Sweater Town

>Dipper had to scramble on all fours to reach the attic, cursing the skirt Mabel had put him in.
>His stomach was churning from all the sprinkles she had made him eat.
>Mabel might have been able to subsist on sugar alone, but Dipper never felt like such a complete wreck.
>Nausea became his second worst problem when he heard Mabel coming up the stairs after him.

>“Dipper, come back! Let me fix this!”

>In a panic, he kicked the door closed behind him and dove underneath his bed for the journal.
>The last page he had read was still bookmarked.
>He bounced from paragraph to paragraph for something, *anything* that could help.
>It was so hard concentrating. His head was still swimming from days of what Mabel had done to him.
>He jumped when the doorknob started turning. Why didn’t he lock it?
>Nowhere to run, Dipper climbed onto his bed and pressed his back against the wall, clutching his journal to his chest.
>The door creaked open with Mabel behind it.
>In her hand was a shoe string, and tied to it dangled a metallic marble, dull and speckled.
>Dipper’s blood froze.

>“You’re acting weird, Dippy sissy, and not in the right, Mabel way. Let me help you calm down.” Mabel’s eyes, so glazed over they were practically milky, looked right through him.

>“Mabel, the pendant is messing with your head! This isn’t you! This isn’t me!”

>The journal detailed how the metal – the pendant – held a kind of magnetic charge, but for the mind.
>The journal also warned that it was a double-sided magnet.
>As much as it gave someone the power to compel others, it was just as irresistibly addictive to use, and the effects grew stronger the longer the exposure.
>Dipper’s last memory before he lost himself to its power was reading its section in the journal, but then Mabel had snuck up from behind and snatched the pendant to start a game of ‘keep away.’
>He had chased her around, warning her not to play with it, and at some point they wrestled.
>Mabel ended up pinning him beneath her and swung the pendant just out of his reach, unknowingly casting its spell on both of them.
>The rest was a glittery haze filled with bezazzling, make-overs, and the two of them picking out the cutest boys in her magazines.
>As Mabel drew closer, Dipper could feel the pendant’s pull grow stronger. He couldn’t stop himself from noticing its slightest movements.
>He threw the journal at her general direction in desperation.
>It didn’t get further than over the edge of the bed.
>Mabel stepped on it and climbed up.

>“You’re not you anymore, Dipper. Let me put you back to normal.”

>Dipper shut his eyes tight and tried to shrink further against the wall. “Mabel, please! I-I don’t want this!”

>“Open your eyes for me, Dipper.”

>He could feel the mattress dip as Mabel crawled across the bedspread towards him. He could even feel her swinging the pendant as his eyes fought to open and follow it.
>The cool brush of her glossy lips against his right eyelid caused it to spring open.
>Dipper mustered what little strength he had to try and push her away, but she easily caught his wrists and held him still.
>He couldn’t stop her from crawling into his lap and peppering kisses on his left eye.
>She planted one last kiss that lingered, successfully getting it to open as she pulled back with a wet smack.

>“Go away…” he choked out, tears beginning to run.

>Mabel worked a hand free and raised the pendant back up between their faces. “That’s right, Dipper. We’re going to go away now, back to that special sweater town I made for you. Do you remember how we get there?”

>“P-please—”

>“We’re going to put back on your special sweater. But this one will be cozier than the first one. Sooo cozy, that you won’t wiggle out of it this time. And when I count to three, you’re going to take a nap. You’ll be my little Dippy sissy again when you wake up.”

>The pendant dragged Dipper’s sight along as it swung back and forth along the arc of Mabel’s smile.
>The way it glinted off her braces only helped make him dizzier.
>Clouds formed in his head and overcast his thoughts, making it hard to think; so much easier to listen.
>The pendant blurred and faded away. He could still sense his eyes involuntarily following it, but it wasn’t what he perceived anymore.
>Instead, he saw Mabel holding the biggest, fuzziest sweater he could imagine.
>It looked like her favorite pink shooting star sweater, but ridiculously fluffier, like an overgrown cotton ball with sleeves.
>It exuded warmth and comfort.

>“One… lift up your arms for me, Dippy sissy. Let Mabel help you.”

>Dipper's arms raised limply above his head, against his will and out of his control as if tied to balloons.

>"Very good. Two… now I’m pulling the sweater down over your head. Can you feel how warm and heavy it is? Like the world’s best hug.”

>It was stifling and coiled around him like a straitjacket. It smelled like Mabel.

>Mabel giggled and dabbed away a trail of drool crawling from the corner of his mouth with her sleeve. "Mmm, we’re almost done. I know how tired you are, Dipper. You had so much fun today with me, but it’s time to rest. You’re so lucky to be nice and tucked into your adorable sister’s special sweater. You can go right to sleep when I says so.”

>Dipper’s eyes fluttered and he slumped forward.
>The illusion had solidified in his head without the pendant needing to feed it anymore.
>Mabel caught him against her and cradled his head to her chest. He was vaguely aware of her heartbeat.
>His last, sputtering moment of lucid awareness was Mabel brushing his bangs aside from his birthmark and her lips murmuring against it.

> “And three… Sleep tight, little sister.”