Swap

Piping down my initial reaction of tumultuous, shocked outburst, I look into the mirror with horror. Gone were the stormy grey eyes, the small black spot just above my lips, and my auburn hair. Gone was my short stature of 5’4” and slim figure; only to be replaced by a tall figure of about 6 feet, with twinkling, electric-blue eyes, jet-black hair, and a baby face painted with confusion and panic. It was the image of a boy who turned 17 two months ago – a boy I had known my whole life, with whom I spent most of my time with, a boy I practically grew up with. Staring back at me with large, addled eyes…was my best friend Neil. I almost start to shriek again, almost, but forcefully push the urge down. This is impossible. This is crazy, even for me.

Maybe I’m dreaming? I quickly sprint to the bed and tuck myself into the safety of my blankets. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to calm my racing heart. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. I repeat the mantra again and again in my head. Sleep doesn’t come. I open my eyes only to see nothing changed. Nothings okay. I’m still Neil. Yep, I’m definitely going crazy.

How did this happen? Slowly yet surely, yesterday’s events come back to me. I was all gloomy over my break-up (we didn’t think it was working anymore) and in an attempt to “cheer me up”; Neil had brought some kind of witchcraft book that he had found in his attic. So we sat down on the floor, cross-legged and perused the book. It actually cheered me up. We decided to elevate our fun and went to make a potion just as a dare. We didn’t really think it would work. But, not surprisingly, my rotten luck has turned against me again. And here I am, a look-alike of me best friend. Anyways, no point crying over spilt milk. Wow, I’m surprisingly calm over this. I think, while going through the book, my eyes had stumbled upon…

‘I’ll be there for you’ starts blaring through my phone. It’s Neil. Yeah, I know, I know…too cliché, Rhea. But this was actually a dare which, needless to say, I lost.

I hesitate before picking it up. What am I going to say to him? He will definitely think I’ve gone crazy. Hell even I believe I’ve gone full-on crazy. But then again, Neil never, calls this early in the morning, ever. Says he needs time away from manipulating, hypnotizing devices to focus on his fine physique. I-pods are an exception of course. So…curiosity gets the better of me. I pick it up only to be greeted by a booming “What the heck, Rhea? I swear I’m going crazy. You probably won’t believe me. But the mojo worked Rhea. I swear this is not one of my awesome jokes. Somehow, I have metamorphosed into you. When I woke up …” My breath catches. Is he experiencing it too?

“Did you just say you have metamorphosed into me?”

“Yes, damn it! Believe me. I didn’t think it would work. But it did. What am I going to do now? I…” My mind does a little happy dance. Yes, the same thing has happened to him. Well let’s have some fun.

“This is a really, really bad joke Neil, even by your standards. What do you think I am? A four year old kid? Really man, how’d you even come up with it? It’s so horrible that it’s hilarious.”

“Did you hear a word I said? I am not joking. I’m damn serious. You drank it too, didn’t you? Why didn’t you change? Why does it always have to me? What am I gonna do? Help me Rhea. Please just…”

I cut him off. “Are you all right Neil? I mean are you feeling okay? What you are saying is impossible. Did you hit your head somewhere? Have you been drinking? Oh my god, Neil, you are on drugs aren’t you? Neil, how could you do that? You didn’t even…”

“Shut up Rhea. Just shut up. You know I’m not on drugs or drinks. Is this a joke to you? I said I look like you and you don’t trust me? I know it’s hard but you gotta believe me. It worked. I don’t know how but it did. My whole career is destroyed now. O god! Rhea you think I’ve become a nut case…”

Unable to hold it any longer, I burst out laughing. It was funny watching him get so worked up, considering he is the one who always calms me down. I hear Neil growling and cursing in the background, but I can’t stop laughing. Tears roll down my eyes and my face starts aching. Finally I bring myself to a stop and decide to put him out of his misery.

“Hey hey, calm down ok? The same thing has happened to me. My beautiful face has magically transformed into your ugly one.”

“WHAT? What? Did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yep sunshine”

“And you are telling me to calm down? How are you not freaking out right now? Are you in your right mind Rhea? Who in the hell laughs in a situation like this? Do you know I’ve died a billion deaths since this morning? And when I tell you about it you just laugh? Would you enlighten me on how did you find humor in this gigantic mess? No, you know what, never mind. My whole life is about to be ruined right about now”

I smirk, “Well then, you should be glad you have such an awesome friend like me. I found a way around this.”

“You did? Damn girl, you’re fast. Great. Do you have all the things you need?”

“Don’t worry. We don’t need much. Just come over. We got a little concocting to do. And Neil…?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you dare touch any of my…your…whatever body part. Got it? You do so much as touch a single lock of hair, and I’ll personally chop your fingers off. And I’m pretty damn serious. Ok? Great! Now get moving.”

I get off the phone and reach out for the book. Written on it in bold black letters is ‘Obligatio Incantio et Potio’. What attracted us to this book was not just its archaic vibe but its bold cover page. Bright colors thrown recklessly over a shady background. Not your usual witches’ manual, you see. Also humans have been a slave before curiosity since their existence.

Anyways, I start rummaging through for the reversal spell. I hadn’t actually found the cure. It was just a bluff. But I am pretty sure it is somewhere in there. I open the withered pages tentatively, reach the one on which the swapping spell was written and look around for the counter-swapping potion. My eyes scan the pages from top to bottom as I leaf through the book. It’s ironic how only yesterday we were skimming the pages and finding amusement in it, laughing at the weird declarations the book made; and now we were searching up for a cure to one of its many utterances that we thought was the most laughable one. Funny how life itself laughs at you.

Two pages and a half hour (hey, I never said I was good at Latin) later, I finally found the cure. I read it carefully. Twice. Great! I have almost everything we need.

Two leaves from Goldthread. Check.

DNA of the victims. Check.

Worms. Check.

Sugar and mint. Check.

A feather. Check.

Talcum powder. Check.

Dog food. Check...

The items on the list got weirder and weirder. But I had them all except Neil’s hair and dog food. Uh-oh! I need to ask him for the dog food. I quickly make the call and ask him. To my great surprise he readily agrees. Guess he’s that desperate. Had the situation been different, he would have thrown a tantrum.

I get to quick work. By the time Neil arrives at my house, the brew looked a sickly green color and was boiling ardently. Like vines trying to trap a rod, black fumes arose from it and flew in dramatic twists and curves to cover each corner of the room. Neil enters the room and wow…he looks exactly like me. He…She…pfft… starts coughing. I instruct him to quickly close the door and hand the items. Neil hands over a tiny package with enough dog food required for the recipe and two strands of his hair. I pull out a strand of my own and pour all of it into the pot.

Instantly, the potion turns pellucid. The foams start forming with more urgency. And then the boiling stops abruptly. It’s ready.

“Inhale quickly Neil. Five deep breaths. Inhale the fumes before it clears out.”

Neil and I take in a lungful of the pungent, nauseating air. And slowly exhale. One down, four to go. We repeat the process four times. All the while, our eyes are shut tightly.

God please! Please, make it work. Let it work. Please, please, please god.

And then I open my eyes and…what? I’m wrapped in blanket. I’m in bed?

I quickly shove down the blanket and extend my arms in front of me. I’m still…me. Nothing’s changed. Oh god, it was just a dream. Well, that explains my profound calmness, and patience in the horror show. Thank goodness, though. I really didn’t want to remember the disgusting ingredients I had conjured up in my dreams. But from the bits and pieces I could remember…it was awful.

I quickly call Neil to tell him to come over. Over lunch, we talk about my hilarious dream. He grumbles a little for picturing him as whiny…but mostly he just laughs. “I can’t believe you actually thought if worm. Ew, Rhea. It’s really disgusting…”

We banter and laugh until we are exhausted and tears are running down my face and my stomach hurts from laughing so much. Yeah, I love my life.