

‘Did you, send some sort of telepathic message?' I asked.

'No, we had a video conference on our computers.'

'Oh,' I said and then shut up. I evidently had a lot to learn.

‘We feel that the General Council of Covens will have to get involved. Also, I will put a protection spell on everyone here. It's unlikely that Daniel will be targeted again, because these sorts of spell are usually targeted at those who are unwary. Still we cannot afford to take any chances, agreed?’

We all nodded. It made sense after all and in any case, Granny's word was the law.

‘Now we turn to what we should do for Daniel, have you decided on a name yet?'

All eyes were on me. 'Erm, no; Mum what would you called me if I had been born a girl?'

'A miracle–no sorry, my sense of humour. We were going to call you Danielle.'

'I don't want to call myself that. It’s too close to my present one, how about erm,’ a name popped into my head, ‘Selene?’

‘Why that name, child?’ asked Granny.

‘I … I don’t know, it just popped into my head.’

The others looked at me.

‘Interesting,’ said Granny, ‘The name means, in Greek mythology, the goddess of the Moon. It is a powerful name. I have no objections anyone else?’

Mum and Dad looked at each other and shook their heads. Sarah just shrugged and looked like she wanted to be elsewhere. She didn’t like family meetings and considered them to be beneath her. She might be my loving sister now, but I didn’t believe that leopards change their spots and I wasn’t holding my breath about her change of attitude to me.

Then she sniffed, looked at me and said, ‘The same initials as me. Why wasn’t I called Selene and then he … she could be Sarah?’

‘Sarah is a good name, a strong one,’ said Mummy.

"Why am I thinking of her as Mummy, am I girly inside? I must fight it. Next thing you know, I might start loving pink and having soft toys on my bed!"

‘ ‘Snot fair!’

‘Oh, grow up Sarah,’ snapped Granny as she clicked away at her knitting and looked like one of those women who liked to knit while people’s heads were lopped off on the guillotine sort of like Madame Lefog–Defrog or or something from that Tale Of Twin Cities. Then she looked at me, put her knitting down. Standing; she came over and put her hand on my head. ‘Daniel Myers; henceforth and forever, you will now be Selene Myers. May you live, love and prosper. So mote it be.’

‘Now, said Mummy in a business like tone, ‘The GCC and our coven will look after the magic stuff, but we need to talk about more Earthly matters, like school.’

‘School?’ I asked.

‘Yes school. I have already contacted the head mistress of St Vlad’s, who will want to see you on Monday morning with a view to allowing you to join the school.’

‘What about my old school?’

Mummy looked amused. ‘That’s a good one. If you turn up looking like that, what do you think might happen?’

‘Oh.’ I said, realising that things were getting complicated. The thought of being disembowelled after turning up at school, all sort of girlieficationated seemed to lack any attraction to me.

‘Yes, as you say–Oh.’

I was still having a lot of trouble about this girl thing. I was a boy inside and I knew it. All right, it appeared that I was good looking as a girl, but the thought of being a girl, with all those female type hormones sloshing about inside, made me feel slightly nauseous. Some of the boys at school, admittedly slightly older, boasted and bragged about getting into girls’ panties. This put a whole new meaning to that for me.

Now it looked as if I was going to go to St Vlad’s, with all those weirdo’s like vamps, werewolves, ghosts and other assorted strange type beings and it sort of creeped me out. Okay, I was jealous of Sister Dear, and the fact that she went to a boarding school, but that jealousy was based on the fact that she had able to have something and do something that was not allowed for me. Now I was in the position to actually go there, it didn’t seem such a good idea.

You see, I admit it. I hate ghosts and things that go bump in the night. All right, everyone knows that ghosts are a reality. When you pop off and die, especially if it’s a violent type of death, it often happens that you don’t go away, spiritually that is. Sometimes children are killed and they stay around as ghosts. Even if you are a ghost, you still have to go to school. The fact that these kids don’t grow any older is a bit of a downer, but that’s life–or death in the case of ghosts.

My aversion to bumpy things started when I was a kid. We had a ‘geist and he was bad, very bad and used to wake me up at night scare the living daylights out of me. You try sleeping when a ‘geist throws Lego at you and there was one time when he tipped my potty...

I shuddered.

The poltergeist was banished after that. I didn’t know how my parents did it, but he was gone. Mind you, they looked very battered and bruised for days afterwards, so I assumed that the nasty thing didn’t leave quietly. It still left me feeling terrified that it or some other horror might return.

Then there are the vamps. I didn’t know too much about them or werewolves for that matter, we didn’t mix much and Sarah never talks about her friends at school so for all I know she could be blood sister with some of them.

What I do know is, bitten as children, vampires stay children and the rule is the same for them as the ghosts, they go to school and stay there. Witches are different. We do grow old, but it takes a long time, so we have to go to school for a long time too, but not as long as vamps and ghosts. It all sounds a bit confusing but there you are.

I couldn’t see much point in ever-child like beings having to stay at school. What was the point? Maybe that was the only way to keep them out of trouble.

Werewolves have the normal human life span and so stay at school until 21 and then go off into the wide world, which for them meant being close to the wild.

Luckily, St Vlad’s do not cater to imps, goblins, leprechauns, elves and fairies; otherwise it might get a bit complicated …

‘Selene …’

‘What, who me?’

‘Yes you. Away with the fairies were you?’ asked Mummy.

"There I was thinking the “M” word again. I–must–fight–it."

‘Sorry.’

‘I was saying, we need to get you some clothes, but for now, you can borrow your sister’s …’

‘No she can’t. That is totally gross. I’m not having an ex-boy wearing my clothes. Next thing would be is if she wants to put on my panties …’

‘She will not be wearing any under clothes of yours that you have used, young lady. I happen to know that you have some new panties and bras still in the packets and they will be given to Selene and I will replace them for you when we go shopping.’

‘They aren’t pink are they?’ I asked, shuddering inwardly.

‘Some are and I believe there are lemon ones and some in baby blue and, I think a few white ones, not forgetting one purple pair …’

I shuddered–I was doing a lot of that.

‘Can’t I be a tomboy?’ I asked hopefully.

‘No child from this house will dress inappropriately …’

‘... jeans and t-shirts are worn by girls, Mummy …’

‘Oooh, she’s Mummy’s girl now,’ said Sarah sarcastically.

‘If you have nothing constructive to say Sarah, maybe you would like to wash the dishes for the next three weeks?’

‘No problemo, Mummy dear. I’ll just wave my finger …’

‘I mean the normal way. I will not have you using magic for things like that. It’s a gift.’

‘You do it,’ retorted Sarah, going red in the face. I could almost hear the teenaged angst hormones bubbling up and wondered if I would have ‘an attitude’ like that soon. I noticed in passing that Daddy had sneaked out at some point. I know that he didn’t like the sight of blood and I didn’t blame him.

Granny had again picked up her knitting and ignored the row going on around her. She had that sort of zoned, out of this world, Zen look that she had perfected over the years. As a family, we had these mad times and as she didn’t like to interfere with my parents dragging us up so she tended to keep out of it, wherever possible.

‘Why should she get preferential treatment? When I ask for new clothes, I’m told no. When I want a makeover, I’m told no and anyway, Sarah, you are too young. Why is she getting everything? It ’snot fair, I never get what I want …’

So Sarah went off on one. Her ranting wasn’t that unusual for a spoilt brat. She had been the daughter, the chosen one and I had been a mere boy and bottom of the pecking order. Anger came up from somewhere just above my belly button and then sort of went through my body. I was getting fed up with this. Did no one see that this was highly traumatic for me? Here I was, looking all–girly, wearing a skirt, blouse and under things that were downright pervy for a boy and she was raving like someone had stolen her birthright!

Something went ping inside my head and suddenly it happened.

Mummy–damn it–Mum, had a lovely Welsh Dresser. On that dresser was her finest china. We only used the crockery on high days and holidays and she spent many an hour cleaning it. She once found a chip on one of the dainty cups and she went into mourning for three months.

As I went ping, every plate, cup, saucer and other sundry items of crockery exploded into tiny fragments with a loud bang.

We were all covered in white dust and the whole kitchen looked like it had just snowed crockery.

‘Oops,’ I said, putting my hand delicately to my mouth.

Sarah looked gobsmacked and stopped talking–which was a bonus in my eyes. Mummy started whimpering and looking at the scene of destruction. She had this funny tick on her face …

Granny continued knitting, which was seriously weird. She had this kind of smile on her face and then she looked at me and raised her left eyebrow.

Somehow I knew that I had probably overreacted to my sister’s little temper tantrum. I closed my eyes and put my fingers in my ears as they were assaulted by the whimpering noise coming from the parental unit and then I imagined in my mind’s eye what the dresser looked like before the unfortunate ‘incident’.

There was a sort of sucking, whooshing noise that I could hear even though my ears were finger-blocked and it felt like a vacuum cleaner was sucking at my head and clothes. I kept my eyes closed and tried to concentrate on the dresser before everything went pear shaped and then as suddenly as the Hoover thing started, it stopped.

I opened one eye and then the other. Everything was back to normal, the crockery was back in place and all with white powder and flakes had gone. The only white flakes that I could see was the dandruff on Sarah’s shoulders as she scowled at me.

‘Oh great, she’s even got more powers than me. It ’snot fair …’

The inevitable happened and Sarah was banished up to her room and then peace descended again, Peace downstairs, but not upstairs as I could hear doors banging and some cursing, together with tears and tantrums–all part of the normal thing for Sarah.

Mummy said nothing. She still looked shell shocked. She got up, went over to the dresser and started fingering various items. She then went to the cup on the end, the one with the slight chip and picked it up.

Gasping, she turned to me and said. ‘There’s no chip!’

‘That’s nice.’ I said not knowing what sort of response she was expecting.

Granny put her knitting down; she must have knitted at least another yard of sock while we had been sitting there.

‘Selene, you must learn to control the power. That is why you shall go to St Vlad’s. Also, it is right and proper that you go shopping not only with your mother, but also Sarah, who knows better than old fuddy-duddies like us about what the current trends are. Sarah will have to be sweetened by the promise of a few things for herself. You would also benefit from a makeover and your nails are a disgrace–stop chewing your nails, it’s unladylike.’

‘But I’m not a lady Granny.’

‘No, but some day you will be. So don’t chew your nails.’

I expected Mummy, "oh hell there I go again," to say something after that remark about old fuddy-duddies, but she still looked shell shocked and it was a bit gross and indecent that she was actually stroking that damned cup in a rather strange and suggestive manner and was ignoring what Granny was saying.

I wanted to say something about what had just happened, you know, the exploding china thingy. Then Daddy walked in.

‘Heard a noise, everything all right?’

‘Selene just exploded all the china and then brought it back together again.’

‘Did she? Good girl, erm, I just have to go and check the oil …’

He wondered out again, looking vague. That’s my Father; I sometimes think that he isn’t always with us …

Daddy had gone, Sarah was sulking and banging furniture about in her room, and Mummy was away with the fairies. Granny was left as the only relatively sane person in the room. I wasn’t sane, but how could I be? I was a boy in a girl’s body.

I needed to talk about the china thing, but felt reluctant. You know like when someone farts in class and everyone looks guilty and doesn’t want to say anything. In this case it wasn’t a flatulence situation, but it was rather embarrassing.

Mummy had by now decided to dust her china; she wasn’t going to be much help for a while so I turned to Granny. ‘Erm Granny?’

‘You wish to talk about what just happened?’

‘How do you do that?’

‘What?’

‘That mind reading thing.’

‘Practice, you will do it one day. You seem very powerful. The fact that you exploded the china was impressive, especially as you didn’t even have to lift a finger, but that you were able to return everything back was quite–unusual.’

‘Can’t all witches do that?’

‘No and certainly not without a spell or incant and that is why, I repeat, you will have to go to St Vlad’s. You need to control the power; otherwise you could be a danger to yourself and others.’

I thought for a moment, thinking what it would be like to explode the head of someone–maybe Sister Dear? No, I wouldn’t do that. I hate her, but I love the doofus too. No I didn’t want any sort of exploding head situations; it could be messy and embarrassing, mind you there was this boy at school who once–no, twice put my head down the toilet and then flushed it. Now that’s a thought …

‘Selene …’

‘Who, what, me? Oh sorry Granny, did you say something?’

‘Yes, pay attention dear. You need to focus. Now this is what you should do …’

She stopped and looked at Mummy who was now kissing a plate for some reason and frowned. ‘Catherine, go and take one of your pills and have a lie down.’

Mummy looked up and smiled vacantly.

‘Go–now.’

She put the plate down reluctantly, gave it a quick stroke with her finger and got up. ‘I think that I’ll go and take a pill and lie down.’

‘You do that dear.’

She gave us another one of those ‘I’m not really here’ smiles and exited stage left.

‘Granny.’ I asked as she fussed about, made a cup of herbal tea for both of us and then sat down next to me again.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Yes, but put your knees together when you sit and stop scratching your breast, it’s not the done thing.’

‘But they itch.’

‘Perfectly normal, get used to it. Now what do you want to know?’

I had always been close to my granny. She was sort of on my wave length. I was less embarrassed talking to her than the rest of my dysfunctional family.

‘Erm, will I get–you know?’

‘Know what?’ she asked sipping her tea.

‘Umm, erm …can’t you read my mind?’

‘Not always, get it off your chest and stop scratching there, while you are at it.’

‘Sorry,’ I said taking my hand away from the offending orb, ‘will I get–I mean, when Sarah is really, really bad, she blames it on her um, periods, time of the month, whatever. Will I have them?’

‘Of course, all girls do when they reach a certain age, and I see no reason why you won’t.’

‘That’s totally gross! They did a thing at school and showed us slides. One kid was sick all over his desk and another–well, I won’t go into that. It was about the birds and the bees and they showed what boys did to girls and girls did to boys and then they showed us the results–babies being born. Then they went into what boys and girls go through in puberty and the grossest thing was periods. Are you sure that I will get them?’

‘I am afraid so. Get used to it you are a girl now and girls have perfectly normal bodily functions and periods just happen to be one of them.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘Don’t swear.’

‘Sorry Granny.’

I lay in bed that night thinking about all that had happened. It still felt strange going to bed in a nightdress and having to brush my hair a hundred times. I even had to put cream on my face to stop it turning prune-like by the morning.

Tomorrow I was going to have to visit the shopping centre to get clothes. I was also going to have this mythical makeover thing and I wondered if I would survive the experience. Sarah came up and gave me a kiss and a hug before I went to bed. Of course she had an ulterior motive as it appears that she would be happy to help me choose some clothes as she herself would be able to have some. She even gave me one of her stuffed bunnies so I wouldn’t be all alone that night. It was, of course, pink.

I had no idea where Bracken, my cat was. I had hoped that she would keep me company tonight but she was out clubbing with her friends.

So it was just me and the fluffy pink bunny–what joy.

To Be Continued...

My thanks go to the lovely and talented Holly Hart for editing, and pulling the story into shape.

Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue

Shameless Plug
If you are enjoying this story, The original Penmarris story - Changes Book 1 is now available on Kindle:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006NZFWG8 (US)
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Changes-ebook/dp/B006NZFWG8/ref=sr_1... (UK)

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