Ethan's mind raced and raced, having not one single person in his mind, as he let out a rare prayer to the big man upstairs hoping that he didn't just release a demon.
Then it stopped there was no more pain.
'Was it all in my head?' He thought before looking down to see the ring still firmly attached to his finger.
'I need to see if I can find help but who? Who would know how to help...especially since nothing has happened?' Ethan thought before his eyes lit up.
'Wait maybe Jay can help me she's into all witch shit...what'd she call it?'
Jay was some one that Ethan knew via rumors and the few moments they talked while packing up in between their lectures, hell he didn't even know what her major is!
Shaking his head he quickly got dressed up and ran out of the house, his eyes briefly went over to Sally, a ten year old or maybe younger girl. He wasn’t sure it felt gross when his mom would talk about her, it wasn't something a twenty something year old should hear about. At the moment his eyes landed on Sally, his hand started burn once more.
"Ahhhhh!" His screams were some how getting higher and higher, before it becomes impossible to tell.
As the pain slowly faded Ethan looked at his hand only for his eyes to widden he expected burn marks or maybe Satan branding his hand, instead it was small, dainty, maybe even cute.
"What the fuck!?" A high pitched yell came flowing out of his mouth totally surprising him and feeling out of place.
"It can't be..." Sally's high pitched prepubesent voice came out of his lips or more accurately Sally's that he was puppeteering.
Ethan looked at him, his clothes some how were fitting the pale little girl frame he now somehow owned, his hand's small dainty having small bits of chipped nail polish of different irritational colors on his nails.
Speaking of which he looked up, and saw his much larger twenty year old body playing with Sally's brother...Timmy? Ethan's mind tried to recall but he wasn't sure. Her white blouse, long flannel skirt, black stocking and mary janes some how fitting her, just like his clothes.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 5:48am on Nov 26, 2024 via server WEBX1.
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
More by this author