Cruel

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