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This story takes place in my Twisted universe. Not My Sister's Shadow By Morpheus I sat at my desk, listening half-heartedly as my history teacher droned on about the Antarctic Flu, the virus that hit North America over fifty years ago. The rapid infection caused a lot of panic, resulting in some martial law, mass quarantines, and even other countries blocking Americans from entry. Before the virus ended, over two million people had been killed. "As you all know," Mr. Morgan said as he finished his lecture, "those who contracted the virus and survived were later found to have had their DNA altered." He paused at that and looked around the class full of bored sixteen year olds, his eyes settling on me. "The descendants of those survivors are the Twisted. Like young Jerry here." Every pair of eyes in class turned to look at me and I squirmed uncomfortably under the attention. I was the only person in class who was descended from one of those Antarctic Flu survivors, so I'd known when Mr. Morgan started talking about that topic that this would be brought up. "Hey Jerry," one of the other guys in class asked me curiously. "What's it like being Twisted?" "How should I know?" I responded with a roll of my eyes, having heard this very question countless times before. "I haven't gone through my twist yet." Then I paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, I don't even know for sure if I will. I mean, my mom might be Twisted but my dad isn't." There were a few more questions while Mr. Morgan just observed with an amused look. I gave him a quick glare, knowing that he'd set up this question and answer session as part of his lesson plan. Of course I suppose that I couldn't really blame him for taking advantage of the resources available. After all, my sister and I were the only Twisted... or at least possibly future Twisted in school. In fact we were the only Twisted family in town. After a few minutes, Mr. Morgan got everyone's attention again. "Remember," he called out, "your thesis papers are due in a couple days." He looked at me and added, "And Jerry, your sister turned in an excellent paper on this topic last year. I expect you'll do well." I grimaced at the mention of my sister Shelly and muttered, "Yeah, right." It seemed that no matter what I did, everyone always compared me to Shelly, including all the teachers who had her last year. Nearly every one of my teachers brought her up at one point or another, usually with comments about how she'd done better in class or how I should ask her for tutoring. It pissed me off. When class was over, I waited a minute for my best friend Rich, who'd been seated on the other side of the classroom from me. We used to sit next to each other, but Mr. Morgan had separated us to keep us from talking to each other during class. Rich was 5 foot 7, two inches shorter than me, but also a bit more muscular. He was on the school wrestling team so was always working out with weights and trying to get stronger. "Dude, I bet you'll do pretty good on the next test," Rich told me with a grin. "I mean, with the topic being about the Antarctic Flu and all..." I rolled my eyes at that. "Yeah, someone in my family once got sick." Then I snorted and added, "That was ancient history. I don't know any more about it than you do." Rich chuckled at that and responded, "Then you're in big trouble, dude." "Don't I know it," I muttered with a sigh. Rich and I started down the hallway towards our next class, but we were only halfway there when I spotted my sister Shelly standing to the side with several of the more popular kids in school. I paused, staring at Shelly's best friend April, a hot looking blonde who all natural laws said should have been a cheerleader. The fact that April wasn't a cheerleader went against nearly every stereotype for hot blonde high school girls. "Damn," Rich exclaimed from behind me. "Your sister is smoking..." I nodded absently, knowing good and well that Rich had a crush on Shelly. It was no surprise since nearly every guy in school had a crush on her. Shelly was a tall, athletic, and gorgeous brunette. Not only was she probably the hottest girl in school, she was also one of the most popular. However, in spite of being pretty and popular, she was certainly no bimbo. Shelly had been the star player on the girls baseball team last season and she was a straight A student. Shelly hadn't always been like this though. Just a year and a half ago, she'd been plain looking, a little plump, and a total slacker. Then she went through her twist, and literally overnight, she became the smart and sexy overachiever that the other boys all crushed on. I was still watching April, whom I had my own crush on, when I realized that Shelly was coming towards me. Rich stood up straighter beside me and tried to act as though he didn't notice her. It was all I could do to keep from chuckling. "Hey Jerry," Shelly greeted me, giving Rich a quick nod as well. "Rich." "What's up?" I asked Shelly suspiciously. I wasn't in the same social circle that she now occupied, so she usually avoided me at school unless she wanted something. "I need you to tell mom and dad that I'm going to be home late," Shelly told me. "After kickboxing, I'm going to April's house to study." "Sure," I responded with a sigh, not exactly happy about playing her personal messenger. "Thanks," Shelly told me before she left. Once Shelly was gone, Rich asked me, "Why didn't she just call home?" "Because she doesn't want to give my parents a chance to question her," I answered with a shrug. "This way, they don't get a chance to tell her to come home earlier and she can still claim that she let them know about it." Rich and I continued to our next class where we were able to sit next to each other. One of the other boys in glass glared at me but didn't say anything, though I was used to that. Craig didn't like the Twisted, and even though I hadn't gone through my own twist yet, that meant he didn't like me. There was a lot of fear and hostility towards the Twisted, and though most Twisted didn't like to admit it, there were good reasons why. When someone went through their twist, they connected to a powerful source of energy which could transform them body, mind, and soul. A plain looking girl could become beautiful and outgoing, but on the other hand, someone who was kind loving could become a psychotic serial killer with the power to turn flesh to dust. You never knew what the results would be until after it happened. In spite of the fact that my family was Twisted, the only ones in the entire town, most people didn't really make a big deal about it anymore. I used to get some shit about it when I was younger and I still did on occasion, but most people in school were fairly tolerant. And of course, they'd all become a whole lot more tolerant since Shelly had gone through her twist. After Shelly suddenly became a knockout, most of the people who used to pick on her began to regret it. Now no one even wants to try bullying me since they don't want to take the chance that I might turn into a muscle bound brute with a grudge. It made things a lot easier on me since all I really had to deal with was the occasional snide comment, or worse yet, being compared to my sister. A minute later, our teacher tried quieting everyone down and getting our attention. Mrs. Gatzby was an elderly woman of African descent, and when the class didn't settle down immediately, she pulled out a whistle and blew it. The piercing shriek got everyone to immediately pay attention. "Now then," Mrs. Gatzby said, giving the class a grandmotherly smile that seemed to ignore the method she'd just used to get our attention. "I'm going to pass out the tests you all took yesterday so you can see how you did." "Nice," Rich commented from beside me as he held up his paper with a smug grin, showing the A that was written on the top. "Not so nice," I responded with a sigh, looking down at my own paper with the barely passing grade. "I know you can do better than this," Mrs. Gatzby told me with a faintly disapproving look. "I know you're an intelligent boy. You just need to start applying yourself more...like your sister." I just groaned at that and dropped my head onto my desk with a slightly painful thud. I had a feeling that it was going to be a LONG day. -------------------- I was thankful to be out of school for the day but not quite as thrilled about being home. Our report cards had been released today and it was only a matter of time before my mom and dad checked them online and saw my less than impressive grades. But until they did so, I could continue to ignore that looming threat. I was a little startled to find my mom sitting in the living room since she usually didn't get home for another hour. She was an attractive woman with brunette hair that was currently waist long and tied into an intricate braid. At the moment, she was absently playing with her own braided hair while watching TV. "You're home early," I said as a way of greeting. "They were doing construction work near the building so I wasn't getting many walk ins today," mom explained pleasantly. "I decided to take off a little early because of that." "Besides that, how was work?" I asked her, not that I really wanted to know but more to distract her before she thought to ask me about school or how the big test in Mrs. Gatzby's class had gone. Mom gave me an amused look that suggested she knew what I was up to, but she answered me anyway. "I had one man come in because he passed out while drunk and his friends shaved him bald. I took care of that for him. And then there was my regular Catherine. Well, last week she had me give her a short bob cut and this week she wanted to do a long hair style..." There was obvious excitement in mom's voice as she talked about her day. She ran the most popular hair salon in town, which was due no doubt to the nature of her twist, and especially to her trick. My mom's twist was pretty focused, though fortunately it was something that let her live a normal life. She had a minor obsession with hair, which is what drew her to her chosen career in hair styling. Her own hair also grew at a rate of about a foot a day, which meant that she couldn't style it and usually had to keep it cut short, in a ponytail, or braided. The irony of her owning the best hair salon in town but having her hair like this wasn't lost on us, and was probably the biggest frustration in her life. And then there was my mom's trick. A lot of Twisted have tricks...what would be called super powers in the comics. These can vary from cute and harmless tricks like to being able to make explosions. These tricks were one of the things that made normals nervous about the Twisted, though my mom's trick definitely fell into the harmless category. She had the ability to make people's hair grow longer, something which was extremely useful in her career. Shelly didn't have a trick, as far as we knew, or if she did, it was probably something so subtle that no one had really noticed it. I personally suspected that she might have a trick that helped her succeed with everything she tried, though that might very well just be all her hard work and almost obsessive dedication. "Is dad going to be home for dinner tonight?" I asked mom curiously. My dad worked as a general contractor and often worked long hours when he was in the middle of a project. In fact, since he was in the middle of remodeling a house, I expected to see very little of him for the next couple weeks. "Not exactly," mom told me with a grin. "He isn't working late tonight but the two of us are going to go out for a romantic dinner. I'm afraid that you and Shelly will be on your own for dinner." "Great," I responded with a sigh, knowing that it was going to be just me for dinner. "Mac and cheese it is." "Oh, that reminds me," mom said, giving me one of those 'parental' looks. "I know you have that thesis paper due in a couple days, and if I know you, you probably haven't even started." "It's not a problem," I protested with a sigh. "Tonight would be a good time to work on it," she pointed out flatly. "And if you have any trouble, you should ask Shelly for help..." "Mom," I protested again, not wanting to hear where this was going. "You know she aced that class last year," mom added with obvious pride, making me want to puke. With that I went to my room and sat down in front of my computer. In seconds, the holographic display came up in front of me while the motion capture system would log my hand motions so I could use the virtual keyboard and move the cursor. I checked my email and then did a little surfing, ending up on one of my favorite sites. "Damn," I exclaimed as I looked over the picture in front of me, nearly drooling. "What a total package..." The picture in front of me was that of the new Kia Razor, the latest and hottest sports car on the market. It was a sleek and smooth hover car with the lowest point being six inches above the ground while it was active. It had a maximum speed of holy shit and a cost of oh my fucking god. It was also my dream car, as in I could only dream of ever riding in one of those much less being able to buy one. "When dad said I could look into buying a car, I don't think he meant this," I said with a sigh. Of course dad really meant that he'd help me buy a cheap car with four wheels, not anything new or fancy, and especially not a sports car like that. "Well, a guy can always dream." After I looked up a few more realistic car choices, I switched my computer to video game mode, activating two more holographic displays on either side of me. I grinned as I slipped into playing my favorite game, the one thing that Shell didn't have me beat on. Of course that was probably just because she hadn't played any video games since her twist, but I'd take what I could get. I'd been playing for about an hour when I heard my dad calling me from the other room. "Jerry," my dad called again. "Coming," I called back, halting my game and going out. Dad was obviously back from work, and when I saw him in the living room with mom, I saw that he'd already cleaned up for their date. However I also saw the look on his face as well as on my mom's, which told me what was about to happen. "We just got done looking at your report card," dad said, obviously not happy about it. "You just barely passed most of your classes." "We're very disappointed," mom added with a sigh. "You used to get good grades. What happened?" I didn't answer at first as I was fully aware of the disapproval in their eyes. "I don't know," I muttered, staring at the ground. "We know you can do better than this," mom told me with a shake of her head. "You just need to put some effort into it..." "No video games for a week," dad told me with a scowl. "You can use the extra time to study and get your grades up." "But," I protested, already knowing it was no good. Mom and dad were already starting towards the door. Mom stopped before leaving and gave me one more look before saying, "I wish you'd try to be more like your sister." Those words struck me as though it was a physical blow. As soon as my parents were gone, I spat out bitterly, "Try to be more like your sister..." I clenched my fists, angry at having to listen to that AGAIN. Ever since Shelly had gone through her twist, I'd been hearing variations of that. All I ever seemed to hear anymore was 'Shelly is better than you' and 'why can't you be more like Shelly'. It was infuriating, especially since they all seemed to have forgotten that the only reason Shelly was little miss perfect was because of her twist. Before that, she'd been the slacker with the poor grades, not me. Then I looked at the shelf on the living room wall which held the trophies and ribbons Shelly had won since her twist. I especially glared at the ones for kickboxing and the MVP award for baseball. I couldn't help but feeling a dark glee that she'd never be able to compete professionally. The Twisted were banned from competing in almost any professional athletics due to unfair advantage. I felt a mixture of jealousy and bitterness as I looked over the trophies. Baseball used to be my thing. I'd started in little league and had played for several years. I'd been a decent player, though not great. Then after Shelly went through her twist, she became interested in playing and joined the girls team. She practiced until she became good, even better than I was. Before long, people seemed to forget that I'd been playing baseball for years and started to think that I'd only begun playing to follow in my sister's shoes. And even worse, people told me I should go to Shelly for advice on how to throw and hit the ball better. It had been humiliating so I stopped playing completely. After I'd dropped out of baseball, I started taking kickboxing lessons. I'd always been interested in martial arts and this seemed like a good time to start taking classes. I enjoyed the classes for the first two months, but then Shelly decided that she wanted to learn self-defense as well. She joined my kickboxing class and practiced with fierce determination, quickly catching up to me and then overtaking me. Our instructor thought it was amusing have us spar with each other but Shelly kept beating me more and more easily. I worked even harder so that I could beat her, only to discover that when Shelly faced direct competition, she became almost obsessively competitive. She practiced even harder until she humiliated me over and over again. I dropped out of kickboxing as well rather than continue to deal with that. Now, I didn't bother getting involved with any activities besides my video games. Fortunately for me, Shelly no longer had any interest in beating me there. I went back to my room, still grumbling to myself and looking for something to do for a distraction. But as I entered my room, my eyes were drawn to the small picture frame that was sitting on my desk. It was a picture of me and Shelly. The REAL Shelly. This was probably the last picture in the house of Shelly from before her twist, or at least the last one that was still set out where it could be seen. The rest of the pictures had slowly been replaced with pictures of the newer and more photogenic version. In spite of my current relationship with Shelly, the two of us used to be very close. We used to hang out with each other and even spent a lot of time playing video games together. Not only had Shelly been my big sister, she'd also been my best friend. But that all changed when she'd gone through her twist. The real Shelly had died and this too perfect imposter had been left in her place. An impostor who couldn't bother to spare even a minute for her brother, unless it was to prove that she was better than me. Thinking about the old Shelly made me sad, but it also bothered me that I was the only person who seemed to miss her. I was the only one who actually mourned the loss of my sister. Everyone else seemed to prefer the new one, especially my parents who were so proud to now have a pretty, popular, and perfect daughter. Dad may have grounded me from playing video games, but that didn't stop me from going back on in order to distract myself. Once I'd calmed down again, I logged off my game and decided that I should probably take care of that thesis paper. I normally didn't bother putting much effort into any of my classes since I'd learned that no matter how good I did, it was always pointed out that Shelly did better. However I didn't want to fail either, and this paper was a major part of my grade. I grabbed my portable computer tablet and then went to the living room where I plopped myself on the couch so that I could watch TV while I worked. In spite of being bored in class, I had paid attention and knew most of the subject matter. However I had no idea where to actually start with the thesis paper. I wasn't even sure what topic I wanted to write it on. "Damn," I muttered in frustration, especially when I remembered the way mom had suggested I ask Shelly for help. Whatever I thought about Shelly, she was definitely smart and knew her material. And since she'd aced this class last year, there was no doubt that she'd be able to help me. Of course being able to help me wasn't the same thing as being willing to do so. Even if she was here, I knew that she'd be too busy studying or doing something else to bother. I grimaced as I remembered mom's earlier words of 'I wish you'd try to be more like your sister', which only made it more painfully ironic when I muttered, "What would Shelly do?" I suddenly felt a strange tingling through my body as all the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck seemed to stand up at once. I gasped in instant realization and horror, jumping to my feet and dropping my tablet to the floor. However I barely noticed that as the world seemed to explode and go dark. -------------------- I woke up to a splitting headache, an odd sense of wrongness over my entire body, and a nearly overwhelming feeling of dread. At first, I remained where I was, taking deep breaths and trying hard not to panic. Even with my head pounding, I clearly remembered the strange feelings that hit me right before I'd lost consciousness. The tingling, the feeling of static electricity, and the pressure I'd felt building just a second before everything exploded. Those were the signs preceding a twist. "Oh shit," I whispered, sitting up and having a very bad feeling about this. I slowly got to my feet, noticing that the carpet and couch were blackened and charred. My tablet was on the floor next to me, looking partly melted and completely ruined. There were even torn and burnt remnants of my clothes scattered about. While I was looking around, I was trying hard to ignore my own body. Trying and failing. Everything felt completely wrong, and when I looked down, there were two bulges pushing out from my chest. "Oh shit," I said again with a cold hard knot of dread in my stomach. I grabbed these softball sized mounds of flesh on my chest and gulped. I had breasts. Real breasts, just like a girl. That thought was enough to make me immediately reach between my legs, only to find little Jerry was gone. For a moment, I just remained frozen where I was with one hand on my breast while the other was between my legs. I was stunned...shocked. I couldn't believe it, but neither could I deny it. I'd become a girl. I tore my hands away from my sensitive spots, but continued to look myself over, seeing that I definitely had a female body. Everything about my body had changed, and every bit of it looked like it belonged to a girl rather than to me. "I'm...I'm a girl," I whispered, trying to absorb that simple fact. Then I gulped and added, "And I'm Twisted." The second part wasn't nearly as shocking as the first since I'd always known there was a good chance I'd be Twisted like mom. However since the odds were about fifty percent and Shelly had ended up Twisted, I'd sort of suspected that I'd probably dodge that bullet. Obviously, that wasn't the case. I stood there for a minute, staring down at myself in stunned disbelief and trying to wrap my head around this...and trying not to freak out. Then I took several deep breaths, knowing that I had to take this one step at a time. "I went through my twist," I told myself as calmly as I could, which took some effort. "I'm Twisted...and I'm a girl." Then I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, feeling my breasts sort of rise in the process. When I opened my eyes, I poked at my breasts and let out a sigh, then muttered, "What the hell do I look like now?" Since the only way to get a real good look at myself was to find a mirror, I went to my mom and dad's bedroom. Mom had an antique full length mirror that she kept in there, and I knew that would give me my best view. When I reached the mirror and saw the girl who was reflected back, I let out a loud gasp of shock. The girl was gorgeous, with dark hair that went down to her mid-back. She had a body that was curvy and athletic at the same time, having round and firm breasts and great muscle tone. However she was also extremely familiar. "Shelly," I blurted out with a cold knot forming in my stomach. I looked exactly like Shelly. "No," I exclaimed in growing horror. "No..." I leaned forward and examined my reflection more closely, in spite of the fact that I wanted to scream and smash the mirror. There was no doubt that I looked exactly like Shelly. My ears were already pierced, just like hers, and I even had the exact same haircut, though admittedly, I needed to brush my hair. I finally tore myself from the mirror and backed away, feeling as though I was about to start hyperventilating. It was bad enough to turn into a girl, but to turn into Shelly... Then I remembered what I'd been thinking about when my twist occurred. I'd been thinking about Shelly, about how mom had wished I was more like her and I was even wondering how she'd go about that thesis project. I gulped, knowing that those thoughts were what had directed the nature of my twist. When someone goes through their twist, the form it takes is usually patterned somehow off of what they are doing or thinking at the time it was triggered...especially if it was something new or different. In my case, looking to Shelly for any kind of guidance must have been enough. "SHIT," I exclaimed in frustration. "Why couldn't this have happened when I was weight lifting? Or trying out kickboxing?" I left mom and dad's bedroom and went to my own, sitting down on the edge of my bed and trying to calm down. I couldn't look like Shelly. I couldn't. I've already had more than enough of people comparing me to her that I didn't need this as well. It was just a couple minutes later that I heard noise from the living room, followed by dad yelling, "What the hell happened here? What happened to the floor and couch?" "Oh my God," mom's voice exclaimed a moment later. "JERRY?" Then she must have been explaining to dad as she added, "He must have gone through his twist..." A moment later, I heard them both calling my name while running towards my room. I desperately grabbed the blanked from my bed and pulled it over me, trying to wrap myself in it and hide at the same time. "Jerry," mom exclaimed as she burst into my room, only to find me buried in blankets and hiding from her. "Go away," I snapped, not wanting them to see me like this. "You did go through your twist," mom said, obviously worried. "Are you all right?" "Go away," I repeated, feeling ashamed and even afraid. "Just leave me alone..." "Your voice...," dad gasped. Then his voice became much more firm as he ordered me, "Show us what happened?" All I could do was shake with tears starting to form. "No," I said, huddling up inside the blanked even more. "I don't want you to see me..." "Jerry Andrew Sinclaire," mom snapped in her form 'mother' voice. "You come out from there right this instant." I hesitated a moment before reluctantly pulling the blanked away enough to show my face. Since I was completely naked beneath the blanked, I kept the rest of my body naked. "Shelly?" dad asked in surprise a moment later. "I'm NOT Shelly," I exclaimed angrily. Mom stared at me, her eyes going wide. "Oh Jerry..." Then she threw her arms around me in a hug and said, "I'm so sorry..." "Unbelievable," dad whispered, staring at me in surprise. "Is that really you, Jerry?" All I could do was nod my head weakly. "I think," mom said carefully, looking to dad, "Jerry and I need to have a little privacy." Dad gave me an odd look and nodded before leaving the room. Then mom stared at me for a moment before carefully asking, "How much have you changed?" "Everything," I answered in a whisper, wincing as I did. "Oh dear," mom responded, giving me a sympathetic look. "Can you show me?" When I didn't respond, she let out a faint sigh. "It won't be anything I haven't seen before. Now let me see." I hesitated a moment and then slowly dropped the blanket, letting mom see my body. I blushed brightly and couldn't bring myself to even look at her since I knew she was staring at me. "You really do look like your sister," mom said in amazement. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that you really were Shelly." I winced at that and then bitterly muttered, "You did say you wished I was more like her..." Mom didn't respond to that other than to give me an odd look. After a few more seconds, she said, "Let's get you something to wear and then we can try to figure out how much you've changed." I nodded at that, knowing that she had to be wondering what kind of personality changes, compulsions, or obsessions I might have gained during my twist. I gulped, not having thought about those until now. But I did still feel like myself in my mind, so I hoped that was a good sign. "I don't think your own clothes will fit you very well," mom mused thoughtfully. "Stay here..." With that mom left my room and came back a minute later with Shelly's silk bathrobe. Fortunately it was her silvery white one rather than the pink one. I didn't bother arguing as I put it on since at least it was something to wear. "Have you noticed any odd thoughts or emotions?" mom asked me carefully. "I mean, anything different from how you'd normally feel?" "Does feeling freaked out count?" I asked. "I think that counts as normal under the circumstances," she answered with a faint smile. Mom asked me a few more questions then insisted I leave my room. I reluctantly went to the living room where dad was waiting, feeling extremely self-conscious. I didn't like him and mom seeing me like this. "I always knew you could be Twisted," dad said awkwardly. "But even after Shelly, I'm still not sure what to think." "If we were in Spiral," mom told me gently, "we'd be able to take you to the clinic for a full examination and testing. But as we found out when Shelly twisted, that isn't an option here. Fortunately we found other options, but we'll worry about that later." "I can't believe it," I said awkwardly, holding up my hands and staring at them. Even my hands looked different. They were girl hands. My nails were oval shaped and a little longer than normal, but not too long. Shelly didn't let her nails get too long because they'd get in the way playing baseball or practicing kickboxing, but they were still well manicured and feminine. Shelly returned home a few minutes later. As soon as she'd come into the living room, she saw me sitting on the couch and froze, staring at me with her mouth dropping open. "What's going on?" Shelly demanded, giving me a suspicious look. "It's Jerry," dad said, giving me an odd look. "He went through his twist." "Jerry?" Shelly asked in surprise while I cringed. "Um...yeah," I responded self-consciously. "You look like me," Shelly blurted out. "Think of it this way," dad joked weakly. "Now you have your very own twin sister." No one laughed. -------------------- Breakfast was extremely awkward and was an experience I could have done without. After spending a very uncomfortable night in bed, not able to get to sleep because of the way I kept rolling onto my new breasts, I then had to get up and face my family again. I felt very self-conscious as I sat at the breakfast table in some of Shelly's clothes. I was less than thrilled by having to wear my sister's clothes, regardless of the fact that they now fit me perfectly, and she wasn't very happy about my borrowing her clothes either. "I still can't believe it," dad said, looking back and forth between us. "You two look...identical." That just made me cringe, especially since it was true. Last night, mom had insisted that Shelly and I stand side by side while she looked us over. I had grown an inch taller and was now 5 foot 10, the same height as Shelly. And we found that I had a scar on the back of my hand that was a match for the one Shelly had. Every detail seemed to be a perfect match, which only made this seem even creepier. Shelly stared at me for a moment but didn't say anything before frowning and turning her attention back to her breakfast. Shelly didn't seem any happier about my transformation than I was. It was strange eating breakfast with everyone on a weekday like this, but things were a little odd. Dad was going to work a little late while mom had cancelled all of her appointments so she could spend the day with me. Of course I wasn't going to school today, but Shelly still was. Once we were done with breakfast, Shelly hurried out of the house without saying a word to me. I didn't mind since I wasn't sure what to say to her either. Dad gave me a hesitant hug before leaving just a few minutes later. "Why don't you go take a shower," mom suggested, absently reaching up to brush my hair with her fingers. "When you wash your hair, make sure you use conditioner." I rolled my eyes as I responded, "Sure." Leave it to mom to be concerned about my hair when that was the least of my worries. A minute later, I went to the bathroom and stripped off the clothes I'd put on after waking up, then I climbed into the shower and tried to wash myself. It was extremely aware of my altered body and the way my chest... the way my breasts pushed out. The hot water on my breasts only made it more obvious. While I showered, I noticed that my skin was all soft and smooth as well as more sensitive than normal. This seemed even more true of the skin on my breasts. It was weird, but what made it all the worse was the fact that my body was an exact copy of Shelly's. I felt like I was invading her privacy and that I was being some kind of perverted voyeur. "Better get used to it," I told myself bitterly. "This is going to be you from now on." My first impulse was to rush through my shower as quickly as possible, but I knew that I couldn't ignore these changes forever. And of course, if I didn't deal with my long mess of hair properly, mom would probably throw me back into the shower to make me do it again. I was used to having fairly short hair, so having hair this long was definitely strange. I had to use a LOT more shampoo than ever before, and it almost felt like I was using half the bottle. Then I had to go and do the whole thing over again with the bottle of conditioner. I'd never used the stuff before but was pretty sure that mom would notice if I skipped it. Once I was finished with the shower, I dried myself off and carefully avoided looking into the bathroom mirror. Looking into the mirror now would have been like walking in on Shelly while she was in the shower. I knew that if I was going to be like this for the rest of my life, I'd have to get over that eventually. Just not now. I was just about to put the clothes I was wearing before the shower back on when I heard mom call out, "I put some fresh clothes out on your bed." With a sigh I wrapped myself in a towel the way I'd seen mom and Shelly do before, then I went to my bedroom. I looked over the clothes that mom had set out, thankful that she'd chosen a blouse and pants rather than getting too sexy a top or a skirt. However I did pause when I saw the bra and panties sitting on my bed. "Why aren't you getting dressed?" mom asked when she came up behind me. "I can't wear Shelly's underwear," I blurted out. "I know," mom responded with a sigh. "But they are clean and we'll go get you some of your own later today." Mom left me alone to get dressed, much to my relief. I hesitated for another minute before I decided to get it over with. I put on the underwear and then reached for the bra, hesitating again. For a brief moment, I considered calling mom to ask how to put it on, then I realized how obvious it was and slipped it on without any problems. When I was fully dressed, I left my room, only to have mom take one look at me and shake her head. "You need to use a hairdryer," she told me, gesturing to my hair. "You should have dried your hair before getting fully dressed. You're getting your shirt wet." I grimaced, reaching for my hair which was still wet, in spite of the fact that I'd rubbed and rubbed at it with a towel. It was kind of heavy and awkward. "Can I cut this?" I asked abruptly, looking to my mom. I grimaced and said, "I don't want too much hair..." "It is a bit much to deal with if you aren't used to it," she agreed pleasantly. "Sit down in the dining room and I'll see if I can find a style that works a little better." A minute later, I was sitting down while mom pulled out her styling tools. The first thing she did was use the scissors to cut her own hair off at shoulder length, then she went to work on my hair. Mom cut my hair about shoulder length as well, which was still longer than I was used to, but would still be a lot easier to deal with than the way it was before. But then I felt a tickling feeling in my scalp while mom simultaneously let out a loud gasp and stepped back. "What's wrong?" I asked nervously. I reached for my hair and noticed that it had grown back to the same length it had been before mom cut it. "Why'd you make it grow back?" "I didn't," she answered, giving me a curious look. She ran her hands through my hair and added thoughtfully, "The new growth is dry..." Mom cut my hair again, but then it quickly grow back to its former length a second time. This time, all of the wet hair had been cut off so my hair was now long again. A quick look in the hand mirror that mom held up showed that it had even grown back into Shelly's normal style as well. "I suppose that is one way to dry your hair," mom said, running a brush through my hair until she was satisfied. "But it looks like your twist isn't letting you change the style." "Just great," I spat out in annoyance, wondering what other surprises my twist held in store for me. "We need to find out exactly what your twist entails," mom told me thoughtfully. "Have you noticed any tricks or quirks?" "Besides my hair growing?" I asked wryly. Then I shook my head. "When Shelly when through her Twist, we found an online resource that helped a great deal," mom explained pleasantly. "It might help." Several minutes later, I was back in my bedroom and logging into my computer. The online resource mom had been talking about was a website that had been created to help the Twisted determine what personality changes and obsessions they might have developed. You were supposed to take a test every six months, then take one again after going through your twist. After comparing the new test with the most recent from before your twist, it would point out your psychological differences. I hadn't taken the test previously, in spite of the fact that mom had urged me to do so a couple months ago, so I had nothing to compare the results to. In spite of that, I took the test anyway and spent the next hour answering countless questions about my opinions and what I'd do in certain situations. I had to stop and think about a lot of them which made me consider if what I felt now was the same as what I would have felt on the same question before. When I was finished and saw the results, I was pretty confident that I hadn't gained any personality changes or obsessions, or if I had, they were too subtle to find that easily. "At least that's good news," I said in relief. Having my body change was scary enough, but becoming someone else mentally as well would have been terrifying. At that thought, I suddenly felt sorry for Shelly, wondering what it would have been like for her when she'd gone through it. When I went back to the living room, mom immediately started going over our plans for the day. "We'll need to get you some new clothes," she mused thoughtfully. "You can wear some of Shelly's for now, but you will need some of your own. Fortunately we won't need to worry about finding out your sizes." Mom continued discussing her plans for the day while I just sat on the couch and sighed. I didn't like the idea of going shopping for girl clothes, but I also accepted the fact that I didn't have much choice. Whether I liked it or not, I was female now and none of my old clothes would fit me anymore. I wanted to deny that, but I was realistic enough to know that I couldn't. I'd gone through my twist and I couldn't undo it. All I could do is deal with what I'd become as best I could. While mom was going on in a lot more detail than I cared about, I absently stared down at my breasts and past those to my hands. Then something suddenly struck me about my nails. Something about them seemed...off. I held my hands up and just stared at my nails for a minute before I realized what it was. They needed polish. Specifically, they needed dark red polish, though I wasn't quite certain why they needed to be that exact color, only that they did. "Jerry," mom said, abruptly distracting me from my thoughts. I gasped, suddenly realizing what I'd been thinking and feeling a knot in my stomach. I didn't want polish on my nails and had absolutely no interest in putting any on. Yet when I glanced to my hands again, I had that vague feeling that my nails should have dark red polish. "You were staring at your hands," mom sad carefully, giving me a curious look. "What were you thinking about?" "I was thinking about putting polish on my nails," I admitted self- consciously, unable to meet mom's eyes. "Were you just wondering what they'd look like with polish?" she asked evenly. "Or thinking that you wanted to put some on?" I hesitated a moment before quietly admitting, "The second one." Then I quickly added, "But I don't really want to..." "It looks like you may have stumbled onto another part of your twist," mom told me gently. Then before I could say anything about the online test I took a short time ago, she told me, "That test is probably good for finding large personality shifts or obsessions, but I think there is a lot that would slip past it." "Just great," I grumbled, though I'd already known that was the case. "Let's get going," mom told me gently. "If you're still interested in getting your nails polished later, we can stop for a manicure." From the look on mom's face, I think she was likely to use that as excuse to get a manicure anyway. I felt extremely self-conscious to go out in public for the first time as a girl. Intellectually I knew that I looked like a pretty girl and that I was even wearing the right clothes. However I kept feeling like people would point to me and laugh, though no one did so. Everyone in the store seemed to accept me completely as the female I appeared, which relieved my worries in one way but created new ones as well. The sales guy at the shoe store was in his late teens and obviously took an immediate interest in me, much to my embarrassment. Mom seemed amused at the attention he was giving me, but I just wanted to finish and go as quickly as possible. Fortunately mom was satisfied with only two pairs of shoes, a pair of sneakers for casual and athletic wear, and a pair of black shoes with a low heel for nicer wear. "This should do for now," mom told me as we left the store. "If you need other shoes for some reason, you can borrow them from your sister." "Just what I always wanted," I responded sarcastically. "To borrow my sister's clothes." Then I let out a sigh and asked, "Can we go get underwear next? That is definitely one thing I don't want to ever have to borrow from her again." "Of course," mom agreed with a laugh. "Honestly, I thought I'd have to drag you kicking and screaming for that one..." I had expected to go to a store and just buy a few packs of underwear, but found that we'd gone to a lingerie store instead. It was the kind of store I'd never gone into before, one with panties and bras everywhere. Mom seemed perfect comfortable so I did my best to act like I belonged. "I know Shelly's sizes so you shouldn't need a fitting," mom told me. "Though you'll still have to try a few things to make sure they fit." I just nodded and looked around, then on an impulse, I went to one rack on the side. I flipped through the bras on the rack and pulled out one of them, holding it up and silently examining it. With that size and this brand, I knew that it would be a perfect fit for me. Just then mom exclaimed, "Hey Shelly, look at this one. It's it cute?" "Shelly isn't here," I reminded her with a wince. "I'm sorry," she apologized with a chuckle. "It's just that you look and sound so much like her that it's easy to forget." With a snort I said, "Well I'm not her." It was bad enough that I was stuck looking like Shelly, I didn't want everyone to keep mistaking me for her too. Unfortunately, due to the nature of my twist, I had a bad feeling that I'd have to get used to that as well. "What have you got here?" mom asked, snatching the bra from my hand. "Did you find something you liked?" She chuckled, seeming amused by that. Then she looked at the tag before pulling out a sheet of paper where she'd written down Shelly's sizes. "You picked out the right size." She seemed surprised by that. "You'll have to try it on to make sure though." After I found a few more bras, I went into the changing room and tried them out. The one I'd picked out first was a perfect fit, while oddly enough, the one mom picked out for me next was just a little too snug. When we were done, we walked out the door with three bras and a dozen panties. I was stunned and even a little horrified by just how much it had all cost. If all girl clothes were this expensive, I had no idea how I'd ever be able to fill my dresser back up. "I was thinking," mom said as we walked out the door. She gave me a thoughtful look before adding, "I think you might need a new name to go with your new look." I paused and looked down at my breasts and then let out a sigh. I'd known this was coming, though I'd expected another day or two before the subject was brought up. "I know," I finally said. Of course that didn't mean I had to like it. "I was thinking Kelly," mom suggested with a smile. I just groaned, knowing that she'd picked that name simply because it rhymed with Shelly. "No thanks," I responded. I might be stuck having to look like Shelly, but I didn't want to play into the whole 'twin' thing. Rhyming names was just too much. "I was thinking of just changing the spelling. Make it Jeri with an I." "That would make it easier for you to answer to," mom admitted, obviously disappointed that I wasn't taken with her suggestion. "Jeri Anne Sinclaire. That could work." With that decided, we continued with our shopping trip, getting me everything else that mom thought I would need...and a few I probably wouldn't. I just couldn't believe how much money mom spent on me, nor did I think that dad would be happy once he found out. And after we were finished with shopping, mom insisted on stopping so we could each get a manicure. I'd been a little hesitant, but after they put on the dark red polish, the faint itch I'd been feeling all day went away. I had mixed feelings about having gone for a manicure and getting my nails polished. On one hand, it was more feminine than I was comfortable with yet, but on the other, it somehow seemed right as well. As soon as we got home, I changed out of Shelly's clothes and put on my newly purchased ones. I could have waited to do that, but there was a definite difference between wearing my sister's clothes and wearing my own, even if they were nearly identical. "I know things are a little chaotic right now," mom told me, almost apologetic. "But you do still have school work that needs to be done. I talked to your school and they'll be e-mailing your classwork." "Great," I grumbled in complain. "I turn into a girl and I still have to do homework." I wasn't in the mood to do any school work at the moment, but I still got some of my materials out and made a show of it just to satisfy mom. While I was doing this, I realized that with my tablet destroyed during my twist, it would be a little more awkward doing some of this work. I'd have to do it on the computer in my room until I got a replacement. Just then I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my finger, and when I looked at it, there was a cut with blood coming out. I gasped in surprise and looked for whatever I'd cut it on, but I didn't see anything. I held my hand for a moment, just feeling confused. "Damn," I exclaimed, holding my hand up to show my mom. "I cut myself on something..." "Well go put a bandage on it," mom said with an exasperated voice. I went to the bathroom and washed the blood off my finger and put a bandage on it. Getting cut and bleeding wasn't a big deal, but the fact that I hadn't been doing anything that could have caused it was. There hadn't been anything sharp near me. "Is ANYTHING ever going to feel normal again?" I asked my reflection in the mirror, still feeling shaken and a bit startled to see Shelly reflected back. But as I stared at my reflection, it suddenly struck me that I needed makeup. Makeup and earrings. It was the very same certainty that I felt earlier about the nail polish. "Not again," I complained, looking away from the mirror, though the faint nagging desire to put on makeup and earrings remained. "It looks like I really did get some compulsions..." I grimaced at that, not at all happy about it. But at least they were minor compulsions, I told myself, knowing that it could have been worse. These ones might be annoying, but they weren't dangerous and they were weak enough that I could try to ignore them. After this, I would have distracted myself by playing some video games, but mom was quick to remind me that I was still grounded. Apparently, going through my twist and having my entire body and life forever altered wasn't a good reason to make an exception. Because of that, I used my school work to distract myself instead. I started with the reading projects, figuring that I'd just skim over those. However when I was reading the pages that Mr. Morgan had assigned, I had a strange sense of deja-vu...a feeling that I'd read them before even though I was sure I hadn't. Reading ahead of the class lessons was Shelly's thing, not mine. When I was done glancing over the reading assignment, I filled out the quiz, surprised again by how easy the questions all were. I didn't even need to cheat and look up any of the answers. I finished the school work in record time, or at least everything but the thesis paper that I still needed to do. I was feeling proud of myself but also just a little worried. In spite of my grades and what my teachers and everyone in my family seemed to think, I wasn't stupid. I knew that the quiz had been just a little too easy and wondered if that might have been tied to my twist as well. "I wish my twist came with a manual," I muttered, thinking about how much easier it would be if I had all the details of my twist spelled out clearly. Just stumbling across them on my own was a pain in the ass. Shelly returned home from school just a short time after this, though to my embarrassment, she wasn't alone. April came into the house right behind her, and the moment she saw me in the living room, she froze and stared at me with her mouth dropping open. "You weren't kidding," April blurted out, looking to Shelly and then me. "Unfortunately, no," Shelly responded, giving me a look of annoyance as though it was my fault I now looked like her. "You're like...twins," April exclaimed, looking amused by the idea. "We're not twins," Shelly and I both blurted out at once. April burst out laughing at that while Shelly glared at me. April walked up to me and then began looking me over. I felt extremely self-conscious as she examined me, and if it had been anyone else looking at me like that, I would have pushed them away or at least backed off myself. However I still had a crush on April and this was the most attention she'd ever given me. "Do you mind?" I asked awkwardly. "Sorry," April told me with a broad grin. "This is incredible... I mean, you two look exactly alike. If I didn't know you were you, I'd never guess you weren't Shelly." I winced at that and muttered, "Incredible isn't the word I'd use." Suddenly mom exclaimed, "Shelly...what happened to your hand?" Shelly held up her hand, revealing that one of her fingers had a bandage around it. It was the same finger and place where I had my own cut. She shrugged and explained, "A beaker broke in chemistry and I accidentally cut my finger on it." I stared at Shelly's hand, at the bandage on her finger and on her nails which were painted with a dark red polish. Her nails were nearly identical to the shade that I'd picked out for myself while getting my manicure. I gulped, then held my own hand up, showing that other than the brand of bandage, it was identical to hers. "Wow, that's just weird," April said, looking fascinated by this. "I want to try something," mom said, rushing out of the room and calling back, "You two stay there..." Mom came back into the room a minute later with her scissors and proceeded to cut my hair short again. And as with this morning, it immediately grew right back to the former length and style. April gasped in amazement while Shelly watched with a thoughtful look. "Now for you," mom told Shelly, who immediately backed away. "Don't worry. I'll fix your hair when we're done." "Fine," Shelly responded reluctantly. Mom cut Shelly's hair at shoulder length, and a moment later, I felt a tingling in my scalp. To my amazement, my hair shortened so that it was once again a match for Shelly's. Mom then made Shelly's hair grow longer, all the way down to the ground. Again, my scalp tingled and my hair grew until it was the same length as Shelly's. "We're...synchronized," Shelly exclaimed, glaring at me again. "Or at least she's synchronized to me..." I could only stare back at Shelly, feeling horrified by this discovery. Mom had wished that I was more like Shelly, and now her wish had been granted, but I was the one who was paying the price...and would continue to do so for the rest of my life. Not only was I stuck looking exactly like my sister, I couldn't even differentiate myself with my own hair cut. And then there were the compulsions I was feeling as well. Being Twisted was turning out to be my worst nightmare come true. -------------------- It was my second morning to wake up in my new female body and it wasn't any better than the first. I'd had a poor night of sleeping, though admittedly it was a little better than the previous night. The best thing about climbing out of bed was finding that Shelly had already left for school. I grimly remembered yesterday and the discovery that I was still somehow synchronized to Shelly and her physical state. We'd done a few more experiments on my condition, proving that if Shelly dyed her hair another color, my hair would change color as well. And if we dyed my hair, the dye would almost immediately vanish. It seemed that no matter what I did, I was cursed to remain a physical copy of Shelly. Mom thought that this was not only part of my twist, but was actually my trick as well. "Yeah," I muttered bitterly. "A trick on me." I shuddered when I thought of what this would mean for me. What would happen if Shelly got injured somehow? I'd already learned that I'd get the same injury, which meant that anytime she competed in kickboxing or anything else, I was taking the same physical risks that she was. On the other hand, if I got hurt on my own, my injury would probably vanish. I didn't consider that much of a compensation. When I went in to take my shower, my first impulse was to go as fast as I could so I could get it over with. However I forced myself to go slow and take my time instead. Last night, I'd read an article online for Twisted who'd gone through drastic twists. It recommended taking your time to familiarize yourself with your new body in order to become more comfortable with it. The article said that doing this could help you to adapt and adjust more quickly. I was skeptical, but was willing to try just about anything so that I didn't keep feeling like such a freak. I slowly washed myself, exploring nearly every inch of my body as I did so. I still felt like a voyeuristic creep and had to remind myself that I might look like Shelly, but this was still my body. No matter what I looked like, I would have to accept this and get used to it. That helped a little. After I was finished with my shower, I looked at the blow drier mom said I should use to dry my hair with, but then paused. With a wry smile, I reached into the medicine cabinet for the scissors and quickly began cutting all of my hair off and tossing the mass into the garbage. My scalp tickled as I cut and quickly began to grow my hair back out again. In almost no time at all, I had a full new head of hair that was completely dry. "Way easier than drying it," I said, feeling a little proud of myself. "I put several outfits out on your bed," mom called out to me. "Pick out which one you want to wear." A minute later, I was looking at the three outfits mom had set out for me, feeling annoyed that she'd done that. I might not be used to dressing in girl clothes, but I was still perfectly capable of dressing myself. One of the outfits was a T-shirt and pair of jeans, similar to what I'd usually worn as a guy. The second outfit was some kind of long sleeved blouse with slacks which looked feminine but a little conservative. The last outfit consisted of a feminine purple top that revealed a little cleave and a pair of tight black pants were folded next to it. Normally, there was no way that I'd even consider that purple top and I would have immediately gone for the jeans and T-shirt instead. However for some reason the purple top was the one that caught my attention. It seemed to scream 'wear me'. I got dressed as quickly as I could, and when I was done, it suddenly dawned on me that I couldn't wear my sneakers with this outfit. I needed the other shoes mom had bought me. But after I put them on, something still seemed off. A moment later, I realized what it was. I needed a little more heel in my shoes. But even more than that, I suddenly realized that I should be wearing a black skirt, not the black pants. "Where is that all coming from?" I demanded of myself when I realized where my thoughts were going. I had absolutely no interest in dressing so girlie, yet a part of me definitely wanted to. I felt a cold chill go down my spine as I realized that it was just like the nail polish again. "My compulsions..." I muttered a few profanities, not happy that I'd gotten caught up in those new compulsions before I'd even realized it. I was still grumbling to myself when I walked into the living room. "Very nice," mom told me with amused look. "I had a feeling you'd pick that outfit. It's the closest to what Shelly was wearing when she left. Of course she was wearing a skirt, but I doubted you'd go for that." "Why am I not surprised?" I muttered in annoyance. It seemed that my compulsions were as tied to Shelly as my body was. My body automatically adjusted to match hers while I felt these urges to match her clothes and makeup as well, even when I didn't know what she was wearing. "Damn," I said with a grimace, knowing that I was going to have to be careful. I obviously couldn't trust my own impulses anymore. "Shelly has very good taste," mom told me pleasantly. "It's a good thing you're picking that up from her." I bit my tongue to keep from saying what I wanted to. Instead I focused on eating breakfast, trying not to think about how much Shelly was intruding into my life, though not succeeding very well. "I'm going to have to go to work today," mom told me, sitting at the table and sipping coffee while I ate. "I have several appointments I have to keep so you're on your own." "Not a problem," I muttered, looking forward to getting some privacy, or at least some time when I didn't have my family giving me odd looks. "And no video games," she reminded me with an amused smile. Then she mused, "And I believe that thesis paper is due today... I know it's Friday and you won't be going back to school until Monday, but I believe you can still e-mail it to your teacher in time for the deadline." "Um...yeah, sure," I responded, wincing since I hadn't even started on the thesis. After mom left for work, I took advantage of the opportunity to hop on and play my favorite video game for awhile. However I didn't let myself get too caught up in it since I did still have some work to do. When I logged off of my game, I looked down at my nails which were still painted dark red and grimaced as I felt the compulsion to change the color. They needed to be dark purple instead. "Shelly must have painted her nails this morning," I muttered in annoyance. Since I was off my game, I finally turned my attention to the thesis paper. I was rather nervous about working on it since I clearly remembered the last time I'd tried doing that. I shuddered but knew there was no chance I'd go through another twist. At first, I was exactly where I'd been the last time I tried working on the assignment, stuck and with no idea where to start. Then it suddenly came to me and I went to work. I spent the next two hours writing my paper, alternating between writing and checking resources. Once I got into the groove, the words just came to me and the paper nearly wrote itself. Once I was done with the assignment and had caught up on all my homework, I just needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my day. Video games were the obvious choice, followed by TV. While I was considering what to do, I went to the bathroom to relieve myself. As I'd found last night, going to the bathroom as a girl wasn't really that much different than going as a guy. Sure, I have to sit down to pee, but that wasn't really a problem. As I washed my hands, I looked up into the bathroom mirror and felt my compulsions click in again. I needed makeup and earrings. However I knew what to expect, so wasn't completely overwhelmed by these urges. "This is going to get old fast," I told my reflection with a sigh. If I had to deal with these urges every time I looked into the mirror or at my hands... I turned away from the mirror but still felt the urge to put on makeup. It wasn't so bad that I couldn't ignore it, but I suddenly wondered why I should bother. After all, I was home by myself and no one would see me if I experimented a little. By this point, I was getting a little curious as well. Getting my nails painted yesterday hadn't been bad at all, and it had satisfied those urges at the time. I only hesitated a few more seconds before I opened the drawer that contained Shelly's makeup kit. "Shelly will kill me if she finds out," I reminded myself, though that also motivated me to continue. "Of course I'd kill myself if she finds out." A few seconds later, I began putting the makeup on, being hesitant at first, but quickly growing more confident. I'd never put makeup on before and had never even considered it, but everything seemed pretty obvious to me so I just went with it. When I was finished, I examined my reflection in the mirror and announced, "Perfect." Then I scowled slightly and said, "Too perfect." I'd done a good job of putting the makeup on and making it look subtle. In fact, it