Ashley ached all over. She sat up in
bed and rubbed her eyes; they were swollen and sore.
I could see her clearly in my mind. She
was a vision of evil intent wrapped into an exquisitely beautiful
package; but not for long.
I centered my focus and began the hex.
She blinked her eyes, unable to
register the horror that began playing out as her porcelain skin
began to erupt into horrible blisters. In a few minutes they would
break open and bleed. The skin underneath would crack and fall away.
And then, the true intent of my spell would be revealed; deep
wrinkles embedded into her skin. I spoke the incantation as I held
the head of a broken doll in my hands Soon her
hands would begin to gnarl and twist; the blue-black veins becoming
more prominent as her skin got thinner and thinner.
She was aging. I was giving her the
face and body of a feeble old hag, while allowing her to keep her
youthful, shallow, and cruel mind.
Soon they would laugh at her.
She would be sorry for what she'd done to me. She was nothing more
than a bully, and the bigger they are, the harder they fall.
I was going to take it all from her.
Those things she treasured the most; no more selfies, no young
friends to hang with. And worst of all, no more cute boys. She would
have no bae, ever again.
She tried to grab her phone, but it
slipped from her arthritic hands, falling onto the bed. I laughed
and Instagram popped up on her screen. She was aging in her photos
too. She tried frantically to delete them. It wasn't working; they
were still there. She tried to delete her account. It was no use.
She was getting hit after hit, comment
after comment. They all said the same thing.
You're ugly. And old, so very old.
Get off Instagram. We HATE you.
The same poisonous venom she'd spat
onto me, a complete stranger.
I smiled, knowing it was time. The
popular girl was about to become unpopular. Tears poured from her
squinting eyes as she saw her follower count dropping. She screamed
in agony as she saw her following go from over 7 thousand, down to
two; her mother and her sister. And neither of them had logged in
for over six months. She struggled to check her other accounts. And
it was just what she feared, all of them had zero followers. Everyone
had left her; she was nobody.
She couldn't fathom why this was this
happening to her. She had always been so... beautiful and popular.
She was a Queen B.
Then she heard the laughter. My
laughter. She jerked her head around. No one was there. This couldn't
be real. She thought she was going crazy. Or dreaming. That was it;
it was just a nightmare. She'd awaken soon and everything would be
fine. I cackled again.
Her skin began to itch and she clawed
at herself. She couldn't stop. Her youth was fading away.
She threw herself down upon her pillows
and sobbed until she was out of breath, her last bit of energy spent.
I lit tea light candles and set the
doll head in front of them; the ritual was almost complete.
Unpleasant minutes passed as I watched the dwindling flames and
Ashley coughed as her lungs began to collapse.
“I'm sorry.” The words escaped her
lips in a dry whisper. I smiled. She had found redemption.
I smashed the doll head and the spell
was broken. I am not so cruel after all.
©2016 Garden Summerland