“Natalie: Do you remember our visit to our parents and Kate? Do you remember when I talked to them, Mom specifically? Do you remember what she said to me? She told me about you, and how in elementary school, you cried because you thought you were ugly. She said she tells that story every time you call yourself ugly. EVERY TIME.

Nathan, how many times has that happened? Why do you think you’re ugly?”

Nathan’s fingers rested on the volume buttons on the phone, rubbing them back and forth. He reached with his other hand and took a swig of that sweet cherry flavor of his potion.

Then he pressed the volume buttons and began speaking.

“Nathan: Look, you know how mothers are. They always exaggerate things, make everything sound worse than it actually is. I can promise you, everything is fine. I was a teenager back then, and… teenagers always have low self esteem. Well, maybe not all of them but a lot of them, it’s perfectly normal. It’s an awkward time for everybody, and besides, I haven’t thought I was ugly in a long time.

Have you ever thought you were ugly? I know you have. I caught this memory of yours from being you all this time. You were a freshman in high school, and being in the locker room that first cheerleading practice made you insecure and jealous. So you cried at home because you thought you were ugly, and then Mom came in and assured you that you are beautiful, and just as pretty as the other girls. She told you that negative thoughts like that just bring you down for no reason, and help no one. So you came in the next day with a better mood.

What? You don’t like me bringing that up? I bet you don’t. So don’t bring up some stupid shit about me thinking I was ugly when I was fucking seven to insinuate that I want to be a woman. I don’t, okay? I don’t want to be a woman. I am NOT a woman and never will be, so stop saying I am. I did not go through four fucking weeks of turning into fuck meat for the most disgusting man in the world just to be told that I wanted to be a woman all along, which Astian wouldn’t even have known about anyway! Do you think he wouldn’t have made me like being his girlfriend? He literally made me forget myself, he could’ve done fucking anything he wanted!

I am a man, do you understand? A male. Or do I have to repeat that five hundred more fucking times until you finally get it through your thick skull? I am not going to sit here and let you tell me that I’m some sort of fucking fag!”

Nathan immediately threw the phone at the wall, where it hit with a loud SMACK, then fell to the floor. He flinched at the noise, worrying he may have accidentally woken someone up. Standing up, he walked over and inspected the dent it created, feeling the chipped paint.

He saw himself in the mirror. His face was red, his breathing was heavy, and he swore he could see his fast heartbeat in his reflection.

He looked mad. A mad man who just yelled and cussed at a woman who tried to reach out to him. Like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

He called her fuck meat. The phone had recorded all of it.

The lump in his throat formed as his eyes began tearing up. He reached down to grab the phone, bringing it near his mouth again.

“I’m sorry Natalie, I- I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to call you that. You’re not fuck meat. I’m so sorry. That was really mean. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I lose control sometimes. It’s just… I mean, I don’t know if you’re right but you might be and that scares me. I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to feel like I’m resisting, but I don’t want to give in. It’s so hard.

…

You know, there was this one time, in my second year of college, where I was alone in my dorm room just doing some homework, then suddenly I was breathing heavy and on the floor. I didn’t know what was wrong but I couldn’t stop it. I felt like I was dying and… and I wanted it to stop. I didn’t know why my body was doing this and I hated it. I felt so ugly and it was like I was being crushed. I just wanted some help. I wanted to scream. I was dying.

…I guess drinking made me forget I was ugly.

When my body was changing, when Astian kept harassing me and pestering me. When he groped and grabbed me, I hated it. But I also wanted it. I don’t know, it was like something deep inside me wanted it and liked it. And that made me feel more disgusting than he ever could. If I really did want it, then how can I say what he did was wrong?

How can I even tell this is real? What if this is messing with my memories and making me remember things that didn’t happen? What if it’s just the magic acting up and making me want this? What if the magic is fucking with my memories too? I can’t trust anything, and I hate it.

I hate it so much.

…

I was so lonely. Astian was my only friend.

I trusted him.”

Nathan sniffed and stopped the recording, dropping his phone to the floor and his head to his hands. He rubbed at his eyes to try and contain the oncoming flood.

“I just want to be normal.” He whimpered between sobs.

He wanted to see Sara again. But he wanted it somewhere that felt real. He couldn’t bear the fakeness anymore.

He shakily reached out his hand to grab the potion bottle, taking his last sip of it before laying it down. He threw his face down on his bed and sobbed into the sheets, up until his tears ran dry.

On his night stand rested that potion bottle, fallen on its side, completely empty.