BEASTLY

vi. i put a spell on you

Mitch Grassi

What the hell just happened to me? You know that feeling you get when you've been hit by a bus? Oh, you've never been hit by a bus before? How about something a little more tangible. How about drinking the entire percentage of water in your body of alcohol, and then experience every feeling the morning after you've puked on everything you own, almost break your neck because you are physically incapable of walking in a straight line (well, walking in general), and then feeling so dizzy that you can't see anything in front of you.

Except I only had two shots. I'm not a lightweight, even considering my small physique. I can hold back my alcohol, so it's definitely not that. All I remember is a flash of red.

And then I remembered. Kirstin, the girl who was more less atrocious to me earlier had done something to me. To my favorite shirt. She poured alcohol all over the front. It wasn't even that fact that pissed me off. Everyone with a brain knows it's easy to remove alcohol stains. I would know... Mommy is a sloppy girl when she's had one too many.

No, it was the fact that this bitch had the nerve to slap me across the face. Thank god the musical was months away, or else I'd be raising more hell. But in any manner, she had no right to slap me. I didn't do anything wrong. I mean, I did think to myself that she was a whore. But the reason that she slapped me was because of that very fact. How the hell did she hear my thoughts? Better yet, what the fuck did she mean about 'witch?' Psycho is more like it.

I winced, refusing to open my eyes. I tried to remember exactly where I collapsed... I was still wearing my Saint Laurent, plastered with Kirstin's ignorance. I think I would have gone go take it off and put on something new. Did I go to my room? I would have wanted go remove the stain first, so maybe I'd gone to the laundry room? I really. Couldn't remember, but the only feeling I had was a pulsating vein on my forehead. In fact, I could even feel it. I must have smashed into the corner of a table or something. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that light would only make it worse.

Wake up. But I am awake. I tried to examine what was around me. The floor was harder than I last recalled. The hallway to the laundry room was carpeted, so unless my unknowing drunk state can alter the feeling of a carpet, I must have been moved to a new location. God, how embarrassing must it have been for somebody to have to pull me to a new room, dealing with a fucking stain on my shirt. They must have thought I was incapable of holding my liquor.

Wake up. Fuck my thoughts. I'm not waking up. I mean, I am awake. And my forehead is pounding harder than before. It's like I could feel the headache spread slowly along my body. It first started in my hand... So I guess it wouldn't be a headache. I must have fallen and caught my hand on something. My wrist was burning, right where my crystal tattoo lay. It was an unnerving feeling, especially as the pain seemingly flowed through my blood and suffocated my skin. But it all led to my head somehow. I reached up, hoping to tug at my hair. God, I really am fucked up. I can't even feel my own hair.

"That's because there's none there, Mitch." The eerie sounding voice penetrated my ears and my eyes peeled open. I immediately began searching for something to hold onto, feeling a falling sensation. But I was on the ground already, and not by my laundry room. I glanced around, soaking in the atmosphere around me as I realized where I was. A natural lot sky, splattered with glimmers of light. An illuminating crystal ball in the sky. Static noise dancing in my ears, humming a familiar tune. I was on the balcony that extended from my room and had no recollection of getting here. And then the voice... that voice. It didn't even sound human. I glanced up in the direction of the voice, seeing nobody there.

That must have been some dream. My hands flew through my hair, realizing that my inability to feel my own hair was just a dream. My entire body pulsing was just a dream, and a fucked up dream at that. I kept my hand on my head, still dealing with a headache on the crown of my head, when I heard that eerie voice again.

"You don't look too good, Mitchell." I swiftly turned my head, catching the source of the distortion. Kirstin. Why didn't I think of it? I upset her and she drugged me.

"What the hell are you doing here, Kirstin?" I stood on my feet and stumbled, grabbing hold of the edge of the balcony. The brisk air caught the back of my neck, but that wasn't what truly sent chills down my spine. It was her voice. It was the most warped noise I'd ever heard. And I feared it.

"I'm here on behalf of every single person you've made feel inferior." She walked towards me, no longer appearing as ghastly as she did earlier. She had on less make up, and her dress appeared less simpler. No chains. She actually looked pretty for once. "Every single thought you've had about anybody at this school. Your sickening attitude towards anybody that you know will crush you in an instance once they're given an opportunity."

"What are you even talking about? My thoughts are just jokes. How the hell can you even read mine?" I only assumed that what had happened earlier wasn't a dream. This didn't feel like one either. I'd have already woken myself up from it... and it became more real once she approached me, touching an icy cold hand on my wrist, puncturing it with invisible daggers. I hissed at the feeling until it turned much warmer, and I glanced down and saw that she'd burnt off the lower half of my shirt. I hadn't even had a chance to wash it yet, but now below the burnt remnants of my shirt a black vein grew out of my skin.

"You have a year to find somebody to love you. Someone who accepts the twisted façade that you walk around with." I couldn't keep my eyes off of the vein in my arm. It looked almost tattoo-esque, now forming a tree stump. From that tree stump grew a full and beautiful tree, leaves were white and pure, and flowers blood red. My favorite tree... the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And yet I was so petrified. I yelped, but she squeezed even harder, the Japanese cherry blossoms practically bleeding on my skin. "One year, until these flowers bloom again. The words "I love you" will release you from the spell, or you'll stay like this forever. A perfect portrayal of your inmost destruction."

I stared at her curiously. Stay like what forever? And then the burning sensation occurred once again on my skin. She pulled away from me and spun me around. I was now facing the glass that shielded the sun room on the top floor of my building. In the glass I saw a reflection of a worthless looking man. He had scars on his face, ugly markings on his scalp, almost resembling varicose veins. And those pupils... such black, soulless pupils.

They belonged to me.

I stood speechless, bringing a hand up to my face to touch my newly tattooed skin. I felt the rigid texture on my cheek, not feeling normal against my natural skin. I turned around, anticipating seeing the witch for some explanation, but she was gone.

One year, until these flowers bloom again.

One year for me to find the one person who would accept me for how I looked.

The words "I love you" will release you from the spell, or you'll stay like this forever.

I would wake up tomorrow and hopefully this would all be a dream, but the scarring on my face felt too real. The pain from the tree felt too real.

The tattoo grew on my forearm right before my eyes. The red was now gone... completely barren, yet it was the most beautiful part of me now... a tree ready to bloom. The roots of the tree bled into my veins, and the tree seemed to move as if it were blowing in the wind. This tree represented my life. And now I had a year to get rid of it. A year to find somebody to love me.

As if it were that easy with a face as beastly as mine.