Alicia Telfair - MGCYOA Writefaggotry

Warning - this is amateur material.  I get way too dramatic.  Please give me feedback by telling me I'm stupid.

---
Let me just preface this by saying:

There was a point in time when I had a penis.  I can't remember it too well, but I know it wasn't shrimpy.  I'd actually call it dependable.  Kept a good schedule.  It never nagged me.  It didn't bend the wrong way, didn't do weird shit on me.  It was the salaryman of penises.  The B-student.  Give it a job, it'd do it well.

That time has passed.  And no matter how many times I try to dress myself up like a grown man, I can't make a convincing-looking penis.

I am a girl.  A magical girl.  An 8-year old girl.  A girl with an identical twin and a pair of puppets as guardians.  I don't think I'll ever stop being an 8-year old girl, because frankly that's not how the universe works.  Aging is a myth, and sexual development is a sick joke.  You don't actually *go* to Middle School.  Social lives don't actually exist.  Monsters are the new 9 to 5.  Cleaning your body actually accomplishes jack shit when you don't ever get dirty.  Oh, and the accent you grew up with isn't the one you keep.

If it sounds like I'm salty about this massive change in my life, I am.  Just a little bit.

I used to be a grad student.  A man.  That part of me is rapidly fading into my memory.  I'll never really 'become' the 8-year old girl I turned into, but I'll forget what being a man was like, eventually.

What you're about to read is the story of how I lost my penis, my height, and my dignity to a magical pink thing.  The details may be lurid (thanks word calendar), but trust me - the more I remember, the better.

--

A few months ago, I ran into a girl on the highway on my way home from uni.  Broke the windshield, she did.  One minute I'm jamming, the next I'm skidding down the turnpike with a head on my dashboard and a body flopping around on the hood.  For a moment there, that could've been a deer.

By the time I came to a stop along the barrier, she was dead.

It took a moment for it all to sink in.  A long, ugly moment staring into the glazed eyes of a dead girl in pretty, blood-stained pink.  I killed someone.

Well, blunt force killed her.  And glass.  Totally wasn't my fault.  I kept telling myself that, but it wasn't making her go away.

"Alright.  Calm down-"

I wasn't calm.

"This... isn't happening.  I'm at home.  I got the manager's special.  And I'm going to wake up tomorrow with a headache and the runs.  This isn't happening."

She wouldn't stop staring at me.

"J-just... fuck, where's my insurance card-"

Right there, in the cigarette tray with my wallet on it.  Little bit of blood on it, should still be fine.

I fumbled for my cellphone.  For a moment, I actually thought about dumping the body and claiming I hit a deer.  In hindsight, that makes me seem like a terrible person.

I won't argue that.  I'm a rambunctious child.

"H-hello.  Hi.  I'm uh... I'm on I-285 north.  There's uh... there's this... I hit something, and it's halfway through my windshield."

You liar.  Her head's the only thing in there.

"... yeah, two hours is fine.  Let me just get the number down..."

When the call was over, I slid over the passenger side and climbed out.  Could've sworn I heard a cricking sound nudging past her.  Probably her neck, I reasoned, before I felt horribly disgusted with myself.

Any other kind of night, and I would've probably gone to jail.  Poor white kids in grad school don't have the money for chop ramen, let alone the bank to pay for a good defense attorney.  I don't know why that was the first thing on my mind, when I was legally responsible for murdering a young girl.  Maybe I was in shock.  Maybe I just had enough.  Maybe this was all premeditated, and I was just blocking it out.  Did I want to go to jail?  Did I want to grade the papers in the backseat?

My thoughts swam for minutes on end.  Pool's open, guys.  Keep me up all night.  I felt guilt.  Anguish.  Fear for her.  Fear for me.  I didn't want to be responsible, but I didn't have a choice.

Thunk.

My thoughts were interrupted by a pink thing sitting on my car's roof.  Wand.  Cape.  Cutesy smile.  A little pink bear in a yellow diaper.  In the time I spent debating the ethical quandaries of an accident, he'd already surveyed the situation.

"Puuchuuu~" he cooed.

"... puu... chuuuu..." I repeated.

What a strange looking tow-guy.

"Puuchuu, this won't do~"

Oh god, that's not a tow-guy.

I cleared my throat and creased my collar.  Tried to fold away the blood stains and look presentable.  He just hopped down onto the hood and looked over the corpse with a lurid sort of curiosity.  Its sing-song voice make me shiver.

"U-uh."

"Hm~"

"Hi."

It turned to me.  "Did you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Hit this girl with your car~"

"Technically."

"Do you realize what you've done~?"

I didn't, but I answered anyway.  "I... um... I-I killed her, yeah.  I didn't mean to.  She just jumped in front, I couldn't stop in time-"

"Puuchuu~"

I whimpered.  "Puuchuu."

The thing stared at me with its twinkling eyes and curled lashes.

"You killed her, and now you will take her place~"

I gulped.  "What?"

It took its wand out and gestured, floating off the hood.  A sinister aura burned around the thing's body.  It was approaching me.  I couldn't move.

"You heard me!  I'm tired of having to make these things over and over again!  Instead, I'll just make you fit the part!"

Sparks came out of his wand.  And no, that's not a euphemism.  I shielded my face...

---

I didn't feel it at first.  I should've.  Maybe would've remembered it better.  By the time I opened my eyes, it was too late.

Something saccharine boiled in the back of my throat.  I tried to swallow.  It came out like the morning after a bachelor party.

"Scoundrels!  Fiends!  I'll use your tricks to send you crawling back to the shadows!"

My hands came up.  That wasn't my voice.  I didn't say that.  The pitch was too high.  It didn't sound 'male.'

My eyes burned.  Glasses!  Another sensation.  I barked it out.

"We're the Auvergne sisters!  And we'll take you by surprise!"

At that point, I wasn't sure what I was saying.  I gagged, trying to find my voice again.  It wasn't there.  My Adam's apple was shrinking.  Every word that came out me, lighter, sweeter, more childish.  Glimpses.  I could see that wand pointing at me, hunched over and squeaking my guts out.  Vacant, cutesy smile.  I think I cursed at him.

"M-meanie-head!  Stop iiiiit!"

He didn't answer.  I wouldn't have either.

My body erupted into a cold sweat.  My insides were burning.  My skin was freezing.  It was like I was turning on a spit roast.  Alternating between extremes until my lapsed into a form of shock.  I tried throwing my coat off, ripping my shirt off, doing something to get the pressure off me.

My hands fumbled.  The cuffs were sliding over them.  My hands were shrinking.

I stumbled, trying to grab the fucker and make it stop.  I ended up falling on my face.  My shoes went the opposite direction.  My feet were shrinking too.

By that point, I was on asphalt.  Squeaking like a little girl, struggling to get back up, sinking deeper into my clothes every passing second.  The trees, the highway signs, the street lamps. They all seemed to get away from me.  The cars that passed me by.  They could've stopped.  They could've gotten out, and I could've squeaked 'Help me! this thing is stealing my mannishness-' But they didn't.  I was sprawled on my hands and knees, shoulders slipping out of the collar of my dress-shirt, turning into something.  They were on cruise control.

Memories slipped into my head.  Images of something I didn't remember.  Training.  Fighting.  Tophat.  Escape artist.  Traveling duo act.  Magicians.  Sister?  Puppets.  I couldn't think straight.  So many things were rearranging themselves in my brain.  I could feel the moving men doing their thing.  And there was no stopping them.

My ears popped.  My eyes refocused.  I moaned something low into my hands, swallowed by folded jacket.  The heat in my chest was burning off.  I had come to, in a pile of my own clothes.

The thing cooed at me from the open passenger door.  "Are you done~?"

There were grumbles.  Cute, lisping grumbles.  My motor skills were off.  So much of me felt... strange.  My skin didn't 'scritch' like it did when body hair ran against fabric.  My face felt alien - too small, too bloated.  I couldn't frown like I used to.  Vertigo was setting in.  I could barely get up.  One step, and I was slipping on a part of my pants.  Everything was so much farther away.  I felt like I was a kid again.

I growled up at the thing as I slowly got my bearings.  "W-what did you do to me?"

"You don't listen, do you~?"

I'm terrible at listening.

It took a moment for me to get up.  Struggling to keep my pants from completely falling off.  I found my window mirror and looked in.

...

There was a little girl staring at me from inside this mirror.  Big cheeks, a missing front tooth, hair the color of hay, running down her shoulders.  She looked nearly perfect - no blackheads, no moles, a long, expressive mouth held agape (god, now that I remember that I feel like a shitbag; also, thank you again, word calendar).  The long collar of a dress-shirt peeked into the frame, hanging onto her narrow shoulders for dear life.  Her little hand was holding it tight.  A bow and a form-fitting uniform was barely visible over her collar.  She was probably eight at the most, maybe nine.

I looked down at myself.

He was right.  He did make a replacement.

He also stole my dick, but that wasn't the first thing on my mind.  "I-I... I'm gonna..."

"I'm gonna give you a massive noogie for what you did, you little meanie-head!"

I blinked.  I didn't say that.  Something about asses and foot-shoving.  But it didn't come out that way.

Unfortunately for me, he wasn't here to rebuke me.  He was long gone, and so was the body.  Probably took the moment I was gawking to laugh at me for being a sucker.  Sitting in the dented spot instead was a gold coin and three silvers.

I shuffled back and forth in my drooping pants and socks, trying to make sense of this.  A girl ran in front of my car.  A little pink creature took my body away.  And now, I'm stuck on the highway with a wreck of a car, a babyface, legs that can't reach the pedals and an identity that wasn't even mine.

Anger welled in me.  Then fear.  Then, just, the overwhelming urge to cry.  I really was as young as I looked.

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(end of chapter)