Chunky Cheering (Weight Gain, Long Read)
If you’re still taking fic requests here’s an idea. A witch casts a spell on a nearby school’s head cheerleader to make her really fat. It works and the fat begins to pile on, just not in the places the witch intended.
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“Gimme a Gee!”
The way she shouts, you’d think she was important. Or at the least, she thinks that.
Jennifer Jones, with her bottle blonde hair in a neat little bun. The sweat is starting to bead on her forehead. She thrusts her arms up all the same, her smile unwavered. There’s hoots and hollers from the crowd like aways. If you look close enough, you can see a few senior boys smirking as they nudge their friends. Mouths like wolves, their smiles split by teeth. Their eyes wide as Jennifer kicks her foot into the air.
“Gimme an oh!” she shouts. Her pom-poms wriggle in the air, her “sisters” falling in behind her.
From the front row, a guy in flannel cups his hands and shouts “Oh, I’ll give you that alright!”
He and his friends burst into laughter. But Jennifer doesn’t even flinch. She rises in the air as the other girls lift her, her pom-poms swaying side to side. Her toned legs glisten in the stadium lights as she smiles at the crowd. All the while, her hair doesn’t move. It stays still and perfect and taut. With her unitard painted on, and her pleated so neat it could cut. If it wasn’t for the sweat, you would think she was a statue.
I sit and watch her, my fingers curling into my palm. I don’t stop, not even as pain shoots into it’s creases. Jennifer is lowered to the ground, and the game goes on. My mother claps, her smile wide as she turns to me.
“Honey? Is something wrong? Your brother is about to play,”
I grit my jaw so tight I hear my teeth scrape. “No, mother. That’s wonderful,”
She watches me a moment, right until an airhorn goes off. Then like the rest she’s facing the field, her voice lost in a cacophony of screams. The crowd was a roar, but a single line caught my ear. It wormed it’s way into my skull, and nestled in the darkest part of my brain.
“Kill them! Fucking KILL THEM!”
@@@
My family and I, we’re aren’t that close.
They’re good people. They haven’t abused me, they don’t get into arguments. They don’t do anything weird-and that’s the problem. They’re so terribly average, so normal and whole it makes my stomach churn. Dad worked twelve hour shifts, blue collar. He loves his family and beer and god. He met my mom-a “susie home maker”, as they say-in high school. He was a quarter back, she was a cheer leader. He proposed to her at home coming. She accepted because she was pregnant.
That’s how I got here. Dudley, my brother, he came a year later. I guess they thought they could get it right the second time. Their dream child. Dudley fit the bill alright. Like them, he wasn’t bad or mean. He was an adorable idiot, just like dad. A quarter back, just like him.
And me, well.
I think I should have lead with “I’m a lesbian” instead of “I want to be an art major”. At least then their pretend enthusiasm would have felt nice.
Hi.
I’m Lex. It’s short for Alexa. Go ahead, I’ve heard every damned joke.
Spare me the art major jokes though. I’ve heard all of those, too.
It’s not that my folks were bad. They were fantastic, actually. It’s that we’re cut from such radically different cloths. Mom and Dad wanted a little “them”. Growing up, mom always tried to get me into make up. She shoved push-up bras in my face when I was ten. Dad on the other hand tried to get me into soccer-because it was a “ladies sport”.
We compromised with a sports bra and karate. It wasn’t foot ball, it wasn’t preening. But it set a bar for the rest of my life. A tug or a nudge towards their identity, a yank towards my own. Highschool came and went without cheerleader tryouts. Without football-save for Dudley, who did. Who was the lead quarter back. Who was the only fucking reason I went to the games at all.
And now who, soaked with sweat and turf, was standing at my bedroom door. Smiling wide as he waved.
“Hey sis! Glad you came,” he said. The big dumb idiot, with his big stupid grin.
But when he smiled, I couldn’t help but do the same. Dudley was a moron-but he was a harmless moron, just happy to breathe air. I loved him for it. I smiled, and tucked my bookmark in. He walked in until I clucked my tongue. Then he looked down, and surprised rolled over his face at his filthy cleats.
“Oh, oh gosh. I’m sorry sis,” he said. I just laughed.
“It’s okay Duds. Your head is just on the game,” I said, “and hopefully it will be on a shower soon,”
Dudley’s cheeks tinged, but split for a smile and a belly laugh. “Oh come on, it ain’t that bad!” He said, bass voice booming.
I wriggled my nose, and raised my brow. “You reek of boy. Bathe, you mutt,”
“Soon,” he said with a huff. With his hands on his hips and shoulder pads, he looked the spitting image of our dad. Minus years of beer. He smiled, and jerked his thumb towards the door.
“Me and Jen, we’re going to go get some milkshakes. Wanna come?”
I tried to hold my disgust in. But it slipped to my lips far too quick. I held in the gag, though. As I frowned, my brother did the same.
“Oh come on, she ain’t that bad,” cooed Dudley. “And besides-milkshakes! Who turns down a milkshake?”
“Does she have to be there?” I snapped back.
Dudley crossed his arms. His shoulder pads creaked beneath his uniform as he said “Well yeah, she’s my girlfriend. And I wanna see her!”
I sighed, and laid my head back against the headboard of my bed. “Promise you’re going to shower?”
Dudley’s face lit back up, the scowl he had a moment ago gone. “Obviously. That a yes?”
“I don’t want to talk to her Duds,”
“You ain’t got to. Just come on-it’ll be fun,” he said.
“Fiiiiiine. Go shower. I’ll get ready-and you’re buying,”
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It wasn’t that I hated Jennifer. I didn’t have a reason to, though I guess hate never comes with a real reason. Sitting here next to my brother, she held his hand. He held hers. They giggled at each other’s little jokes, pecked each other on the cheeks. Duds was massive in the booth, but he made room for Jen in the crook of his arm. Classic rock blared overhead. Change their clothes, and they could have been our parents.
I bet he just loved that.
So I sucked the life out of my shake until there wasn’t anything left. Every time Dudley tried to crack a joke, I slurped until I annoyed myself. Duds didn’t skip a single beat though-and neither did her. Jennifer just smiled and listened. She laughed at all the right times. It wasn’t a small sound-it was this obnoxious, loud giggle that bellowed in the booth. Then Duds would laugh in a low bass. I slurped.
But eventually they finished. It was time to go, and we were in the car again. It wasn’t anything fancy-an old four-door from the nineties. But to my brother, it might as well have been a Caddy. Jen slipped into the front seat. I got in the back, and pulled out my phone. The screen wasn’t a shield, but it could do in a pinch.
Most of the time.
The moment Jennifer turned around in her seat, my heart sank. She smiled, just like she did with the crowds at the games. Her nails were the color of pepto bismol and vomitted gellato. But it was the warmth in her voice that made me grimmace.
“You’ve been awfully quiet!” she said. The tone, the candence of her words made me want to take those pretty nails-and drive them into my ear.
“Uh-huh,” I said. I thumbed at my phone, and hoped it would be enough. I winced as I heard the pleather seat before me creak.
“Anything good?” She said.
I glanced up from my phone, and raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
Jennifer-still with a smile-pointed towards my phone. “I said, ‘anything good’? You’re playing Pokemon go or something, right?”
Unlike with my brother, I didn’t have to hold in my disgust. “No. No I am not,” I said, tone as sour as Warheads. But that didn’t deter the ditz, not even by a second. Jennifer kept on smiling, and even laughed.
“Yeah, I had to give that up after I started too. It was just too much work with practice and all,”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I replied. I glanced back down at my phone. I tried to text my uncle, but the seat creaked once more. Jennifer had her phone out, it’s pink-glitter case catching the light.
Throwing it directly into my eyes.
“Hey, what’s your number?” she said.
I paused my tapping, and looked up at her. “Uh, why do you need to-“
But Dudley-my dumb chuckle fuck of a brother-rattled it off. Mister well meaning, the little golden boy. Always ready to fucking help. I watched as Jennifer quickly tapped it into her phone, then switched over to her camera. She lifted the screen, and captured us both in a shot. She, naturally, was picture perfect. I looked like I’d been a meth binge at Hot Topic. I watched as she saved it to her contact for me, and smiled.
“There we go!” she said, her voice almost squeaking. “Hey, me and you should hang out some time-that would be okay with you, right baby?”
My brother glanced at me from the rear view mirror, his smile barely hiding a smirk. “You know, I think that would be great for both of you. She needs some more friends,”
“Dudley!” I spat, but he and Jennifer just burst into laughter. Jennifer finally turned away, already prattling with my brother as we barrelled down the road.
On the radio, Led Zepplin ripped into a chorus about lost dreams.
I decided to finish that text to my uncle.
@@@
I sometimes wondered if there had been a mix up.
He didn’t have a steady job, but had published tons of books. He wasn’t tall and muscular like my dad. He didn’t live in a nice house, and wasn’t particularly friendly. His face was lined by too many scowls. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t smile. For everything my family was, my uncle wasn’t. From the tips of his toes to his jet black hair.
Hair that was just like mine.
I’d asked dad about that before, but he just muttered something about recessive genes. He changed the subject, and mom found herself suddenly in the mood to bake. But it was Dudley that always got concerned, even after that first question. My brother wasn’t scared of much-he was too damned atheletic and friendly to be.
But he was terrified of Uncle Jack.
He never admitted it, but he made the same face he always did when we got home. I told him where I was going, and he gave this wince. He turned to me, and ducked his head in the door frame. “Are you sure you wanna see him? Like, positive Alexa?”
I scrunched my nose when he said that. Duds only used my full name when he was worried. As we’d gotten older, he used it all the time. I guess with college looming in a few weeks, it made sense. Most of the time I would be flattered. I’d smile, pat his shoulder and tell him I was okay. But my stomach was still rolling with vanilla shake. It had since the moment I got in his car to leave.
“Yeah, positive. I won’t be gone long. I just need to ask him a few things, okay?”
Dudley frowned, but gave a nod. “Well, okay. Want me to drive you?”
I snickered, and shook my head as I grabbed my purse. “No, Duds. It’s just a block over,”
“Yeah. But-” Dudley said as he shifted from one foot, “-it’s late, and. Well. It’s him,”
I rolled my eyes, and turned to face my brother. “Duds? He’s just a grumpy old man. That’s all. And he wants me to design a cover or something for his book, okay? Money is good,”
Dudley gave a sigh, his shirt straining to contain his chest. Then he nodded, and jabbed a finger towards me.
“You better text me when you get there, okay? I mean it. Mom and dad will get worried sick,” he said.
I walked towards him, and stopped almost toe-to-toe with him. I looked up, my grip tight on my purse. “Yes Duds. Now can I go?”
Duds gave a grunt, and stepped down the hall. The door to his room closed, and I made my way out. The night was cool, but not to the point of chill. I held on to my purse tight as I eyed the street. Suburbia wasn’t the worst, but that didn’t make the empty neighborhood any less creepy. I turned right, and passed our house as I walked down the block. It was odd, walking to my uncles. Because on our block, everyone had these neat, nice little houses. But cross a single street, and the pavement aged. It cracked and rotted beneath your feet, rank with weeds. Ivy rose from the concrete and embraced the empty lots where houses once were.
All except for my uncle’s house.
I had no idea where uncle Jack got his money. He was a writer-but I’d never read any of his books. The one time I’d asked, my dad had brushed me aside. He tipped his beer up, eyes towards the TV as he said “You don’t want to read that crap,”
“Dad! He’s family!” I’d said.
But the conversation ended right there. Dad muttered the word “creep”, and turned the volume up. Regardless of what my uncle wrote-he’d made enough to purchase the only house on the block. It had been pretty once, maybe. A colonial two story, with a cobblestone wall running around it. He could have had a nice garden, if he tried. But the yard beyond the wall was like the rest of the block. Choked by growth turned brown from it’s own excess. Gravel crunched beneath my boots as I rose to the porch, each step creaking as I did. I wrapped my hand on the door, and waited.
Nothing stirred inside.
I raised my hand again, and knocked harder. I felt the hairs on my neck rise, and I almost turned away. Then a voice bellowed from inside, muffled by the door. Even as thick as it was, the door couldn’t muffle the wet cough that followed.The door knob rattled, and my uncle’s face peered out from the dark. A single green eye met mine from the shadows. His head tilted, and he opened the door wider. Clad in a black bathrobe and slippers, I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Lillian, isn’t it a school night?”
“That’s not my name. And you know that,” I said.
Jack rolled his eyes, snarling as he spoke. “And it’s what I choose to call you. Your true name. All the same-it’s late?” he said, his tone making the statement a question.
“Best time to pick your brain, isn’t it?” I said, giving him a grin.
My uncle rolled his eyes, and stepped away from the door. He shuffled back, and I followed.
The door closed behind me on it’s own.
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“So let me get this right, and make sure I’m laying it all out correctly,” he said.
“uh-huh,” I replied.
Jack leaned forward in his chair, the front of his robe opening just slightly. I could see the black hair there was beginning to turn silver. He pointed towards me, and took a deep breath.
“You’re being a damned teenage girl. That’s what’s going on,”
And like that, all the air left my body. I flopped back against the couch. Despite the holes and wear in it, it was incredibly comfortable. I stared up at the cieling, and counted the cob webs. My uncle rose from his seat, and paced towards the fireplace. He reached down, his spine popping like the lit logs before him. He grabbed some firewood from the pile, and tossed it in. The flames hissed, and feasted upon it with greed.
“That’s not it,” I said, so low it was almost to myself.
“Oh, that’s entirely it,” snorted my uncle. He turned to me, his shaggy black hair casting dancing shadows. “That’s all that’s going on here. Do you ever think maybe you’re upset at her because she’s happy? Your family is happy? And maybe-just mayyybe now,” he said as he wagged a finger, “you’re projecting your own hormonal insecurities on the rest of them?”
I lifted my head and gave my best glare. My uncle just laughed, and shook his head. He walked back towards his high-backed chair, and sat in it with a groan. “Besides,” he said, “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it. You’re a grown woman, aren’t you?”
“You’re a real effortless asshole,” I snapped. But Jack just snorted, and shook his head. His face turned towards the flames, his eyelids low as he watched them.
“It’s true though Lillian. This is one of those things you need to solve on your own. You know that. You knew that walking up here. You were just looking for permission to be allowed to know it,”
“Yeah, but-” I started, but my uncle just laughed and looked towards me. With his head rested against the chair, he looked so much older than he was.
“But what? You just expect me to snap my fingers, and everything will magically work itself out?”
I bit my cheek, and tried to hold the words in. They came all the same though.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time,” I sputtered.
His smile dropped right away. He sat up in the chair, and jabbed a finger towards me.
“You shut your mouth, and know your place. You’re of age. You want to pull some shenanigans, you do it on your own. I’ll give you advice-but you do the leg work. Do I make myself clear?”
We sat there, staring at each other for what felt like years. Then I gave a nod, and tilted my head up.
“Your library. Those books. It’s all in there, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” said my uncle. He relaxed back into his chair, but his eyes didn’t move from me. He watched me like an old wolf-voracious for any kind of test. Something to make this little visit worthwhile. My heart began to pulse in my ears as I shifted on the couch, and leaned in.
“Dad says you’re a freak,” I said.
He nodded, and gave a roll of his shoulders. “Your father had a chance to learn. Did his whole life, but he rejected us. Me, our parents. He settled for comfort. You, though-you’ve never really been comfortable, have you?”
“No sir,” I said.
Jack nodded, and rose from his chair. He sighed as he gripped the edge of his robe, and tightened it about him. “Well, come on then. You’re about eighteen years late, but it’s time to learn the family trade,”
He took a deep breath, and turned towards the fire. He watched it all of a minute before he lifted his hands, and gave a single snap of his fingers.
The fire went out right away, and plunged the room into darkness.
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It wasn’t easy.
It wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t easy. I’d spent almost every night at my uncles house, right up until my dad called him. Uncle Jack said just what we planned, though-that he wanted me for cover work. My dad was pretty twitchy as he held the phone, right up until the end. Then his eyes got wide, and his jaw dropped. “Oh. Uh, well if you’re paying her THAT much-“
He was, by the way. Using me for help with a cover. The trick was, I wasn’t allowed to touch the pen. My art supplies, any of it. I couldn’t even use a computer. I had to sit there at this massive desk he had, hand in my lap. He told me when I could make a pencil move, he’d teach me the rest. I sat there for hours at a time, frustration building.
Then my uncle would do something. Light a candle with a snap of his fingers. Make coffee appear out of thin air, just the same way. I’d ask him how it happened, and he would just smile and ask about the pencil. I finally had a break on wednesday, when I sent it hurtling across the room. Right at his head. It landed in the wall, and I watched him swivel to stare at me. Then he smiled, and let me into his library. From the floor to the ceiling, every single wall was covered in books. All save for the far wall, which had a single chair and a end table. There was a painting above it, one of my uncle. He was much younger, and flanked by these two weird things.
They were blue, and looked like people. A woman, a man. But they had horns and eyes like goats. The woman had her arm around my uncle, easily a foot taller than him. The man was small and lithe, in a suit that didn’t fit him well at all. When Jack caught me staring at the picture, he tilted his head towards it.
“Old friends,” he said, “Read what I tell you to, and practice as I tell you? You’ll get to meet them,”
“Were they into cosplay?” I asked.
My uncle lowered his gaze from the portrait, then stared at me. A moment later he busted into a big belly laugh, and shook his head. He walked towards the bookshelves, still snickering as his finger began to trail the spines.
“So, this girl you dislike-just how strong is that dislike? Hrm?” he said.
It was the first time anyone had asked me that out loud. I stood there, watching him as he turned to face me. He peered from over the edge of his glasses, a beat passing before he spoke again.
“Lillian? Did you hear me?”
“I did. I just-well I don’t hate her. Not really,” I said. I felt my face get warm, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I took a deep breath, and stared him right in the eyes. “But it’s just like-it’s all too perfect. Mom, dad. Duds and Jen, they’re all just-they fit together so well. And I don’t. I don’t feel like I ever will, and I just-”
I paused, and watched as my uncle blinked.
“-I just want her to be like me. So maybe I don’t feel so alone,”
I watched as my uncle turned, and placed his hands on his hips. Like Duds, like dad. For the first time in my entire life, I saw a tinge of familial resemblance.
“Let me make something perfectly clear before I get a book,” he said, “You do fit. Maybe not with them, but in this world. You belong just as much as she does, as anyone. Don’t you ever doubt that. But as for wanting to do something to her-well,”
He turned back to the shelf, his finger dancing over the spines. It stopped along a thin volume on a high shelf. He pulled it out, and thumbed it open. As his eyes scanned the page, he turned back to me. He closed the book, and extended it outwards.
“Haguculture Harmonium,” he said. “Curses, but in the old-lady ‘you’re gonna regret that’ kind of way. Nothing bad. Promise,”
He shook the book towards me. I reached up to take it, only for it to be jerked away at the last moment.
“Lillian? You should know before you read this. Magick isn’t something you can just do. Everything requires a gift, an effort-some kind of sacrifice. It might be big, it might be small. But it still has to happen. Do you understand?”
I stared at the book a moment, then shook my head. He extended it out, and I pulled it from his hands. Looking down at it, I couldn’t tell the age. It was hardcover, dark blue and bound in canvas. The title had rubbed away, the pages had yellowed. But they were clear enough to read still despite the font being choppy. Like someone had put it through a type writer. I stood there, flipping through the pages as my uncle yawned. I glanced up, and caught him scratching his belly.
“Well, you’re ready. You’ve got what you need. So, shoo. Go home. Skidaddle,” he said, waving his hands towards me. “I’ve friends to meet with, and you’re not ready for that,”
I took a step back, and closed the book. I clutched it to my chest, my mouth open as I tried to find the words. My uncle stopped, and tilted his head as he stared at me.
“Yes, dear?”
“What if I-what if I mess up?” I said, “What if I hurt her really bad?”
Uncle Jack stood there, his face stoic as he spoke. “Well, then you’ll have to figure out how to undo it. Won’t you? But follow the instructions, every little step-and you won’t. Now go,”
I nodded, and turned on my heel. I stopped near the door, and turned back to him. My uncle had made it to the other side of the room, right in front of the picture. He looked back by chance, then snapped around to face me.
“Didn’t I tell you to get? You’ve witchery to get to, don’t you?” he said.
I nodded, and held the book up as I waved it at him. “I know, just. Thanks Unc,”
Jack stood there a moment, then nodded as he snorted. “I’m not your uncle Lillian,”
“I know,” I said, returning his smile.
He nodded, then let out a sigh as he turned back to the picture. His hands sunk into his pants, and he said “Right then. Go on. And don’t fuck this up,”
“Love you too Dad,” I said, my voice low as I exited the library.
I beat the stairs two at a time, and was out the door before I heard him give a sharp reply.
@@@
He hadn’t been wrong.
It absolutely required effort, sacrifice. I poured over the book my uncle gave me. He had been right about it, too. It was full of curses, but nothing like “break into boils” or “go blind and claw your eyes”. The Haguculture Harmonium had stuff like “has a limp for a week”. “Bad dandruff”. “Gain a few pounds”.
The last one, that’s the one that caught me. It wasn’t an easy spell to pull off, either. Like the rest in the book, it’s methods seemed so damned obtuse. I just wrote it off as being new to it all. I mean, I could levitate pencils with my head. This couldn’t have been much of a stretch. All the ingredients conveniently could be had from the grocery store.
I gathered it all together one friday, and took the day off from school. I cackled as I pictured Jennifer’s perfect little face getting round, plump as could be. Duds would drop her for sure. She’d have to quit cheerleading. It would all fall into place-I just had to keep up an act.
That, and well-bake. Bake a lot, as it turned out. But that afternoon, when Duds brought Jennifer home with him?
I didn’t have to offer twice. She let out a squeal when she saw the cake, her eyes wide. I smiled, and splayed my hand towards it.
I told her the exact phrase the book told me to use. It was so simple, so damned plane.
It couldn’t have gone off any easier if I snapped my fingers. Jennifer got one slice, then another. Duds asked if he could have some too. I figured what the hell, it wouldn’t hurt him. So I said the words again.
“Dig in,”
Dudley gorged himself on it. I sat at the table, smiling and laughing right along with them. By the time they were finished, they had ate every bite. Duds patted his stomach, and looked at me with a smile. He thanked me, and said it was the best damn cake he’d ever eaten. Jennifer agreed with him, and said she wanted the recipe.
I smiled, and told her it was a family secret. But if she liked that, I had plenty more to try.
What started as a once a week treat became every other day. Then every day, to the point Jennifer was spending the night at our house. My parents didn’t say a thing, seemed proud of it actually. Dad made a joke to Duds about getting a ring. My brother started stuttering, his cheeks glowing as Jennifer’s eyes twinkled.
We all ate some cake that day-even me. It was a celebration, right? I had to blend in.
I didn’t expect the spell to take so long. But as Jennifer started staying over every day, it got easier to keep track of the change. The pounds were piling on-but against all fucking odds, it made her look even better. Her stomach, once so flat you could have called it a skillet, grew soft. Round at her hips, and full. Her cheerleading uniform balloned as her hips billowed out of the top. By the time she was spilling out of her sports bra, I’d already given her a few of mine. I mean, I wanted her fat. But I could go without the nudity.
Dudley certainly didn’t protest. No matter what time of day it was. I’d never been so happy for sound canceling head phones in my life.
The year went on-and Jennifer kept eating. She kept filling out, and it just made her even more beautiful.
Dudley finally did something smart. He’d listened to dad, and on one knee asked her to marry him.
She burst into tears, wrapping her arms around him as she said yes.
I had a fabulous cake for that day too.
When they moved out, I went back over to my uncles house. He was standing out side, his butt against the cobblestone wall. Still wrapped in that tatty bathrobe. His eyebrow raised as he saw me, and he rubbed the cigarette out.
“Been a while. Been practicing?” he said, coughing into his hand.
“Sure have. It worked, but-“
“But what?” he said, grinning like an old mutt at meal time.
I pulled the book out of my purse, and tapped the cover.
“This book, it took so fucking long. And it didn’t even do what I wanted it to-fucking, her and Duds got married. And he LOVES her to death. Like, what the hell man?” I said, tapping the cover.
My uncle grinned, and pulled his bathrobe tighter about himself. He eyed me a moment, and then said “Lillian? Alexa? Dear? Did you ever read that print close enough? I know it’s old and smudged, but really. You’re a bright girl. How’d you miss it?”
I blinked, then looked at the worn cover. I opened it up, and began tearing through page after page.
I felt my face grow warm, my mouth wavering as I looked at the actual titles to the curses.
“How to get rid of a limp in a week,”
“How to get rid of bad dandruff,”
“How to Gain a Few Pounds with The Best Cake Ever,”
I snapped it shut, and glared at him. “J-Jack, just what the fucking hell is-“
He reached out, and took the book from my hands. He opened it to the front cover, and turned it around. There, in tiny smudged writing on the first page, read the following:
“The Hag’s Guide To Loving Witchcraft: Haguculture Harmonium”
He closed the book, and pushed it back towards me. I took it, my hands trembling as I looked up at him.
“You-you fucking tricked me!”
“Did what you want to happen, happen?”
“I-“
“Did her life drastically alter because of what you did? Is she out of yours?”
“Well yeah, but I-” I sputtered.
But my uncle just laughed, turned on his heel and walked towards his front door.