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---
The Christmas Wish
By AngelJedi (Megan Campbell)
(Released: December 24, 2020)
My mom was screaming - again. It was like the third time today or
something. She clearly wasn't enjoying Christmas break as much as I was.
Thankfully, she wasn't screaming at me...this time. She was screaming at
Sam. Apparently he had broken another vase with the BB gun my dad had
given him for his birthday last month. Why my mom still kept vases in
the great room was beyond me. They were just going to get broken. This
wasn't even the first one this month.
It was only 11:30 am on Christmas Eve, and three of the five of us had
already been disciplined. Merry Christmas indeed.
My name is George. At 15, I was the oldest of five boys in my family,
and I was currently sitting on one of our couches in the great room
while reading next to the Christmas tree. Reading was one of my favorite
pastimes. Harry was 13 and was playing video games in the den, Dennis
was 11 and had already been sent to his room for something, Sam was 8
and was currently being yelled at and scolded, and Tim was 5. Tim was
sitting on the other couch in the great room, bored. He was currently in
"time out". "Five wonderful boys" according to my father. "Five little
monsters" according to my mother.
Don't get me wrong - my parents have been wonderful, especially my
mother. She has been the best mom that I could ever ask for. But raising
five boys certainly wasn't easy, especially when we were out of school
for two weeks. Both of my parents clearly loved us, and there were many
worse situations that we could be in. I just wished Mom would stop
yelling at us and that Dad would stop paddling. Fortunately I have been
able to avoid most of the yelling and all of the paddling, but I've been
in plenty of hot water recently.
I had been in detention every day for the last two weeks before the
Christmas break had started. It wasn't my fault, really, but Mom and Dad
didn't see it that way. I was walking down the hall at school when I got
pushed forward from behind. I was able to catch myself, and turned
around just in time to see Julian Crawford swinging a punch at me. I
didn't know why he was upset with me enough to throw a punch because we
were generally cordial with each other. He lived down the street from
me, but we didn't really hang out much. We just ran in different
circles. He was on the basketball team, and I hung out with
more...intellectuals. We certainly weren't enemies in any way.
Suffice it to say, I saw that punch coming and somehow, with instincts
and reflexes that I didn't even know I possessed, I moved slightly to
the side and swung back at him. He missed. I didn't. He got a bloody
nose. I got two weeks detention.
My parents were furious. They couldn't believe I was fighting at school.
They may have believed it when I said that he swung first, but overall
that didn't really matter to them. They were just upset that I had swung
at all. Along with that detention came a grounding: after I spent an
extra hour at school every day I then had to come home and sit in my
room all night. For two weeks! It wasn't even my fault! He attacked me!
Thankfully they had lifted my grounding when Christmas break had
started, and the detention had ended. I had marginally improved from
"hot water" to "thin ice" in their minds. I was doing my best not to
antagonize them during the break, but they had still yelled at me a few
times, mostly for small things that didn't really matter. I was certain
they were fed up with all of us, though.
It didn't help that Dad had gone to the office this morning for
something. He promised he'd be back before lunch, but his departure had
clearly not gone over well with my mom, probably because she had
disciplined both Dennis and Tim before he'd left.
I continued reading for a while, trying to drown out the screaming. At
some point it ended, and shortly after I realized Mom was standing at
the end of the couch. I looked up, and she was looking at me. It was
slight, but she looked disappointed.
"Why are you just sitting there reading?" she asked when she noticed I
had looked up. "Why can't you ever help?"
I stared back, confused. I didn't know what she wanted my help with. I'd
done all of my chores. The house was still pretty much clean. She had
been baking in the kitchen, but she never wanted any help with that. The
snow on the ground outside meant I didn't need to mow the lawn. The lack
of snow on the driveway meant it didn't need shoveling. I wracked my
brain for other possibilities and came up short.
Clearly, the look on my face wasn't what she wanted to see. She just
shook her head in exasperation and walked away. I shook my own head.
'Whatever,' I muttered silently to myself as I turned back to my book.
Not long later she started yelling at Harry for some reason in the other
room.
---
I've always loved Christmas! It was my favorite time of year. Presents
are always nice, but I mostly loved the joy, the happiness, and the
snow. There was just something special about it. Something magical.
The rest of Christmas Eve was certainly an improvement over what the
morning had been. When Dad returned home just before lunch we sat down
as a family and ate the sandwiches my mom had prepared. Then he took all
of the boys into the den and we played video games for most of the
afternoon, giving Mom the time to do whatever she needed to do, or just
have time alone. I wasn't sure what she did during that time.
We usually ordered take-out from one of our favorite restaurants on
Christmas Eve. After eating together, we all gathered around the
fireplace and had our usual small Christmas program that involved
reading about the birth of Christ in the scriptures, and then watching a
short Christmas video, which was sappier than it needed to be.
Then just before bed, we all were allowed to open one present. We always
opened a present on Christmas Eve, and we always received the same
thing: new pajamas. I have always loved the Christmas Pajamas we got.
They were always softer than what we usually wore to bed, but they were
also generally warmer, and couldn't be worn year-round. Mom made us all
go change into them. This year my pajamas were a really cool red, white,
and black plaid flannel set that made me feel like a lumberjack when I
put them on, but they were also some of the most comfortable pajamas I
had ever worn.
After we had all changed we returned to the fireplace and the Christmas
tree, where we had family prayer together. Then we set out the cookies
for Santa and were ordered to go to bed and not come out until morning,
lest he see us and not leave any presents.
Alone in my room, I could feel the palpable energy of the season while I
laid in bed and read some more. Eventually, it was time for sleep. I put
my book down, but instead of pulling the covers up further I climbed out
of bed and walked over to my window and looked out. It was something I
did every Christmas Eve. Snow covered the ground and the houses in view.
It had started snowing again, and everything was covered. No doubt Dad
would make me shovel the driveway tomorrow morning, but since it was
Christmas it would probably be after we opened all of the presents. The
sky was surprisingly clear for the amount of snow that was falling. I
didn't see any clouds anywhere.
Just as I was about to turn and go back to bed, I saw a flash of light
and looked up just in time to see a large shooting star cross the sky.
Immediately, I knew I needed to make a wish. Perhaps on Christmas Eve,
with all of its magic, combined with the shooting star, it would come
true.
I quickly shot through all the things I could possibly wish for: a new
girlfriend; I hadn't had one since Becky broke up with me a few months
ago. The new PlayStation, but that wasn't going to happen. Nobody was
getting one. Some of my younger brothers still hoped Santa would bring
one, but I knew better than that. Better grades at school. A new
computer. My own car for when my learner's permit became a full-blown
license. Then, I thought of the perfect wish.
"I wish my mom could be happy tomorrow," I said aloud. I smiled, and
then turned and hopped into bed, pulling the covers up as tight as they
would go. It was cold tonight.
---
"Sweetie," I heard someone say sometime later. "Sweetie? Are you okay?"
I awoke immediately after. This was weird. It was my mom. I was lying on
my side facing the window and I could tell that she was lying on my bed
behind me, and she was stroking my hair. That was something she hadn't
done since I was a little kid.
"Sweetie?" she asked again. "Your brothers are already downstairs ready
to open presents. Are you okay?"
I lifted myself up and turned in my bed to look at her. She looked
beautiful this morning. She looked happy. Maybe the wish had worked.
She smiled at me, and I couldn't help but smile back. I loved her so
much.
"Are you okay?" she asked again, concern evident in her eyes.
"Yes," I said. I was okay. In fact, I felt fantastic. I felt better than
I had in a long time. "I must have just overslept."
She chuckled. That wasn't something I usually did on Christmas morning.
"Get up and get ready," she said. "I'll keep them busy until you come
down."
She smiled while lovingly looking at me, and then stroked my hair once
more before she stood up and exited the room, closing my door behind
her.
I sat up in bed, and that was when things started becoming even weirder.
Something was wrong with my room. Things seemed to be in the wrong
place, and there were odd colors in other spots. There were a few things
I had never seen before. I would have continued looking, but I really,
really needed to use the bathroom now.
I threw back the covers, and felt myself nearly gasp when I saw my legs.
My awesome lumberjack pajamas had morphed into some kind of pink and
black plaid two-piece that hugged them much tighter than anything I had
ever known. Then I almost screamed when I realized that the top did the
same thing, but it was rounded out by two orbs on my chest that never
ever should have been there!
I sat there, just staring at myself for I don't know how long. It was
only the incessant need to use the bathroom that made me finally stand
up. That didn't help the situation either. My body jiggled and jostled
in ways it never had before, and I was clearly shorter. The room looked
bigger, or at least the things hanging on my walls seemed to be further
away.
With worry, I quickly ran for the bathroom. As the oldest, I was lucky
to have my own en suite. Technically this was the guest room of the
house, but I was happy to call it my own. When I reached the bathroom I
stopped dead in my tracks at the image I found in the mirror.
It certainly wasn't me!
I had always taken after my dad with dark hair and a chiseled look that
I was sure was going to impress the ladies...well, eventually. But
staring back at me was a miniature version of my mom. And this girl was
small!
She couldn't have been taller than 5'2", which was clearly a large
departure from the 5'9" I had gone to bed as! My curly brown hair was
gone, replaced with straight blonde locks that fell to the middle of my
back! How had I not noticed that?! Now that I had noticed it, I
definitely felt the weight and could even see how part of it was
obscuring my vision.
Her face was absolutely beautiful! Those chiseled looks I had hoped
would catch me a girl had clearly been sculpted to define a beauty I
would have happily dated. I did not want it to be me, however!
The pajamas did little to hide the sex of the person in the mirror. The
slim waist and wider hips certainly showed that this young lady was
developing well. The two bumps on her chest certainly wouldn't be found
on any young man I knew. They weren't big. They were perhaps smaller
than most of the girls in my class, but that seemed to be because she
was so small, not because she was any less developed.
The urge to use the toilet reminded me that I was staring at myself
again, and with trepidation I turned and looked at the toilet. I needed
to go so badly, but I didn't want to do this. I'd had enough health
classes and "the talk" from my parents to know the difference between
boys and girls. I'd even seen some pictures that one of my friends had
shown me. But I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't sure I could do it.
But I really, really had to go.
I walked over to the toilet and turned around, pulling down my pajamas,
and, and, well, and my panties. I didn't want to look and just sat down.
NO, NO, NO, this wasn't right! It was so wrong! It felt weird! It felt
like I was making some kind of mess! It felt nothing like it was
supposed to! I almost started crying right there on the toilet. Then I
almost started crying again just realizing that I had almost started
crying!
When things were done, I began to panic because I didn't know what to do
next. Fortunately my body did. I just kind of sat there in shock as my
arms moved, rolled up some toilet paper, and did their thing. I didn't
really know or care what was happening, but it ended with me standing up
and pulling everything back into place. I sighed in relief.
I stepped back over to the sink and washed my hands. Boy or girl, that
was a must. Then I stared at my reflection again. Her hair was a mess. I
couldn't leave and go downstairs looking like that.
I couldn't go downstairs at all! What would everyone think?! They would
probably all laugh at me! George was a girl now! I was hyperventilating,
and was starting to get dizzy until I realized that Mom had been in my
room when I woke up. She knew, and she didn't act like anything was
wrong! She thought I was a girl! How could that be? Thinking back on our
short interaction made that pretty apparent, even though she really
didn't do much of anything different except for lying down next to me.
But there were little things that made me realize my new fate may not be
abnormal for those around me.
It was Christmas. They were all waiting on me. I had to go down.
I sighed, and pulled open the drawer where I kept my hair supplies. And
immediately slammed it shut!
I started hyperventilating once more. That drawer did not hold hair
supplies anymore. It was used for...for...well, for things only girls
need! I didn't even want to think about that!
I was still hyperventilating, and it took me a few moments to calm down.
Then I tried to clear my mind and let my subconscious take control.
Almost immediately I felt myself reaching toward a different drawer, and
when I pulled it open I found a brush. My body continued to do its own
thing and I started to run the brush through my hair. Clearly straight
hair was easier to deal with than the wavy mop I'd had before, and soon
it started to look presentable, even without a shower. I started to
worry that my body was taking control, but when I wanted it to stop, it
did. Then I tried to brush my hair once more and clearly didn't make the
right motion or something, as there was a painful tug on my scalp. But I
relaxed my mind again, and my body started brushing my hair the right
way.
So I wasn't being mind-controlled. This body just seemed to know how to
do what I needed it to do. If I tried to do it consciously it was like I
had never done it before, but if I allowed my "muscle-memory" or
subconscious to be in control, things happened as if I had done it many
times before.
Eventually, that "muscle-memory" got my hair looking good. While I was
smiling at how attractive this girl was my subconscious betrayed me and
started pulling out makeup! I didn't even realize it until I was
applying that crap to my face! I stopped myself, but another look into
the mirror showed that it was too late. I either had to clean it all off
or finish what I had started.
Reluctantly and with a great sigh I let myself go back to applying it.
As much as I didn't want to wear it, I knew it was probably expected of
me. The stupid body wouldn't have started applying it if it wasn't
expected. I didn't apply much, just some kind of junk to my eyes and
stuff to my lips. I would have called it lipstick, but it wasn't applied
like I'd seen my mom do hers. It was some kind of little brush thingy,
and there was an ever so slight glittery like look to them. It wasn't
glitter, but my lips were shinier than what I thought lipstick would be.
Whatever, I was just happy when I "felt" done, and I turned to go back
into my room. This time I studied the room more carefully. My room
hadn't changed as much as I thought it would. I wasn't sure if that made
me happy (that it still felt like my room) or sad (that it hadn't
required much to make it more feminine). This was clearly a girl's room
now.
I just shook my head and waved away the changes like I didn't care. I
meant to head to the door, but as I went by my dresser I stopped and
grabbed a pair of really dainty, pretty little pink socks out of a
drawer and pulled them over my feet. They were surprisingly comfortable
and warm based on how little I thought they would protect my toes. I
would have pulled them back off immediately if it wasn't for the fact
that they matched my pajamas perfectly. I liked that.
NO, I DID NOT!
What was happening to me? Was I really being mind-controlled? Since when
did I ever care if my socks matched my pajamas? And granted, I'd only
ever had white crew socks in my drawers before and never really had to
worry about matching them with anything, but still, why did I suddenly
care?! Why was I constantly at war with myself?
I began hyperventilating again for a moment until I heard somebody
yelling up the stairs. I didn't know what was said, but the tone clearly
was a question asking if I was going to join the family anytime soon.
I took a second and tried to calm my nerves, then I opened my door and
walked out into the hallway before I chickened out.
There! I did it! I was out of my room! No, no, no! I was out of my room!
Other people were going to see me like this!
"Mom says to hurry!" a voice called from the top of the stairs. I
turned, and I saw Tim standing there looking at me like I was ruining
Christmas. Maybe I was. I was being so self-absorbed by myself that I
was keeping my little brothers from being able to open their presents.
Clearly Tim wasn't looking at me and seeing a girl he had never seen
before. He was looking at his older sister who needed to come down the
stairs right now so he could open his presents!
"Sorry, I'm coming," I said, hearing my new voice for the first time.
I'd spoken before to Mom, but I hadn't noticed then how high and
feminine it was. All that wonderful deepness I'd gained from puberty was
gone now.
Tim didn't have the same small panic attack I'd just had. He just smiled
widely, turned, and quickly went back down the stairs. I had no choice
but to follow.
As I descended into the great room I saw that Santa hadn't passed up our
house. There were presents all over the place. My mom always seemed to
go overboard with presents at Christmas. That wasn't a bad thing. It was
also plain to see that she had allowed my brothers to open one gift each
to keep them occupied while they waited for me.
As I reached the bottom I saw Dad sitting on a chair next to the couch,
at the base of the stairs. He looked up at me and smiled.
"There she is," he said, pulling me into a hug. "How's my little
princess?"
Without waiting for an answer he let go of the hug and kissed me on the
forehead. I couldn't help but notice that he didn't even need to stand
up to reach me, I was so short!
"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, clearly concerned.
"I think I slept a little too okay," I replied, which caused him to
laugh. His laugh was one of the best and most comfortable sounds in my
life. I loved when he laughed, and hearing it now helped me to feel
better about my predicament. I really, really, didn't want this. But at
least I was still here with a wonderful father, a loving mother, and my
darling but frequently bratty little brothers.
Dad nodded at me and then let me go. I looked up to the part of the
couch where I usually sat on Christmas morning, right next to the
Christmas tree. But Sam was sitting there with a pile of presents that
were clearly for him. I scanned the rest of the room until I found where
I was supposed to be now, in this new reality. Next to Mom was a pile of
presents that were obviously for me, or at least, for whomever I was
now. Santa's wrapping paper was always unique and shared between all of
the members of the family. But the other presents in that pile, the
stuff from my parents, were clearly wrapped differently than the others.
Well, different from the "boys" anyway. I apparently didn't fall into
that category anymore as the wrapping paper was definitely more
feminine.
I smiled at my mom as I took my seat on the couch next to her. She
looked at me lovingly and there was no hint of the concern I had seen
earlier. Clearly she was not surprised to see me as a girl. None of them
were.
What did surprise me, however, was when Sam got up from his seat,
grabbed my favorite blanket from the stack next to the fireplace, and
brought it over to me. He never, ever, would have done something like
that before!
"Thank you," I said while giving him a smile and taking it from him. His
whole face lit up like I had just made his day! Curious. And weird.
Everything was weird now!
As he headed back to his seat I unfolded the blanket and wrapped it
around me to keep me warm. When I was done I was surprised as Tim ran up
to me, waving an action figure.
"Katy, Katy! Did you see what Santa brought me?" he said and finally
stopped waving the toy long enough for me to see that it was Spiderman.
"Wow!" I replied, almost on instinct. "That is amazing!"
He just grinned at me as big as Sam had, then turned and ran back to his
seat to get ready to open more presents.
Like I said - weird!
I was Katy now, apparently. It wasn't a bad name. It certainly was
better than a lot of other names I could think of. I could live with it.
But I still hoped I wouldn't have to.
"Hurry and open a present," somebody said. I looked up and saw that it
was Harry.
"Uh, okay," I said before looking down at the pile that had been placed
next to my new seat while I had still been upstairs. I'd taken long
enough that somebody had passed out all of the gifts from under the
tree. I wasn't sure which one to grab first, and apparently took longer
than I should.
"You better hurry, Kate," Mom said next to me. "They have clearly been
waiting too long."
I chuckled, and grabbed the one on top of the pile. Despite everything
that had happened to me, it was still Christmas morning, and I was
opening my presents! I tore off the wrapping paper. The anticipation of
what it could be was almost as exciting as whatever was inside. It
always had been to me. This was no exception.
Until I saw what it was! It was a new eyeshadow set. Something I now
recognized but hadn't even known what it was called earlier when I'd
applied this junk to my eyes. I expected to feel let down, but instead a
huge smile spread across my face and I felt as giddy as if I had just
unwrapped a new remote control car or something!
I COULDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS HAPPENING!
"Oh, Mom!" I exclaimed, turning to her in excitement. "It's the exact
one I wanted!"
I reached over and gave her a hug. I knew it had come from her. Nobody
in this house would have been able to pick it out so well. I hadn't even
told her that I wanted it, but she had somehow known exactly the right
one to get, maybe even better than me!
Well duh - of course better than me! I didn't even know how to put on
eyeshadow let alone how to pick it out at the store! But somehow, some
way, as I let go of her and sat back in my seat, I started to imagine
how pretty my eyes would look using the different shades in the set.
"Whatever," Dennis said, clearly not as enamored with eyeshadow as I now
was. "My turn."
He picked up a package and started to unwrap it. I was curious enough to
lay my new gift down and see what he had received. It was a remote
control car. I almost groaned at my luck, until I realized that it just
didn't appeal to me as much as I thought it would. It still had some
appeal, but not in the way it would have if I was still George. After
all, what use would a remote control car be for me?
I almost started crying again. I wanted a remote control car, not
eyeshadow! Why was this happening? What did I do to deserve this? I
thought for a second that something - some magic, or somebody - was
messing with my head. But I honestly didn't think that they were. It
wasn't like this was a foreign feeling to me. It just felt like I was
different now. I didn't know how to describe it properly because it
would always sound like somebody was manipulating me, but the truth was
I knew for sure that nobody was. I just couldn't explain how I knew
this, I just did.
To be clear, I didn't want to be a girl. I would gladly change back in
an instant. I didn't all of a sudden accept what had happened. The idea
of going back into the bathroom to, well, do bathroom things still
freaked me out and I didn't want to experience any of that again. The
unbidden thought that came to my mind next was of the other things I
would have to worry about now if I didn't find a way back to being
George, and it scared me to death! I'd never heard girls say anything
good about any of it. To be honest, I had never heard girls say anything
about it, but I've never heard anyone say anything good about it, and I
had heard things on TV and stuff. There'd been a whole section on
reproduction in health class, and the thought of what we had talked
about actually made me feel sick to my stomach. That was the first
feeling that I, George, had felt since waking up that had actually
physically come to pass. I'd come close on other things, but none of it
had shown in the real world. But this one clearly had, based on the look
my mom was giving me.
"Are you okay?" she mouthed at me.
I nodded back at her. It was mostly, but not entirely, true. I was
great. I felt better than I had my entire life. I felt like I had more
energy. I felt like this new person that was clearly better off. But I
also wasn't George.
"Are you..." she mouthed again, and then made some motion that I didn't
understand at first, and then the thought of that drawer I had
accidently opened leapt into my mind and I knew what she was talking
about.
"No," I mouthed back while shaking my head in fear. I was shaking it
probably too much, based on her look of worry, but at least that wasn't
the reason why I was sick to my stomach.
I sat there, watching my family opening their presents, one at a time
around the circle, while also trying to figure out what to do. What had
caused this? What did I need to do to reverse it? I didn't even know
where to start.
"Open this one, Katy," Tim said and handed me a large box that had been
at the bottom of my pile. I had been so distracted the rest of the way
around the circle that I hadn't noticed that the pile had now fallen
over as he pulled it out. He looked almost as excited as if it was his
own present, but he wasn't old enough yet to know that it was clearly
clothes, based on the size and shape of the box.
I smiled at him, and took the box. Why wasn't I mad at him? I probably
would have yelled at him if he had done that yesterday. But today, well,
things were different. There was no malicious intent. He just wanted me
to open one of the biggest boxes in my pile, just like he had been
doing. He wanted his sister to be happy. And some crazy new part of me
wanted to make him happy. That certainly wasn't a part of myself that
was very familiar to me. I never wanted to make him unhappy, but I
couldn't say that his emotions were one of the top things I thought
about most yesterday.
In fact, yesterday, while he had been in time-out on the couch near me,
I had ignored him completely while I read my book. But today's memory,
as I was unwrapping the gift, was different. I had still been there
reading, but every once in a while, when Mom wasn't looking, I made a
face at him causing him to laugh. Of course, I was just sitting there
reading my book when Mom looked over from the kitchen to see what had
made him laugh, though She probably knew, but also she likely wanted me
to do it too.
I was right. Clothes. It was a pair of the thinnest, tightest looking
jeans I had ever seen and a very beautiful knit top that would go with
it well, to be precise. And just like with the eyeshadow, I was super
excited about it!
I had always enjoyed getting clothes as presents before. But it was for
an entirely different reason. I liked looking nice, but previously when
I got clothes as a present before it always meant that I didn't have to
go to the store and pick something out. Now, however, it was
surprisingly awesome to see clothes that I actually wanted, not just
that I probably needed. I was surprised to find out that my desire to
look good seemed to have been amped up. Again, it didn't feel unnatural,
and I knew with all of my heart that it wasn't from some kind of
manipulation by the 'powers that be'. I just really, really, liked those
clothes.
The morning continued that way. The boys kept getting 'boys' presents,
and I kept getting 'girls' presents. And I was totally fine with that!
Granted, not all of the presents I got were girls' stuff. In fact, I got
quite a few of the things that had been on my wish list as George. Some
of them were clearly more feminine than what I'd had in my mind when I
made the list, but they were perfect anyway. I even got a Kindle! It was
the one thing I had wanted more than anything all year, and Santa had
brought one for me. I was happy to note that it was still the most
exciting gift that I had received. It was way better than the makeup or
clothes or other miscellaneous presents that I had opened. It made me
feel a bit more masculine to know it beat out those other presents.
Until I realized that it was a better present than even a car would have
been. That was definitely different than how I'd felt the day before.
---
I sighed and laid down on my bed, after I carted all of my new things up
to my room after we'd opened all the gifts and ate breakfast. When I had
awakened this morning, I thought my world had crumbled. But it clearly
hadn't. My family still loved me, even if they no longer knew who I had
been. However, that didn't seem like the tragedy I thought it had been.
In fact, I'd even gotten out of shoveling the snow from the driveway!
Dad had told Harry to do it!
Before I could delve into that thought any further there was a knock on
my door, and then my mother opened it slightly and looked in.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, sitting up and sliding my back to rest against the
headboard. She came in and took a seat on the bed next to me.
"Are you sure you are alright?" she asked again. Clearly she knew
something was off about me, but I didn't think that there was anything I
could say that would make her believe the truth.
"Yes," I replied while nodding. "Everything is fine. I promise."
She looked at me as if she knew I was lying. It made me laugh.
"I promise, Mom," I said, smiling at her. "I'm fine. I just
feel...different. I feel like I woke up and I'm this new person. It
doesn't really feel that different. I don't feel like I need to go out
and get tattoos or anything. I just feel like the person I was yesterday
is not the same person I am today. I'm just trying to figure out what
that means."
She smiled at me like she knew something that I didn't. I had a flash of
worry that she had been responsible for this. That she had somehow done
this to me. But I knew she hadn't. In the same way I knew that I wasn't
being manipulated and that she wasn't behind whatever had caused this.
"You know what I think it is?" she asked me while reaching out and
stroking the hair on the left side of my face, ending with tucking it
behind my ear.
"What?" I said, confused at what her answer would be.
"I think you are finally becoming a woman," she said. I almost laughed
out loud. It was the same reaction I'd had all day...almost coming to
the surface, but never quite getting there. The only time it had was
when I'd gotten sick to my stomach while we were opening presents.
I must have made some face that made my mother think that she was right,
because she continued.
"Yep, that is it," she said, seemingly convinced. "My little baby girl
is now a woman. I knew this day would come. It won't be long before you
leave me and go to college. Then I'll be stuck with all of these boys."
That time I did laugh out loud at her words. Today was the first time
since she had moved into this house that she actually had another girl
living with her. She'd been "stuck with all those boys" ever since I'd
been born. Or, at least, since the other me had been born. I now
realized that there had been a few years, at least in this dimension or
universe or existence, or whatever this was, that the girls outnumbered
the boys in this house. At least until Harry had been born.
"Mom," I mock complained. "I'm only 15. There are still years until that
happens."
"Maybe," she said. "But it feels like it was just yesterday that I
changed your diaper for the first time, or took you to ballet class.
Before we know it I'll be dropping you off at a dorm and then crying all
the way home."
She had tears in her eyes. Then, all of a sudden, I had tears in my
eyes! I had never really thought about what would happen at that time in
my life, but the thought of not having my mom there with me was a
horrible one. It didn't matter if I was George, or if I was Katy, or
Kate, or whoever I was now. I reached over and wrapped her in a hug.
"Even if I'm not here, you will always be my mom and I will always be
there for you just like you will always be there for me," I said, and I
was crying just as much as she was now. But it was happy crying. The
tears had started out painful, but had changed. I was so grateful for my
mom and for how happy we were together. It felt like we were closer than
we had ever been before. I really, really liked that.
We sat like that for a bit, holding onto and hugging one another.
Eventually, she let go and stood up.
"You need to get ready for the day," she said even though she was still
in her own pajamas. "We have a lot to do today still, and you promised
me you would wear that new dress to your Aunt Carol's tonight."
I rolled my eyes. She loved getting me into dresses. I didn't mind
wearing them, but I certainly didn't like doing it as often as she
wanted me to. It was apparently the right response for her, because she
chuckled and left my room, presumably to get ready herself.
It was almost two whole minutes later when I realized I had never worn a
dress in my life and was worried about the memories that were telling me
otherwise!
---
I stared at myself in the mirror again. This time I didn't have any
clothes on and it was really, really, weird! It was kind of like looking
at an alien. I knew that boys and girls were different; I'd seen
pictures that a friend had shown me of a naked woman, but that lady
didn't look anything like what I was seeing now. Clearly, she hadn't
been a good representation of an average female body.
I had to take a shower. That was the only reason why I had taken off my
clothes! I hadn't wanted to see anything, but a glimpse at the mirror as
I walked from my room into the bathroom had changed that plan.
What was even worse was that I had expected some certain "feelings" at
seeing a naked girl, but they weren't there, and that scared me! I
refused to think about the alternative, and instead turned toward the
shower. I just needed to get this done and get myself covered again.
I let my mind go blank. I didn't want to experience this. I just wanted
this body to do what it needed to do and then let me go on with this
horrible experience. Hopefully this was just some kind of 'Christmas
Carol' thing and this was just the part about Christmas Present or
something, and it would all eventually go away.
I was really annoyed when after I turned on the shower, my body
immediately went to the toilet and sat down again! I had not planned on
that! I just blanked out my mind and tried to ignore what was happening
but it was just as horrible and weird as the first time! Finally I stood
up, but instead of getting right into the shower I grabbed something
that was hanging from a hook on the shower door and then put it on my
head before stuffing all of my hair into it. It was only then that I
climbed into the shower.
It was weird too, and I was tired of weird. I wanted normal. But I
wasn't getting it as my body did its thing and washed everything. I did
my best to ignore it all, but even this most basic function of
cleanliness was different from what I was used to. I thought that taking
a shower would just be taking a shower, but that wasn't the case!
Eventually, it was over. As I toweled myself off, I caught myself
staring at myself again in the mirror.
Finally, I was able to just pull myself away and walk back into my room
to get dressed. If I was dressed then I hoped that things would feel
more normal. I certainly had felt fairly normal while wearing pajamas,
even if things were different.
But no, that wasn't to be either. I wasn't sure how to pick out clothes
for this body and instead relied on my subconscious to do it for me. It
betrayed me - again! I wanted normal clothes, but it wanted to please my
mother. Instead of a nice pair of jeans and a T-shirt, it pulled from my
closet the dress my mom had been talking about earlier. While I had no
desire to wear the thing, I did have to admit that it felt amazing as I
touched it. It was a red velvet dress that wasn't necessarily made for
Christmas, but it certainly fit the bill for a Christmas party.
I laid it on my bed and then walked to the dresser and started pulling
out all of the other things that girls had to wear. Some of it I
ignored, not wanting to think about them. I knew girls wore all this
stuff but I wanted to see them wearing these clothes, not me! I just let
my mind wander as I pulled on all of the under things, and rolled some
kind of long, thin, black, socky things up my legs, and then finally
pulled the dress over my head. Then I felt myself turn toward the full-
length mirror that was now in my room, and that somehow I hadn't noticed
yet. Great...
At least the girl in the mirror was dressed this time. I felt a lot
better, but the girl was absolutely stunning in that red velvet dress!
Her hair was somewhat disheveled, and she wasn't wearing any makeup, but
the way she looked in that dress was amazing! Her black legs were also
very sexy looking. I thought I had been pulling on some long socks, but
my mind now told me that these were stockings, whatever difference that
made. I wanted to have those "feelings" while looking at her, but they
were absent once again. Maybe that was for the best, since this was me I
was looking at.
I sighed, and returned to the bathroom, opened the correct drawer this
time, and pulled out a brush. I was curious if I could do this myself,
and tried to mimic what my body had done earlier, pulling the brush
through my hair. I was doing better than last time, but clearly I still
needed practice and instead I let that "muscle-memory" take over. I
didn't want to spend all day in here. Besides, I still didn't know how
to do anything with the makeup.
Once everything was done, using some of the new makeup I'd gotten for
Christmas, I smiled at the beautiful girl in the mirror and decided to
go see what the rest of the family was doing. I still had no clue what
to do to change back, and I kind of wanted to just enjoy Christmas with
my family anyway. I surprised myself when I grabbed two small red-
wrapped Christmas presents that had been on my dresser before I headed
toward the door.
Stepping out of my room this time was completely different. I'd been
nervous before, but not this time. I'd already met my family, and they
clearly knew who Kate was, even if I didn't.
As I went down the stairs into the great room I heard most of my family
in the den playing some video game. I could also tell that my mom was
baking again, because of the enticing aroma from the kitchen, but she
wasn't there right now. But what mostly caught my eye was Sam. He had
set up some kind of target on one of the couches and was shooting at it
with a crossbow toy that I remembered him opening earlier this morning.
"Sam?" I said when I reached the bottom of the stairs. He turned to look
at me, and when he saw me, his whole expression went crestfallen.
"No," he said. "Don't make me go outside. It's too cold."
I chuckled, and set the presents I was holding on a table near the
hallway to the front door before I turned back to him.
"You don't have to go outside," I said while approaching him. "But do
you remember what we talked about?"
Fortunately he nodded his head, because I had no idea what we had talked
about. What I had said was clearly another manifestation of whatever
this new person I had become would have said. I didn't know what to say
or do next, other than to let my body do it for me, which it did once
again.
I stepped over to him and then leaned down to where my head was next to
his, looking toward where he had set up the target.
"Do you see anything around the target that could break?" I asked him.
He looked around, hopefully seeing potential problems for the first
time.
"The vase?" he asked, looking up at me for confirmation.
"The vase," I confirmed. He had set up his target on the couch that had
the end table behind it, instead of the one against the wall. It gave
him a longer distance to shoot, but it also led to the possibility he
could hit whatever was on the end table. In this case it was the exact
vase that he had broken the day before, at least in my real existence.
I straightened up, walked over to where the target was and picked it up.
Then I moved it to the other couch. After I placed it there I turned
back to Sam.
"What about now?" I asked.
He looked hard, trying to see if there was anything that would break if
he shot and missed the target. The foam dart of the crossbow was less
likely to break anything when compared to the BB gun he got in trouble
with yesterday, but it was the principle that mattered.
"But I can't shoot as far there," he whined. I chuckled. I had just
moved him from shooting lengthwise across the room to widthwise.
"I know," I said, bending down so we were on the same level again. "But
if you are going to shoot inside the house you have to make some
concessions to do it safely. Otherwise Mom will ban you from shooting in
the house at all. Is that what you want?"
"No," he said, and let his head hang down.
"When it warms up then you can go outside and you can shoot as far as
you want," I told him. "But if you want to shoot it inside you have to
do it this way, okay?"
"Okay," he said. He didn't seem very happy, but he loaded his little
crossbow as I stood up and then he shot it at the new target.
I smiled at him, and then walked into the kitchen to see what Mom was
making. All of the ovens were off, which meant she was probably done.
But she had pulled a cake out of the oven not too long ago. It was still
cooling, since she hadn't iced it yet. She hadn't even started making
the frosting.
Without really realizing what I was doing, I began to pull a few things
out of the fridge and the cupboards. Then I went into the pantry to
retrieve a bag of powdered sugar. I had just set everything on the
counter and moved the mixer into position when I heard my mom speak.
"No, Kate," she said with a chuckle. "Any other day I would be glad for
your help, but I am not going to let you do anything in the kitchen
while wearing that dress."
"Oh," I replied. "This is a "get out of chores free" dress, huh?"
Mom laughed at those words and I laughed with her. It didn't help that
she was wearing a very nice dress now too.
"You know what I mean, and we both know baking is no chore," she said
with a smile. "That dress was way too expensive to be baking in,
though."
"Do you want me to go change?" I asked. "I can help."
"I know, sweetie," she said. "But you look too beautiful to go change.
Besides, this is all there is left to do. We are eating at Carol's
tonight and she is doing the hard work. I'm just making a cake."
I nodded, and then picked up a banana from the counter. I wasn't very
hungry, since we had eaten breakfast late, but it was already mid-
afternoon.
"Do you want me to make you a sandwich or anything?" she asked, seeing
me pick up the banana. "The others have already had lunch."
"No," I said. "This will hold me over until dinner."
A banana? Seriously? Since when has a banana ever been enough to eat
between breakfast and dinner? This girl was so weird!
Mom nodded, and I decided to head for the den to see what everyone was
playing.
I peeled open the banana while I was walking and took a bite. It tasted
way better than I remembered bananas tasting. I'd always liked bananas,
but if they had always been like this, I would eat them more often.
There was a cheer of victory from Harry as I rounded the corner to the
den and a sigh of frustration from my Dad. He had clearly lost in some
game I had never seen before. It must have been a Christmas present for
one of my brothers earlier this morning.
Dad saw me enter, and with a smile, stood up.
"Great timing, Kate," he said, holding the controller out to me.
"Aw, Dad," Harry said. "Best out of three!"
"We will, I promise," he told them. "But I have to go to the bathroom.
Give your sister a turn and we can finish when I get back."
That was clearly not what Harry wanted, but he sighed in agreement. Dad
held the controller out to me expectantly, and I stepped forward and
took it from him as he rushed out the door behind me.
"Are you ready to lose to a girl?" I asked mockingly as I walked around
the couch to where Dad had been sitting. I'd generally been pretty good
at this type of game and I knew I had a good chance against Harry.
Harry, on the other hand, laughed like I had no chance. Whatever. I just
took another bite of my banana before setting it down on the end table
and then focused on the screen.
A few minutes later I sighed in defeat. I'd done pretty well, but it was
clear I wasn't as good as I had been yesterday. It wasn't that I didn't
have the skills anymore, I clearly did. It felt more like I was
unpracticed. Clearly, in this reality, I still played video games, but
not nearly as often as I did in the old one.
"Ha!" Harry said, happy that he had beaten me. "Again?"
Dad was standing behind the couch now, grinning. It seemed to me like he
had been rooting for me, but I couldn't be sure.
"You better finish your best of three with Dad," I said, surprising
myself as I handed my dad the controller, then I picked up my banana and
stood up to give him his seat back.
What was I doing?! I wanted to play again!
I sighed and took another bite of the banana, and walked back around the
couch toward the door as the two of them recommenced their rivalry. I
leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching them while finishing
my banana. I still couldn't believe I had willingly given up the
controller.
I had just thrown the peel into the trash next to the doorway when the
doorbell rang. Since the den was just off the hallway next to the front
door, I turned around, walked to the door and opened it.
When I saw who was standing there, two distinctly different emotions
coursed through my body. It was one of the weirdest things I have ever
experienced!
Standing there, with a huge grin on his face, was none other than Julian
Crawford. I was confused about why he was here at my house, especially
after the bloody nose I had given him a couple of weeks before. But it
was the second emotion that really worried me. I'd been looking for a
certain feeling when I'd been looking at myself in my mirror earlier
today, but never found it. Well, I found it now! I had clear feelings
for Julian Crawford! It was nice! But also, really, really gross!
I felt like my whole body was trembling seeing him there. There was this
tingle all up and down my spine that I had never felt before! He was
just standing there, grinning at me like he had just won the jackpot,
and it was doing weird things to me.
"You look amazing!" he exclaimed, and I spontaneously smiled widely.
Why? What was happening?
He stared at me for a bit longer, but I apparently couldn't find my
words either. Eventually, he stepped closer, and I wasn't sure what he
was going to do, but then he stepped back again before speaking.
"Hi, Mister D.," he said with a grin while looking at my father who was
now standing behind me.
I just rolled my eyes. My dad was way too overprotective. That reaction
seemed to affect Julian and he started laughing for a minute.
"I'm sorry, Katy," he said, using the version of my name that, up until
this point, had only been used by my youngest brother. "We're leaving to
go to my Nana's house, but I wanted to make sure that you got your
present first."
"Thank you," I said, still smiling too broadly as I took it from him. He
turned to leave, and I had a moment of panic before calling out. "Wait!"
He stopped, and I rushed back down the hall and grabbed one of the
presents I had brought down from my room. I quickly checked the gift tag
to make sure that it said 'Julian', then I rushed back to the door and
handed it to him.
He smiled as he took it, and then we shared a look. At first I didn't
know what it meant, but then I almost blushed when I realized it was the
"look" we had come up with that we could do instead of kissing in front
of our parents. My whole body tingled again and my heart warmed up as he
turned and rushed back to the minivan that was waiting for him. I
continued watching until they were heading down the road before I turned
and closed the front door behind me.
"Did your boyfriend bring you a kiss for Christmas?" Dennis mocked. It
wasn't enough to ruin this wonderful feeling though. He'd understand
when he was older. I just ignored him and continued humming to myself as
I walked down the hallway and took a seat on the couch next to the
Christmas tree to open my present.
What I found inside, however, confused me all over again. It was a book.
In fact, it was the book I most wanted today. I'd had plans to go get my
new Kindle and use the gift card I'd gotten with it to buy it as my
first digital book. But I couldn't do that now! I wanted to read the
copy Julian had given me instead. One small gift from such a wonderful
boyfriend had just trumped the best gift I had received from Santa.
I was so confused! I didn't know Julian very well, or at least I hadn't
before today. Memories kept popping up in my head that made me realize I
knew him a whole lot better today than I had yesterday. And those
memories were conflicting. Julian had always been more athletic than
studious, and yet he had given me a book that most jocks probably had
never even heard of. Anyone could have gone out and bought it if I had
just told him what I wanted, but my memory told me I hadn't. And the
inscription that he had written on the inside cover clearly let me know
that it was also one of his favorite books. But Julian didn't read! Or
at least, I didn't think he did. But in all of my new memories he seemed
smarter. He seemed like he cared about his grades. I was certain that he
cared about me.
Was it possible that just being my boyfriend had changed him like that?
He seemed like he was such a different person, a better person in these
new memories. Had I had that kind of an effect on him? Somehow? Could
that be possible?
I wasn't sure. I just nestled into the pillows of the couch and turned
the page to start reading.
It wasn't until after I had finished Chapter 4 that I felt disgusted to
realize I had a boyfriend, and at how I had reacted to him!
---
"Ten minutes, Kate!" I heard my mom call as I stepped out of my room
later that night.
"I'm ready, Mom!" I replied as I started down the stairs again. I'd been
ready all day! I had just gone up to get my shoes, a pair of low pumps
that would match my outfit perfectly. "I just need to run a present over
to Becky, quickly."
She just rolled her eyes like she knew there was always something more I
had to do. That was why she had called out the warning that we were
leaving soon. Apparently, I wasn?t as punctual in this reality as George
was.
Or maybe I was! I mean, I was already ready. It wasn?t like I was still
up in my room getting dressed or anything!
I sighed. Memories coming to my mind seemed to indicate that I still
liked being as punctual as I could, but I didn?t always accomplish it.
Perhaps that was why Mom said what she did.
I went down the stairs, grabbed the other Christmas present I had
brought down earlier and continued toward the front door. I paused only
long enough to slip my feet into the pumps and grab a really, really
nice warm coat from the coat closet before I stepped outside. Seriously,
I had never had a coat that nice as George!
I was already down our own driveway and turning onto the sidewalk before
I realized that I was outside, in public, for the first time as a girl!
People other than my family were going to see me now. What if one of
them remembered who I really was? The thought passed quickly, however.
Nobody had remembered George yet, and I doubted that anyone would.
Whatever had changed me had changed everything. Only I wasn?t different.
Except I was. I kept doing things I never would have done. I kept
feeling things I had never felt before. I might be the same me, but
clearly I had changed too.
I just sighed as I walked up the driveway of the house next door to us
and headed for the door. This was Becky?s house. She?d been my only
girlfriend before today. We?d known each other since we were little. We
thought that having that relationship would help us evolve it into
something more, but it had only taken two months for us to realize we
had been better friends than anything else.
Now, she was my best friend in the whole world. Besides my mom, of
course. I had a similar, but also completely different, giddiness as I
bound up the steps to her door as I?d had for Julian earlier. It was
just as strong, but didn?t have that other "feeling" with it. I thought
I?d had friends as George, but clearly I didn?t know what that term
truly meant until now.
As she opened the door, we hugged as if we were identical sisters. It
was a closeness I had never felt with anyone before. Well, there was my
mom again. We were probably as close, but it was different.
Becky and I were inseparable, at least according to the memories that
were flooding into my brain. We had still known each other as long as we
had when I was George, but clearly we had become closer friends in this
reality than in the real one. Other one. Whatever.
As we were giddily hugging each other we were catching one another up on
our day faster than I thought two people could actually conduct a
conversation. I realized that there had been this craving, this desire,
that I?d had all day that I hadn?t been able to act on until now. Becky
had been at her grandmother?s house all day, and now that she was home,
I was leaving to go to Aunt Carol?s. It seemed unfair, and we had to
pack all of our Christmas excitement and experiences into just 10
minutes! I was totally amazed at how adept and efficient we were at
doing that, only stopping when Dad yelled at me a second time from where
he, and the rest of the family, had already gotten into the van and were
waiting for me on the road.
I gave Becky one last hug, and we exchanged presents, before I hurried
down her driveway and climbed inside the van.
---
"Pete," I nearly growled at my annoying cousin. "If you don?t stop
staring at me like that, I?m going to start avoiding you! I?m your
cousin!"
Plus I had a boyfriend, but I didn?t tell him that. Pete had always been
annoying. He was my age, but he was Aunt Carol?s middle child. I had
never really enjoyed spending time with him. But now, in this new
reality, it was horrible. He kept staring at me in the same way I
remembered staring at beautiful girls, and that made me really
uncomfortable. Especially since he was my cousin! Julian, on the other
hand, could stare at me that way all he wanted.
Then I almost choked up the piece of cake I had been eating! I didn?t
want to have feelings like that! At least, not for Julian. But of course
I didn?t choke in this reality. It was like all of those feelings and
desires I?d had as George throughout the day, except for that one scary,
horrible one this morning, just couldn?t break through into this new
reality. Instead, in this reality, I just stared Pete down until he
finally turned away. Shortly thereafter he stood up, and I was grateful
that he left the room.
Christmas at Aunt Carol?s hadn?t been too different from other times my
family had been at her house. People treated me differently, and I was
wearing a dress for goodness sake, but everything else was pretty much
the same. Except Pete, of course.
Dinner was fantastic. The cake Mom had made was melting in my mouth.
Even the stupid white elephant gifts were enjoyable.
Aunt Carol doted on me a bit more than normal. Like Mom, she had been
saddled with all boys, only three to Mom?s five, but clearly females
were a minority between our two families. Some of Mom?s other siblings
had more girls, and they were here too, but Mom and Aunt Carol had
always been close, and she was treating me as if I was her own daughter.
It appeared that she was trying to live out her desire to have her own
girl through me. It certainly seemed like I also had a closer
relationship with her than I?d had before, at least. Uncle Stan, on the
other hand, seemed a bit more distant. He clearly seemed happy he hadn?t
been saddled with any girls.
What my time at Aunt Carol?s house showed me, though, was that it didn?t
matter who or what I was. My family loved me just the same. I was lucky
enough in this world to have an immediate family and an extended family
that had my wellbeing at heart. Some family members even more than
others. My mom was the second oldest in her family, and as her oldest,
and the oldest girl of my generation, I was clearly a role model to the
young daughters of Mom?s siblings. They kept trying to spend time with
me and get me to hang out with them, but since the next oldest girl in
our family was 10, that wasn?t the most exciting thing to do. However I
still did it for a little bit.
Why? I didn?t know. I didn?t know why I did most of the weird things I
had done today. Clearly this new person that I was now cared more about
other people than I had before.
There, I said it.
It wasn?t until we had returned home and I was back in my pajamas, in my
bed, talking to my mom that I had that realization. I hadn?t been some
kind of monster as George, but clearly I had more empathy for others now
than I?d had then.
"You really are a different person today," my mom said, causing me to
almost choke. "I don?t know how many times I?ve seen you frustrated with
Pete before, but you?ve never said anything. I?m proud of the strength
you showed today."
"Well he is my cousin," I replied.
Mom laughed.
"True," she said. "But that doesn?t mean that it didn?t take courage and
strength. I?ve been watching you today, and I like this new person
you?ve become. She affects those around her in more positive ways than I
can count. I hope she sticks around."
I groaned, at least inwardly. I really hoped that she didn?t stick
around. I wanted George back. Yes, there were some good things that came
out of today. Mom never had to yell at any of us. She did seem happier.
That wish had clearly come true. And I realized on the drive home from
Aunt Carol?s, that it had also buoyed my own spirits. It had to have
been the wish that had done this. I?d wished for her to be happy, and
she clearly was. Why I had to be a girl for that to happen was beyond
me, but it had worked. I was glad that she could have at least one happy
day, because that was all it was going to be. I had been pretty clear in
that wish. I?d wished that she would be happy for tomorrow, which was
today. That meant that when I woke up in the morning, I?d be George
again. And that made me happy too.
Mom and I sat on my bed for a while, leaning our heads against each
other and rocking slightly. It was a more intimate moment than I could
ever remember having with my mother before, and I doubted that I would
get a chance to have again after I changed back. I just wanted to
cherish it for now and remember it for later. Eventually, though, she
kissed me good night, closed my door and headed for her own room.
I climbed out of my own bed and approached the window. This was nothing
like the type of Christmas I had expected this year, but it also wasn?t
one I wanted to change. This was an experience that I would never
forget. I never, ever wanted to do it again, but I would never forget
it!
The moon shone down on the street outside my window, just like it had
the night before. It was even snowing again. The sky was just as
cloudless, and the magic was no less than it had been the night before.
As I stood and looked out the window, I discovered the answer to a
question that I hadn?t realized had been bugging me since yesterday. My
mom had asked for my help yesterday, and I hadn?t known what she meant.
But now, I knew. She hadn?t wanted me to do a chore or anything in
particular. She?d wanted me to be a better example for my brothers.
She?d wanted me to help them to be better people. She?d wanted me to do
everything that Kate had done today. I now knew why that wish had come
to pass the way it did. It was the only way I would have seen the
difference. It was the only way to learn how to be a better person. I
would always be grateful for that.
I started to turn back toward my bed, but a flash of light caught my
vision. I looked up. It was another shooting star streaking across the
sky. It looked identical to the one I had seen the night before. A warm
feeling passed through me as I realized that the magic was real, and I
knew what I needed to do.
I opened my mouth to make the wish.
"I wish my mom could be happy forever."