You sullenly stomp off to find Sarah, still inhabiting your old body.
Sure enough, she's spread out lazily across your bed reading one of your magazines.
“C'mon Sarah!” you say in her squeaky, whiny voice. “You've had your fun. Please change us back now.”
“I don't know what you're talking about, pipsqueak!” she says in your voice, with a derisive laugh.
“It's time for dinner,” you say. “And mom and dad are going to know something weird is going on. There's no way you can pretend to be. And I refuse to pretend I'm a little girl.”
“But you are a little girl,” laughs Sarah. “You're my eight-year old sister. Why would you pretend to be anything else, Sarah?”
“Change us back!” you insist. “Or – I swear to God – I will find some way of exacting a horrible revenge on you.”
“What can a little girl do to me?” laughs Sarah. “Enjoy your new life. I'm the big brother from now on. So, if you'll excuse me … I'm going to eat dinner. I'm starved. Being a teenage guy sure gives you a big appetite. I imagine you'll eat like a little bird now. But you're only an eight-year old girl, so that's natural. Isn't it Sarah?”
You stand there frozen in horror as your little sister (inhabiting your body) walks right by you and heads for the dining room chuckling softly to herself with your old voice.
You've already tried telling mom the truth. She didn't believe you. Would dad believe you? It seemed unlikely – especially if Sarah insisted she was really you. Both your parents would likely just assume you're playing some silly make-believe game.
“Sarah, come for dinner!” your mom calls from the next room.
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