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...

The Power

by

Susan Brown

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.

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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II had this dream. I had changed into a girl, a witch in fact. It was so real. I wasn’t a boy any longer. I had budding breasts and a slit where my Percy Pointer used to be. My hair was long and I was, of all things pretty...

The Power

by

Susan Brown

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.

And now the story continues…

I had this dream. I had changed into a girl, a witch in fact. It was so real. I wasn’t a boy any longer. I had budding breasts and a slit where my Percy Pointer used to be. My hair was long and I was, of all things pretty.

My sister hated me even more now and she was strangling me in my bed as she hissed that she was the only cool chick around and she want about to let me muscle in.

There as a tapping noise coming from somewhere as Sarah kept throttling me and hissing ‘’snot fair.’

The tapping grew louder and I opened my eyes.

The moonlight was streaming through my bedroom and the curtains were drawn back. My satin nightdress had ridden up and was around my neck. My hair was all over my face and I sneezed as it tickled my nose.

I had been sleeping on my back as my budding breasts were itchy and sore and this was the best position for comfort–if you could call two tennis balls on your chest comfortable.

On top of that, to add insult to injury, I was clutching a very pink, very fluffy, stuffed bunny rabbit.

So, I was a girl and this wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare.

The tapping continued and I looked over at the window.

I had a sharp intake of breath situation when I saw, in the moonlight a bat, sort of hovering like some sort of horrendous leather winged ugly humming bird, hitting the window with its bat like, wings.

‘Oh great.’ I thought, ‘that’s all I need, bats!’

Then something incredible happened. The window swung open. I have no idea how as I was sure that I had locked and secured it when I went to bed. I am not paranoid or anything, but I always check the doors and windows and look under the bed before I go to sleep, a boy–I mean girl had to be careful and there were a lot of weird things and beings out there. The fact that I was now a weird being, we will put aside for the moment …

The bat flew in, its leathery wings flapping loudly and I bravely made an ‘eek’ type noise and dived under the covers with the rabbit–it may have only been a stuffed rabbit, but they say that there is safety in numbers. My reason for the head in the sand type manoeuvre, such as it was, was that if I couldn’t see it, then it couldn’t see me.

There was a sort of whooshing noise and then a cough.

It didn’t sound like a bat’s cough, although I had no experience of what a bat’s cough would sound like. I imagined that a bat, if it coughed at all, would sound a bit thinner and not so loud–let’s face it, they aren’t large in the size department.

There was another cough.

Do bats get colds?

‘Excuse me.’

Now that didn’t sound like a bat. They make those squeaky type noises, I think; something to do with radar or something.

‘Daniel?’

That made me sit up and I gasped as there before me was a startlingly pale but very pretty girl with long black hair, wearing long white flowing robes. She had switched on the bedside light and stood there looking at me.

I looked around for a bat, but we appeared to be in a bat free zone.

‘Erm,’ I said, ‘where’s the bat?’

‘That’s me.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m the bat, that is, that’s what form I have to take when I go for a flight. Although, I have to be careful as I’m still a learner. More than once, I’ve fallen base over apex or rather as my friend Clarissa rather crudely put it, arse over tits. Landings can be a bit difficult, especially with a following wind.’

‘Oh, so you a, um …’

‘Vampire? Yes, that’s me, ‘have fang will travel’.’

I clutched the bunny tightly–she didn’t seem to mind.

‘So, erm, are you here to erm, bite me and make me swoon?’

‘Swooning is optional, but I’m not here for a snack. I had to come and see you. You are Daniel, aren’t you?’

‘Well I was, I’m Selene now.’

‘Cool name; well I heard it on the bat-vine at St Vlads …’

‘Bat-vine?’

‘It’s a cooler name that grape-vine. Anyway, I heard that you had changed from Daniel to a girl type witch.’

‘As you can see, I’ve been girliefied.’

‘You make it sound like you have some dreaded disease.’

‘I have.’

‘Well, I think it’s cool. I was erm, girliefied too. Do you recognise me?’

I leaned forward. There was something about her …

‘I think I know you, but I can’t quite …’

‘I was Stewart Dobbs.’

‘Stewart? Is that you?’

‘Yup.’

I had been friends with Stewart at school. Then he disappeared after a dance at the school and no one knew where he went.

‘So how come you are a blood sucking vampire now?’

‘That’s a bit heavy. We prefer the term vamp. Well, I went to the dance and a gorgeous bird hit on me. I thought my luck was in and things got heavy. I sort of did the swooning thing and the next thing I knew was that I had turned into a vamp girl.’

‘You didn’t die then?’

‘No, as you can see. I’m alive, permanently.’

‘I thought that vampires sucked their victims dry and left them dead, with hideous looks on their faces where they had gone through pain and agony before falling lifeless to the floor, bed or whatever.’

‘You’re kidding aren’t you? What films have you been looking at? It’s nothing like that. I blame that Bram Stoker bloke. What he knew about us vamps, you could write on a postage stamp with room left over.’

‘So you don’t kill indiscriminately in a lust for blood?’

‘Course not. We normally drink syntho-blood, but when we get really peckish, we snack on people. We never take too much. Think of it like cows.’

‘Cows?’ my mind boggling as to what cows had to do with it.

‘Yea, you get milk from cows right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you don’t kill the cows do you? You come back and milk them again and again, that’s what you do when you want some blood; you take enough but not too much and come back again and again. The beauty of it is, the donor or bite-ee doesn’t remember a thing and in fact our saliva gives them life health, well being and vitamin V.’

Talk of saliva made me feel a bit sick. I was after all a weak girl now and was surprised that I hadn’t swooned myself.

‘So, why did you remember, after you were bitten, I mean.’

‘Well,’ she said sitting on the bed. ‘Clarissa–she’s the doofus who entrapped me–and I had a heavy, tonsil tickling French kiss. Her fangs grew a bit longer when she got all excited and she bit her lip. I sucked in some of her blood and she of course had a bit of a suck on me. Our blood mingled and instead of me just being a normal bite-ee I got changed into a vamp and for good measure, I changed sex too, so here I am, Jessica, beautiful, dark haired beauty who just happens to be a bat flying vampire.’

‘Quite modest then?’

‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it. So do you like being a girl?’

‘No.’

She looked shocked.

‘Why not? I think its ace.’

‘I’m a boy …’

‘Not from where I’m sitting.’

‘Well a boy inside. I never meant for this to happen.’

I told her all that had happened and she looked suitably impressed.

‘So you actually exploded crockery and then sort of pulled it back together?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well cool! That is mega-ace. There are girls at St Vlad’s, witch girls I mean, who get in a tizzy doing the most simple of spells. Your sister is … well, never mind that, we don’t all have a great talent. Anyway, you did all that without waving your fingers about or doing an incant thingy?’

‘Mmm–what was that you said about my sister?’

‘Never mind that, this is about you not her. Being a girl is great. Believe me, I thought the same as you for a very short while, but now I am so glad that I’m not that spotty, angst ridden nobody called Stewart. I wear lovely clothes, have great friends. I get to fly about without the use of a plane and the feeling I get when warm blood slides down my throat …’

‘Please, that sounds gross.’

Sorry, got carried away there. You will go to St Vlad’s of course …’

‘Not sure about that. I have to have an interview with some head mistress.’

‘You Mean Miss Isabel Sidegraves?’

‘Is that her name?’

‘Yes, she’s okay. Likes to quote rules at you all the time and her history of The Occult is booooring, but she’s all right unless you get her on a bad day.’

‘Bad day?

‘That’s right, that’s every day with the letter ‘d’ in it.’

‘Oh.’ I said, not knowing whether she was kidding me or not.

‘So, do you fancy boys?’

‘Gross, no way. That is sick!’

‘Girls?’

‘Yes–well I did before I became this.’ I waved vaguely at my feminine like body.

Mind you, I had led a sheltered life. Being as we are–a Wiccan family, it had always been the way that we didn’t get involved too much with ‘Norms’.’

Dad explained it to me when we had the fairies and goblins talk–as compared to the birds and bees one at school.

‘Picture it if you can. One of us makes mad passionate love to a norm and we get all excited. Wiccans have certain defences against harming one another whilst making erm, love. Norms don’t have that defence, and in the past there have been horrific ‘incidents.’ One Wiccan girl once turned her prince into a frog …’

All this made me jealous at school where some boys bragged about the length of their tool and the amount of times that they had ‘done it’. They were probably bragging, but it didn’t help me to feel very secure.

Anyway, I was brought back down from la-la land by Jessica who had this dreamy look on her face.

‘My boy friend, Oscar is lovely.’

‘Oscar?’

‘Mmm, he’s my dream boat. We met one night in the woods. I crashed into him in bat mode. He was doing loop-de-loop’s and I didn’t see him. By the time we untangled our wings and morphed back to human type form, I was in love.’

‘Love, at your age?’

‘I’m 14 and will be forever and he is 15 and has muscles in all the right places. His fangs are ever so long …’

I shuddered and then shrugged. Who was I to judge?

Just then we both jumped as my door creaked open and there, framed in the erm, frame– was Sarah!

‘What’s going on?’ she asked as she rubbed her eyes sleepily.

I almost didn’t recognise her. She was wearing some sort of flimsy baby doll nightie that left little to the imagination. Normally she was almost Goth-like and was into black, grey and earthy colours. This ‘thing’ she was wearing was a sunny yellow colour and I nearly grabbed my sun glasses. We didn’t need additional light in the room as the glare off the fabric was equal to at least a kilowatt.

‘Hi Sarah,’ said Jessica as if there was nothing unusual in the appearance of ‘Sister Dear’.

She sort of squinted at Jessica.

‘Hi Jes, what are you doing here?’

‘Just popped in for a chat. Where are your glasses?’

‘Glasses–she doesn’t wear glasses.’ I said.

‘She does at school.’

Sarah looked, or rather, peered at me.

‘I wear contacts at home, but take them out at bed time.’

That was something else I didn’t know about her. Hidden depths, my sister and all of them shallow.

She wafted in and sat on the bed. ‘Mum woke me up with her snoring. I don’t know how Dad can take it.’

‘I think that Dad uses ear plugs.’ I said.

That figures, I think that I might get some. I need eight hours beauty sleep or I’m ratty in the morning. So Jes,’ she said yawning again, ‘you just happened to pop by. How did you know that my bro is now my sis?’

‘Oh, someone told someone else, and I just happened overhear.’

‘Liar.’

‘Sarah, Sarah, don’t get your frillies in a twist. All right, I was outside the Head’s study and I just happened to have my ear to the keyhole when I overheard a telephone conversation, and as it was on the speakerphone, I could hear everything. Daniel and I were mates at our old school and as it looked like a similar thing happened to her as it did me, I thought that it would be nice to have a chat.’

‘Well, don’t you go getting her in trouble at school. I will be blamed, I always am.’

‘It’s always about you.’ I said. ‘What about me?’

‘What about you?’

‘In the last 24 hours, I have gone from being a manly male …’

She snorted for some reason, but I continued, ‘… I have, as I say changed from a perfectly normal boy to this.’

I waved my hand at my scantily clad form. ‘All I wanted was to taste The Power for a little while and then turn back to Daniel. Instead, I have breasts that are huge, melon sized, and itch like crazy; a bum that looks decidedly bigger than before, curves where I didn’t have curves before; a disgustingly cute button nose rather than the handsome masculine hooter that was there before, and to add insult to injury, my Percy and two little walnuts have gone walkabout and I have this decidedly poorly designed slit and fold feature that seems to have been designed by a moron,. I mean, how is it when I do a wee, it makes a mess everywhere? And then, added to that, I have hormones, female ones, raging around my body, making me want to cry all the time; anger management issues that will only get worse when, joy of joy, I get periods. So if you want to know how I feel, I think it stinks!’

I had that funny feeling just behind my belly button again and suddenly, the bulb on my bedside table popped and somehow the wood in my fireplace spontaneously combusted. Then I found myself floating on the ceiling frantically trying to hold my nightie down so I wasn’t showing something naughty. It took an active will thing for me to float back down onto the bed.

By this time I was crying and I was surprised that I had a double hug. I let it all out and had a good cry and funnily enough I felt a bit better afterwards. Even Sarah was being nice to me and that made me cry even more. Being a girl was hard work!

Eventually everything quietened down and we all sat on the floor and covered ourselves with my duvet. The extra padding on my nether regions helped, and the floor didn’t seem that hard. At last something good about being female.

So we just sat there, all snugly under the covers and watched the flames go up the chimney. Strangely, enough the embers didn’t go down but stayed the same all the time. Normally you had to keep feeding the flames.

I wasn’t surprised at what happened, weird things seemed to go on around me now. The others didn’t think it was out of the ordinary either, and said that all sorts of unusual things happened at school and what had happened in my bedroom would be seen as tame compared to certain incidents at St Vlad’s.

At one point Jessica pulled out something from the nether regions of the long white robe she was wearing–it was a flask. She poured out something that looked a bit like red grape juice into the screwed cup and then drank deeply.

‘Is that erm, juice?’ I asked.

‘Nope, syntho-blood. I was feeling a bit peckish.’

‘Blimey.’ I said. I changed the subject. ‘I’m thirsty.’

‘No problem.’ Sarah waved her finger a couple of times, making sparks come out. In seconds two cups and saucers were in front of us, full of steaming tea. I blanched whiter than Jessica as I recognised the cups as beings Mums ‘special ones’.

‘She’ll kill us if she catches us drinking out of those,’ I said with understandable alarm.

‘Nah, she’s drugged up to her eyeballs. Granny spiked her cocoa. She would sleep through doom.’

I wasn’t happy with the thought of any harm coming to the crockery and the resultant hysterics from Mum, so I was very, very careful not to cause any damage. I didn’t think that I would be able to repeat the trick of putting broken, smashed or exploded china back together again.

‘So what’s it like at St Vlad’s?’ I asked when I had placed both sets of china safely out of harms way.

‘We can’t say,’ said Sarah and Jessica together.

‘Why not?’ I asked.

‘Until you are enrolled, there is a veil of secrecy,’ Said Jessica.

‘You already told me who the head mistress is.’

‘That’s common knowledge, just buy a copy of Unseen Times or even Teen Witch and you will see her mentioned in there. But you will never get any juicy information about the school. There is a security blanket over the place. Anyone from the school; pupils or staff can’t say anything. If we do, strange things happen. The whole place is charmed.’

‘So?’

Sarah sighed and then said, ‘by charmed we mean hexed, spell bound and other magical things. There is serious magic there and nobody wants to be turned into a slug or a toad, so we all keep schtum. Anyway, the norm papers would have field day if one of the trashy tabloids got hold of information about the place.’

‘So neither of you can tell me anything?’

‘Nope, we would be found out; walls have ears?’ said Jessica mysteriously.

Nothing would surprise me. I tried another tack. ‘How come you are allowed out at night?’

‘When I’m not at school I’m with Mummy and Daddy. They never have a clue as to what is going on. They would sleep through doom. It helps if I give them a teeny, weeny bite before I go walkabout or flyabout. It sends them to sleep.’

Just at that moment we could hear a reverberating deep sound–it was Mum, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead, or semi-dead. Dad, with his industrial strength ear plugs, slept blissfully while Mum shook the house with her snoring.

Sarah looked at Jessica and said, ‘Fancy a quick bite?’

We all giggled and I was disturbed at how girlie I sounded.

We talked until just before dawn; Jessica and I that is. Sarah fell asleep pretty quickly. She wasn’t a night person really, so she would have been crap at doing the vampire thing. I was too excited to sleep, and Jessica didn’t seem to need any. Probably a side effect of vampirism.

At one point I asked what it was like being, erm, her.

‘It’s cool really. You get to stay up at night even at school. The flying is well cool, the only downer being that when you de-bat, you morph back wearing these less than cool clothes. I’m not into white diaphanous robes, but I think that’s it’s a hang-up from previous times. I’m happier with blouses and tees. The amount of times I’ve tripped over the damned hem of this robe. One cool thing though, is that it never gets dirty. A good thing really, as I spend some time in cemeteries and they are full of earth and dirty stuff.

‘Cemeteries? Why?’

‘It’s a vamp thing; we have to lie down on fresh earth in a cemetery once in a while. I’m not sure of the technicalities, but it sort of recharges our batteries.’

‘Sounds gross.’

She shrugged. ‘So’s going to the toilet, but you get used to it.’

‘I’m not keen on graveyards and cemeteries; they give me the heebie-jeebies.’

‘They are cool; you meet a lot of ghosts there.’

‘Ghosts?’ I quavered.

‘You haven’t got a hang-up about them too, have you? You are going to have a whale of a time at school–no I’ve said too much. Look, ghosts are just people who have passed on and are stuck in the waiting zone–like a station waiting room. Admittedly, some have been waiting for a long time, but they have issues about letting go. Others just think that it’s cool to be a ghost and don’t want to move on.’

‘What about nasty ghosts and p … p … poltergeists?’

‘They are dealt with by the Unseen Police.’

‘Where are they based then?’

‘I haven’t a clue, they are unseen.’

‘Oh.’

I thought for a moment and looked out of the window, light was just starting to show in the sky and the dawn shift of birds had started to make themselves heard.

Outside my room was the branch of the tree that had been very useful for nocturnal exits and entries and on that branch sat Bracken. She was looking at me with a kind of piercing gaze and washing her paw at the same time, it was disconcerting, and I wondered how long she had been out there and what she made of the fact that I had a vamp in my room.

I looked away and when my eyes returned to the window, she was gone. Strange cat that. I wondered what was going through her mind. Strange though it sounds, I had recently felt as if she was on the point of communicating with me somehow, a bit like an itch inside my head when she was around …

‘Look, I had better go now; I want to get back home before my parents wake up. Anyway, bats flying in the daytime is a bit of a no-no. I’ll see you at school, maybe on Monday if you get through the interview in one piece. You’ll love the school, it’s well-bad and cool.’

She gave me a quick hug, stood up, went to the middle of the room, gave me a finger wave and then suddenly sort of imploded and changed into a bat. She then took off and promptly hit the window pane, as the window had been closed to keep out the cold.

‘Oops,’ I said as I got up and opened the window for her. She didn’t seem all that dazed apart from going slightly cross-eyed for a moment, so she just shook herself a bit and then flew out of the window.

I watched as she went high in the sky, did a loop-de-loop and flew off over the trees chased by what looked like a pigeon.

Sarah had woken up a bit, stretched, ‘She’s gone then?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, I’m going back to bed.’ Then she turned to me and looked as fierce as anyone could wearing what she had on. ‘Don’t you dare ever tell any on my friends from around here that I wear glasses, understood?’

‘Would I do that?’ I asked innocently.

‘You had better not.’ She stalked out of the room and I went back to bed.

As I cuddled my bunny, I marvelled at all that had happened and how my world had been turned upside down. This girl thing had disturbed me, and I wondered once again, why I felt like a boy inside despite the packaging.

Oh, the clothes felt nice, I couldn’t deny that and the body bits were interesting to say the least. I still hadn’t explored myself ‘down there’ and I didn’t really want to, as it would mean that I was accepting the girly bits as my own and not some weird, dreadful mistake. Having a fondle would make me feel a bit pervy, and that was one label I could do without.

So here I was, a boy in a girl’s body, and it just didn’t feel right. The trouble was, at the back of my mind, I was just beginning to have feelings that I may not have ever been a proper boy in the first place, and that was confusing to say the least.

As I fell asleep, despite the racket from the birds outside and my mum’s snoring inside, I could hear laughing coming from inside my head and it didn’t seem to be my laughter …

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)

‘You are not dragging me in there! I said strongly...

The Power

by

Susan Brown

As I cuddled my bunny, I marvelled at all that had happened and how my world had been turned upside down. This girl thing had disturbed me, and I wondered once again, why I felt like a boy inside despite the packaging.

Oh, the clothes felt nice, I couldn’t deny that and the body bits were interesting to say the least. I still hadn’t explored myself ‘down there’ and I didn’t really want to, as it would mean that I was accepting the girly bits as my own and not some weird, dreadful mistake. Having a fondle would make me feel a bit pervy, and that was one label I could do without.

So here I was, a boy in a girl’s body, and it just didn’t feel right. The trouble was, at the back of my mind, I was just beginning to have feelings that I may not have ever been a proper boy in the first place, and that was confusing to say the least.

As I fell asleep, despite the racket from the birds outside and my mum’s snoring inside, I could hear laughing coming from inside my head and it didn’t seem to be my laughter …

And now the story continues…

‘You are not dragging me in there! I said strongly.

Sarah looked at me with contempt. She was back in the Goth gear and looked like some sort of reject from the Michael Jackson Thriller video. Mind you I couldn’t get over the vision of her just a few brief hours ago when she wafted into my room looking somewhat different. She had been wearing a flimsy, wafty confection of a baby doll nightie in yellow. You know when you glance at the sun and then close your eyes and you still see the sun on the inside of your eyelid? It was like that with Sarah–I could still see it.

I shivered, trying to get the vision out of my head and not go ape-s**t–I mean, anxious over the fact that I was standing outside a beauty salon and that I actually had an appointment for the full works.

Mother dear, when she had surfaced from her drug induced sleep, had been persuaded by Goth Girl, to make me go and have what Sarah gleefully called “the complete works” whatever that meant.

I could see through the widow of the salon that it was some sort of torture chamber and I could smell things coming from in there that didn’t seem natural and even seemed mildly or majorly corrosive. There were women in the salon, lined up in long rows and all manner of evil things were being done to them; unspeakable things that involved implements of torture that wouldn’t look out of place in a Hammer horror movie. The only thing missing was Frankenstein’s wife, and I assumed that she was behind one of the heavy curtains at the back of the salon where “special services” were carried out.

I was stressed; I knew that I was stressed. As I walked along, wearing a skirt that barely covered my bum and a blouse that didn’t even reach my belly button; with shoes that made me feel like I was walking on stilts, even though Sarah had that told me that the heels were only two inches, I felt like a mini-tart. Everyone else said that I looked cute and lovely that was what lots of girls wore now. I would have preferred a nun’s habit thingie, at least I would be covered up and not quite so visible...

I was feeling seriously weird with pent up feelings that needed venting somehow.

A shop window shattered, showering glass all over the pavement and narrowly missing a man who had stopped to tie his she laces.

Things were building up in me a bit like a kettle about to boil. I couldn't go through with this. I had a strong feeling that something would go twang inside of me and more things would start breaking and exploding.

Sarah was holding my arm in a vice-like grip, looking scared and not quite up to the situation.

‘C...come on sis, nothing will happen–I think; calm down, it's only a s ... s ... salon.’

But something or things rather were happening. The traffic lights on the busy junction 50 yards away started acting crazy, constantly changing from red to amber and then green and then back again. A water pipe burst suddenly in the middle of the road and it was like it was raining all of a sudden.

My blouse and skirt were almost immediately soaked and for some bizarre reason, I was upset about my nice clothes getting wet.

Nice clothes, where did that come from?

I shuddered not just with the coldness of my wet skin.

I would like to say that these were random events with absolutely nothing to do with sweet little me, but who was I kidding; they were all caused by me and I was in freaking-out mode.

I tried to control it like I did with Mum’s China Incident and attempted to will everything back again, but it was no good, I was too upset to control my emotions. I fervently wished that the ground might open up in front me and then, like Alice, I could go down the hole and disappear. Mad hatters and huge bunny rabbits seemed to be somehow preferable to this.

I shouldn't have had thoughts like that. Of course it happened, there was a crack and the ground did open up in front of me, a great tearing gash that wouldn't have looked out of place in a B disaster movie.

But my life was a disaster movie for me at that moment. Here I was, a boy trapped in a girl’s body due to my idiocy and things were happening that would drive anyone insane...

Suddenly, everything stopped dead. It was like someone had clicked the pause button on a remote control.

I could still move, but Sarah was pale and motionless, as were all the pedestrians who were trying to flee the scene. The water that had been gushing out of the cracked main and making a geyser fifty feet high, hung motionless in the sky. All cars had stopped, one of the cars was about to hit another and...well you get the picture–we were in a freeze frame situation there.

‘Meoow.’

I looked down and there was Bracken, licking her paws and seemingly unaffected by all the mayhem going on around us. She has a silver necklace wrapped around her neck. That was strange because I had never seen it before and she wasn't one for jewellery and accessorising.

I felt a sort of itching feeling coming from my head, then the sound of static and then a voice.

‘Can you hear me?’

I looked around and no one had moved.

‘Down here dummy.’

I looked down and Bracken was looking at me with that annoying all seeing, “I know everything” look on her face.

‘Yes it's me.’

‘You can talk!’ I said.

‘Clever girl,’ she replied somewhat sarcastically.

‘Your lips aren't moving.’

‘So, want to make something out of it?’

‘No, erm whatever turns you on.’

‘These lips weren’t made for human conversation, “p’s” can be a bit of a drag so I do the mind thing.’

‘Cool.’ I said

‘I think so.’

‘So, erm, what's happening here?’

‘Your mind has gone into overload and you can't cope.’

‘Not surprising is it. Here I am a boy in a g...’

‘Yes, yes, we know all that. Do you think that we are all blind? Your Granny is worried about you. I am now your familiar, though why it has to be me, I don't know. I am all for a quiet life but no, she says that I have to do my duty and look after you. Why couldn't I be attached to some nice quiet little, goody two shoes witch whose main virtue is keeping her nose clean and doing the household chores. But no, it has to be you. Don't get me wrong, you are, I am sure a nice girl.’

‘I am a Boy.’

‘Whatever, look in a mirror; anyway as I was saying, you might be a nice girl but you have, shall we say certain issues and your Granny told me to take you under my wing...’

‘Oooh, do you fly too?’

‘What?’

‘You said take me under your wing, do you morph or something like vamp’s can change into bats?’

‘Stupid girl, it’s a manner of speech. Now, where was I? Oh yes, your Granny in her wisdom or lack of it, charged me to be your familiar and guardian. All witches have a familiar and cats are normally the ones chosen as we are all wise, wonderful, intelligent and we know mere than a little about the magic world, also we have certain powers that help our chosen one to, shall we say, get out of scrapes?’

‘Not very modest, are you.’

‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it, that’s what I say.’

‘So how are you going to get me out of this scrape then, clever dick?’

She looked at me and looked a mite displeased.

‘Never call me a dick, I might be a lot of things, but dick I ain’t.’

‘Sorry, just a manner of speech. How are we going to get out of this situation?’

‘Easy, first take this necklace and put it around your neck.’

I did as I was told just like a good little girl–I mean boy–I mean–oh I don’t know what I mean!

Hooking it up at the back was a bit of a problem because of my wet fly-away type hair that I was now cursed with, but somehow I managed. The necklace had a silver locket and on that was some scroll type words and a few tiny emeralds. I went to open the locket and have a peek inside...

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because if you do, it loses its power.’

‘Gosh.’ I said and then looked more closely at the lovely–I mean cool thing.

‘It’s pretty but not my style,’ I said turning it in my hand and then I suddenly wondered where I was getting these feminine type remarks from. I should have said “it’s well cool, dude” or “wasup?” Or something equally manly and non female like, but I had said “lovely” and “pretty”!

I shuddered but didn’t have time to think anything more about it as gradually, I started calming down and feeling a bit better about things.

‘Well,’

‘Well what?’

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes, funnily enough. Is this thing hexed, jinxed or something?’

‘Charmed is the word you are looking for. Yes, it’s your Granny’s; like you, she had problems controlling herself when she was young and her grandmother gave it to her.’

I couldn’t imagine my Granny actually being young. All the time that I had known her–like all my life, she had been ancient.

‘Did she start out as a boy then?’

‘You will have to ask her personal questions like that.’

There was no way I was going to ask her that. She would probably turn me into a frog or worse still, a slug.

I was getting a warm, cuddly feeling all over; like I was being wrapped in a nice warm blanket. I noticed that I was now no longer wet, but as dry as a bone.

I looked about, nothing had changed. People were still doing the statue thing; the cars were close to a collision at the junction where the lights had gone wonky. I noticed for the first time, on the other side of the road, a boy on a bike and he was close to being knocked off it by a lorry; sideswiped, I think the technical term is.

This was unreal and the thing of nightmares.

‘What can I do?’ I asked my furry, feline companion.

‘Close your eyes and imagine that you are standing where you are now, before all the mayhem started.’

Shrugging, I did as she asked. It was strange, my locket grew warm and then cold.

I was about to open an eye when...

‘Keep your eyes closed, idiot, can’t you understand plain Catlish?’

‘Don’t you mean English?’

‘I know what I mean, now concentrate...’

I felt a warm wind on my cheek and then the sensation of something being sucked out of me, air and something else...

‘Selene, are you listening to me?’

I opened my eyes, did a double take with an axel twist and gasped.

Everything was back to normal, normal for this town anyway. The traffic lights were working normally; the impromptu fountain had gone and the ground at my feet looked solid and crack free.

Sarah was looking the usual, angst ridden teenager that I knew and loved–sometimes.

‘Where did you get that cool locket?’ asked Sarah peering closely at it. ‘You weren’t wearing it before.’

‘Bracken gave it to me.’

‘When?’

‘Just now.’

‘No she didn’t. I’ve been with you all the time, I think that I might notice a cat that stands one foot tall in her socks giving you a necklace’.

I looked around and saw that we appeared to be Brackenless; in a Bracken free zone, in short, she wasn’t there.

‘She was here and she sorted out the bangs, crashes, explosions, the earth opening up and nearly swallowing me; not forgetting the impending car crash and that little boy who nearly got knocked off his bike.’

‘Have you been drinking coffee, you know how hyper it makes you?’

‘You didn’t see her?’

‘Who?’

‘Bracken.’

‘When?’

‘Just now.’

‘She was here.’

‘No she wasn’t. Look, are you coming in to have your hair and other stuff done or are you too cowardly.’

I felt myself get angry at that and I fully expected Episode 1 of Armageddon to start at any moment and then I felt a coolness from the locket on my less than ample breast–well I was a kid, what do you expect Dolly Parton boobs?

I calmed down. It didn’t seem too big a deal. After all millions of women go through the pain and torture of childbirth, it couldn’t be any worse that, could it?

I had no idea.

I was led like a ram ... I mean ewe to slaughter.

As I stepped, or rather was pushed through the door, the smell really hit my senses. You could call it a smell, but it was so much more; my eyes watered, my throat constricted and I had a pain in the head.

There were implements of torture everywhere. Awful pan-pipe muzak was being pumped out of several speakers. Women were sitting reading aged magazines with their heads semi enclosed by some sort of metal helmet thing that blasted out brain shrinking heat. I wondered how they could read, talk to their next door neighbour and listen to the music while their collective heads were being cooked, it seemed to me to be an extreme case of multi-tasking and I wanted nothing to do with it.

Then I felt a bit calmer as my locket did the cooling thing and everything came back into perspective. I was, outwardly anyway, a girl. Girls go to salons all the time; some, in fact can’t keep out of them. If they can do it, so can I. I would be brave, think of England and get on with it with a stiff upper lip.

I wondered vaguely if the locket was some sort of mind control Borg like thing, but I somehow didn’t think so. I would have to ask my Granny or even Bracken when I saw them.

I was stripped to my bra and panties, (shudder), and then requested, (ordered), to put on this long nylon smock thingie that did absolutely nothing for my figure or my ego, come to think of it.

I was told by the Oberstgruppenfá¼hrer or manager that I would be looked after by Sharon. Sarah had left me as she was being beautified, (their words), by Tracy. Miss Maureen, the manager was an imposing lady and she organised her troops along military lines. I was inserted into the assembly line starting with the hair wash or rather washes, as a number of gloop like substances were put on my hair and then washed off. Eventually, after stripping what oils my hair had off, Tracy, sorry Sharon then put some back on via some more gloop called a conditioner.

By this time I had gone into hibernation mode and just did as I was told, it was easier that way. It wasn’t until I had reached stage 3 that I booted up again as two sharp pricks in my ears indicated that I now had pierced ears.

Don’t let them fool you in to thinking that having your ears pierced doesn’t hurt, it does–a lot.

I didn’t squeal–much.

My British stiff upper lip quavered slightly after undergoing that form of torture, but that was by no means was that the end of my suffering.

I evidently had a few stray hairs in various places, including my legs. Being still young, it wasn’t much, but it was enough for Karina, my next ‘beautician’, to tut-tut and tell me that the offending hairs must be removed.

I would have thought, being a powerful witch, that I could somehow stop the pain and the agony, but no, it didn’t work that way and it took all the locket’s powers to stop me from nuking the place and all its sadistic inhabitants.

Of course I didn’t scream, I just whimpered like a girl. Thinking about it, I was a girl, in theory but inside I was a he-man, of course.

Do you know that they even waxed my eyebrows! I was told with glee that when I was a bit older my Mummy might let me have a bikini wax. I wasn’t sure what that was, but no doubt it would hurt like the devil.

The trouble was there was a small, tiny, insignificant part of me that was enjoying all this, despite the pain, agony and suffering. I was being pampered and I wasn’t used to that.

I tried to take my mind off what was being done to me by thinking calm thoughts. I imagined myself to be one a sunny beach somewhere with the waves lapping gently on the shore. Palm trees were there and the breeze gently ruffled the leaves. I was wearing a nice bikini and my body felt hot in the mid day sun...

Bikini!

I shuddered and came back to the present. What was happening here? Soon I would start reading one of those women's magazines and swooning over Justin Bieber.

By this time I was in the dentists ... I mean … styling chair. Veronica (call me Vron) was chattering away in salon-speak.

‘Oh what nice long hair and it has natural highlights and tones that set off your beautiful face. Oh no, split ends!’

She made it sound like I had some sort of dreadful disease.

‘Never mind, we can sort all that out. Now I see you as wanting a style that is beautiful, sophisticated ...’

‘I'm only thirteen,' I said.

‘You are never two young to start. We had a girl of nine in the other day. She had the works and she looked wonderful after I finished with her.’

‘Good for her.’

Vron carried on as if I hadn't spoken.

‘She came in as a plain Jane type caterpillar and went out as a beautiful butterfly.’

I had a look for the sick bag, like they have on plane journeys but for some strange reason there were none available so I just swallowed the bile and tried to go into auto mode as she wittered on and on and on...

I wondered how Sarah was getting on. I could hear no screams coming from the end of the salon and assumed that she wasn't in as much pain as me. What with the waxing and the mutilation of my poor ears, I was feeling less than chirpy at that moment.

It seemed amazing that just a few days before I had been a normal–well, nearly normal, boy. Now I was a girl and I was being made to be something that I was pretty sure I didn't want to be. What could I do?

Hang on, I thought as Vron came close to snipping off my ear lobe, outside I was able, by some sort of jiggery pokery to turn back time using my powers or maybe the power of my locket.

I tried to remember exactly what I did. It was difficult as Vron kept up an unceasing chatter about her dreamy boyfriend and how she intended to marry him as soon as they could afford to buy a flat.

Concentrate!

I shut my eyes and thought about being in the Forest, like before.

I was naked. It was dark, but the moon was full and strong. I was standing in the magic circle, pentangle type thingie and was about to do my stuff. I willed myself to not say those secret words that would change me into a girl...

‘There we are, what a pretty girl. Now time to have your nails done by Angelina.’

The thoughts had been broken as I was carted off to yet another table where my nails were to be resculptured, whatever that meant.

‘Oooh, you bite your nails!’ said Angelina (call me Ang) with horror in her voice. Another girl working with an elderly woman at the next table left off what she was doing and looked over. She shook her head, looked at me as if I was some sort of social pariah, shuddered slightly and then returned to the lady with a pink rinse.

‘You really shouldn’t bite your nails, you know. I think that we have something that will sort you out, acrylic nails are what you want.’

‘I do?’

‘You do.’

By this time I was too far gone. The fumes from the chemicals had an obvious affect on me, grinding down my will and allowing my torturers to do what they liked with me.

I just sat there looking out of the window while Ang did her worst on me. The sky was blue with white fluffy clouds. I saw a spec in the distance that gradually grew larger. Was it a bird, was it a plane? No, I could see eventually that it was a bat and it was heading towards the window–curious.

I jumped as the bat hit the window; fell to the ground shook its head and then shakily walked around the corner. It was strange that no one seemed to notice the bat other than me.

A few seconds later, Jessica walked in; rubbing her nose and seeing me, she came over and looked down.

‘Ooh dat hurt be,’

‘Pardon,’ I said.

‘By dose, I bashed by dose.’

‘You bashed your nose?’

‘Dats what I said; are you deaf?’

Ang, with the concentration of one who is truly into her work, completely ignored us and continued filing away ...

‘Sooo,’ I said, ‘what are you doing here?’

‘Appointment; bum says that I need to do something wid by hair.’

She still rubbed her nose, which looked rather sore. Without even thinking, I twiddled one of my free, non acrylic fingers and a pink jet streamed from the tip and touched the tip of her nose.

Jesicca went cross eyed, sneezed and then felt her nose.

‘Hey, how cool is that; you fixed my nose. You have serious ju-ju going on inside you. You don’t only blow things up, you mend them too!’

I tried to shush Jessica, who had a rather penetrating voice, but it was strange, Ang still carried on as if nothing had happened and the other people in the salon were paying absolutely no attention to us. This was strange and I would have to find out later why we were being ignored by everyone. It was just another instance of the strange world that I now inhabited.

‘I thought that you weren’t supposed to do the bat flying thing in broad daylight?’

‘I don’t normally, and don’t you snitch on me or they will clip my wings and that can be painful. Look, I have to go now; Madam Mim will have a go at me if I am late.’

‘Madam Mim?’

‘The manageress, that’s what I call her.’

‘She’s a witch then?’

‘Yea.’

So Miss Maureen or Oberstgruppenfá¼hrer to her friends, was a witch. How many others in this town were witches, vamps, werewolves, ghosts and ghoulies?

I waved my free hand and Jessica went over to the reception area and I carried on looking out of the window, that being preferable to watching Ang, with her tongue sticking out of the side of her red glossy lipped mouth, as she did her stuff.

Many people passed the window and I tried to work out how many were–different. The trouble was that no one looked any different to normal and they didn’t have labels on their foreheads to say that they were a witch or any of the other strange beings that inhabited our town.

Then I started as I saw my mum, on the other side of the road. She was walking along holding what looked suspiciously like a tea pot and she was talking to it.

Now if I was looking for strange, that was it. Just before she went out of view, I saw my dad’s car pull up beside her. He got out, looking a wee bit anxious, helped her in and they were off.

We really needed to do something about mum. She was normally okay unless it was a full moon, but the things that had happened lately had pushed her slightly over the edge.

A few minutes later my nails had been transformed and I must admit they looked a lot better than before, but I had no time for admiring them as I was taken to the final ‘station’ as they called it–makeup.

‘But I’m only thirteen and my mum won’t like it.’ I exclaimed as Maria plonked me down on the brown padded pseudo leather chair.

‘Your mum was the one to make the appointment and she said that she wanted her new little girl to look lovely. Though to be honest, we weren’t sure what she meant by new.’

So mum was the driving force behind all this. She really was getting gaga and I thought that it was my devious sisters’ idea originally and then Mum just agreed to it.

And so it went on and on and on.

My face was subjected to more painting than what they did on The Forth Bridge. Maria tried to explain what she was doing, but I wouldn’t or couldn’t take it all in. I think that it must have been some sort of magical intervention that I didn’t have my eyes damaged by the pencil thingie that she used on my eyelids.

Surely girls didn’t do this sort of thing for fun? How could they put themselves through this? As a boy, in the morning, when the alarm went, I was usually out of the house and going to school in 30 minutes flat. A quick wash of the face, dress, have breakfast, clean my teeth if I had time and then run for the bus at the end of the road.

Simple.

As a girl, I wouldn’t bother going to bed as there is no time to sleep. What’s the point? Sarah took forever to get up, dressed and ready. Mum was the same and never went out without her ‘face on.’ Even Granny had more lotions and potions on her face than strictly necessary. If she went for a swim with all that gunk on, there would be state of national emergency caused by the oil slick...

I digress, if that’s the word.

I had purposefully not looked at my reflection at any point and so I had no idea what I looked like. The only thing that I could see were my nails, which were now a rather vivid pink to match my toe nails.

Ooh, I hadn’t told you about my toe nails. They did them just after the Waxing of the Legs Episode.

Did I ever say that I am ticklish, especially my feet and toeses? I wriggled and giggled and it took two massive weightlifter type assistants to hold me down while I was dealt with. The fact that the nails looked perfect, shows that they must have had a great deal of experience with ticklish feet.

Eventually, Maria painted my lips. Not once, not twice, but three times, one coat after another. I swear my lips would now look so big that the rest of my face would pale into insignificance.

They had, at last finished and done their worst. It was over.

I was led back in a dazed, punch drunk state to the changing room and helped into my clothes.

Still I hadn’t seen myself. I was dreading it. I was going to look like a clown, a painted boy, someone to be laughed at.

Pulling the curtain back, there was Sarah, looking stunning after her makeover. For some strange reason I felt a teeny weenie bit jealous of how she looked.

I saw the look on Sarah’s face. It was a strange look; one that I couldn’t quite fathom.

Miss Maureen was there and I think that she smiled–but to my mind it all seemed a bit forced. She grabbed my elbow and walked me across the room to a full length mirror. I didn’t look at myself, I couldn’t; I wasn’t brave enough. I could feel the pain and anger boil up in me and I wondered if the salon had insurance against things exploding and then my locket went warm for a second and the cold and my eyes lifted and I saw myself for the first time after being salonised.

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)