"Well," you think. "There's no point trying to fight back. That piece of duct tape wasn't a joke." You sigh, deciding that it's best you play along for now in the hopes that something will happen to give you the upper hand, and if not, at least you have a chance of earning Ari's good favor by being obedient so that she can decide to change you back faster.
With that settled, you hobble over to Mom's walk-in closet, unable to stand up straight and so doing an odd sort of Igor lurch.
You get a first glance of yourself in your mom's body as you pass the body mirror on the wall. Despite all of her various physical ailments and growing figure (she was quite the looker, she likes to say, before she had you kids. Won the county beauty pageant and everything), Mom is not that bad-looking. With her short, blonde hair and full, ruddy cheeks, she looks pleasant in a motherly way, and on a good day when the temperature agrees and her bones are cooperative, she can dress up and walk around with the full confidence of her youth. With your mind in control, though, it's hard to muster any sort of posture or facial expression that suggests "confidence" or "beauty." You look totally helpless, given the circumstances, and the best your lips can manage is an ugly, upturned grimace of disgust as you take in the woman you've now become.
"God," you think. "Mom has to look at this every day..." The thought is horrifying, as is the following thought that you might be seeing this for at least another week, if not more. You shudder, before putting that thought away and getting to work in assembling a workable outfit for the purpose of serving your sister.
Not wanting to spend too much time fussing over color combinations and matching tops-and-bottoms, you settle for basic black sweatpants and a gray, dust-bunny-flecked undershirt sitting on top of the laundry bin. "What the hell," you think. "I'm not walking out in public like this. I'm driving my sister to school. Nobody has to see me." Thus satisfied," you walk out of the bedroom, now getting the full range of your posture back, and manage to walk down the stairs without another back-cracking incident.
Your sister is waiting at the kitchen table, beaming at you and holding her hands together like the most do-goody daughter in the world. "Hi, Mom," she says. At the sight of your outfit, her nose wrinkles. "That's what you're going to wear?"
"I'll pick something else after I drop you off," you mutter, before going to the pantry to pull out some toast.
"Nuh uh," Ari says as you set it on the counter by the toaster oven. "You make such an awesome omelette, Mom. I'd like to have that this morning."
You shoot an incredulous look at her. "Omelette?" you say. Ari nods exuberantly. "But I can't..." Ari lifts her hand up in a threatening gesture, ready to snap her fingers if provoked.
You sigh. "All right," you say. "I'll make your fr... delicious omelette."
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
