Potion Number 12 (TG/AR)

    “Hey Daddy, could you let Matias in at 5? We re planning to meet up at home before heading out tonight. K thanks”

    Mr. Anderson sighed as he read his daughter’s text. He was done with his daughter, Leiah, dating Matias. There were so many red flags with her relationship: the fact that a senior in high school was dating a 23 year old man, the fact that Matias hadn’t been able to hold down a job for more than a year, the fact that Matias would disappear downtown for a weekend once per month. He had pleaded with his daughter, pointing out all these danger signs, to break off the relationship. Leiah, however, stated that, if she was old enough to vote, she was old enough to date anyone she wished. Where had he gone wrong?

    Mr. Anderson was determined to fix this. He had visited the nearby mall earlier this week and happened to run into an old man, claiming to have the solution to his problem. He glanced at the small glass vial that he had bought from him. He hoped that the liquid inside would perform the miracle that the old man had promised.

    A banging on the door signaled someone’s arrival. Mr. Anderson walked over the door to find Matias standing in the doorway. The hispanic man wore a wifebeater, showing off his muscular arms that were filled with tattoos. His baggy dark jeans were the same color as his short, scraggly beard. He nodded in acknowledgement as Mr. Anderson led him inside.

    “Would you like something to drink Matias?” Mr. Anderson asked as Matias sat down in a lounge chair in the den.

    “I would enjoy one, gracias pops!” Matias exclaimed. “I’ll take an agua for now. Only going to be driving down, if you catch my drift.”

    Mr. Anderson forced a chuckle and disappeared into the kitchen. He poured a glass of water from the sink. Before returning, he made sure to mix the “miracle” liquid into the drink. Luckily, the liquid was clear, preventing it from being detected by sight.

    He walked back into the den and handed Matias the glass. Matias raised it for a mini toast, before chugging down the whole glass.

    “Hey, senior Anderson,” Matias stared at the empty glass in confusion, “that agua tasted strangely dulce. Did you put something else in-”

    Matias’ voiced trailed off as a feeling of sluggishness surged through his body. His movement trailed off in speed until his body froze in its position. He could neither move nor speak.

    Mr. Anderson was caught off guard by how fast the potion had taken control. In fact, a majority of him was surprised that it had worked at all! He tried remembered back to what the old man had said about what to do next.

    “The potion will leave the recipient controllable,” Mr. Anderson recalled him saying. “Any command you say to him he will do. So, if you want him to break up with your daughter, all you have to do is tell him.”

    Mr. Anderson thought about this option for a moment. It would be the simplest method for handling this situation. Matias would be out of Leiah’s life, for her own betterment. There might be some heartbreak though, which Mr. Anderson really didn’t want his daughter to experience. He continued to think back on his talk with the old man.

    “One of the great side effects to this potion though isn’t about making him perform simple actions,” the old man had also explained. “Anything you say to him about himself will come true. Your imagination is the limit with this one!”

    Mr. Anderson had thought about this route and a plan of action had developed. To test if anything the old man had said contained any merit, Mr. Anderson commanded, “Stand up.”

    Matias stood up.

    “Sit down.”

    Matias sat down.

    “Stand up again and jump.”

    Matias stood up and jumped in place.

    Now to test the other claim. “What color are your eyes?” Mr. Anderson asked Matias.

    “My eyes are brown,” Matias replied in an emotionless tone.

    “No, they are not,” Mr. Anderson countered. “They are green.”

    A slight look of surprise made its way onto Matias’ face. He reached up and rubbed his eyes. After he opened them again, they were the color green.

    “What color are you eyes?” Mr. Anderson asked again.

    “My eyes are green,” Matias answered.

    Mr. Anderson was delighted. The old man had been speaking the truth!  It was time to execute his plan. Hopefully this way no one would get truly hurt.

    “Matias,” Mr. Anderson began, thinking through the questions he wanted to ask him, “where did you grow up?”

    “I grew up in the heart of the city,” Matias shared in his monotone voice. “Poverty, drugs, and crime were around me at all times. I wear these tattoos as reminders of all the things I went through. I did what I had to do to help me and mi familia survive.”

    “That’s a nice story and all,” Mr. Anderson replied, “but you grew up in the suburbs, sheltered and safe.“

    Bewilderment struck Matias as he realized that that was true. The tattoos on his arms began to fade and erase themselves from existence. The scars and scraps around his body that occurred from his upbringing healed themselves.

    “Where did you grow up?” he asked again.

    “I grew up in a single family home in the suburbs, close enough to experience the benefits of city life but far enough away to not have to deal with the rough nights. It was very similar to a place like this.”

    “Very good,” Mr. Anderson continued on to his next question. “Who are your parents?”

    “Mi padre is Javier Hernandez. He’s a construction worker. Mi madre is Maria Hernandez. She’s a hairstylist for a local barbershop.”

    “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re incorrect again,” Mr. Anderson stated. “Your parents are Jack and Kim Collins. They are also good friends of me and my wife.”

    In response to these words, a ripple of changes surged through Matias’ body. His short, stubby black hair grew out until it started to cover parts of his ears. It also lightened, turning into a light brown. Cream colored skin began to cover up his previously olive skin tone. The bones of his face rearranged themselves to correctly match up with his new Anglo-Saxon origins. He thinned slightly, and gained about an inch in height.

    As the changes neared their end, Mr. Anderson spoke again. “Who are your parents?”

    “My father is Jack Collins. He works at a local law firm, along with my mother Kim Collins. You already knew that since they live next door.” the no-longer hispanic Matias answered.

    Mr. Anderson nodded. “Enough about talking about your background, let’s talk about you currently. I don’t mean to sound rude, but what sex are you?”

    Matias gave the somnolent reply of “I am male”.

    “Are you sure? Because Jack and Kim Collins have an only daughter.”

    Once again, a surge of changes blasted Matias’s body. Sleek and silky light brown hair tumbled down unto her upper back. Her face rounded out its previous angular edges, shaving off her beard. Her lips puffed out as her teeth straightened and brightened. Her nose narrowed and her bushy eyebrows scalped themselves into a more slender form. Eyeliner and lipstick applied themselves unto the new feminine landmarks.

    Lower, her body shrank almost a full foot, for the 6’ 2” frame she had before didn’t seem correct. Her powerful arms and mighty core dwindled in power, for strength was something she was never interested in achieving. These were replaced by luscious curves, due to her hips cracking outwards and waist pinching inwards. Upwards, her breasts swelled into a large C cup and strained the neckline of the wifebeater.

    It was not strength that she was interested in, but grace. The strained wifebeater and the ill fitting jeans started to merge together at the waist. The jeans sent their dark color upwards and the wifebeater sent its open end downwards. This combination transformed her clothes into a black silk dress, which kept on growing until it hit the floor. Underneath, her legs lengthened and shaved off any pesky leg hair. Her thighs thickened, forcing her groin to reshape and properly match the rest of her body.

    Grace could be more powerful than strength, when used properly. Her butt ballooned and pushed against the draping dress. Her work boots stripped all its materials away until it became a pair of black high heels. Her hands smoothed out, while her fingers grew narrow and dainty. Her fingernails became manicured and painted to match her flowing dress. A gold necklace appeared and dipped low, almost touching the prominent breasts beneath it.

    Mr. Anderson tried to keep himself from staring. “What sex are you?”

    “I am female,” she answered, this time in a voice much softer and higher, although it kept its monotone nature.

    “If you don’t mind me asking, where do you live?” Mr. Anderson questioned.

    “I live in a small apartment downtown,” she replied. “I love its location near all the restaurants and bars. I frequently spend my nights roaming from club to club, hanging out with friends and strangers alike.”

    “That sounds like a nice dream and all, but a high school senior like you can’t afford to live downtown. You still live with your parents.”

    Matias looked shocked for a moment, before falling into a state of realization and slight disappointment. Her body started to roll back the clock a bit, bringing back into a state before it had fully finished puberty. Her feminine traits diminished a bit: her breasts shrank a cup size, the curve formed by her waist and hips flattened, her legs lost about two inches of height. What once was her favorite dress now hung on her awkwardly.

    Speaking of the dress, she wished she could afford something that nice. She was saving up for college though. She didn’t have the money to spend on clothes. And so, the graceful silk dress faded away, leaving behind a more typical outfit of a black skirt and white blouse behind. The black leather heels disappeared as well, leaving her in standard flats. Yes, they were simple, but Matias really didn’t care. Her focus was on education at this point.

    “Where do you live?” Mr. Anderson repeated.

    “I live right next door, with my parents Jack and Kim Collins,” she answered correctly, “like a majority of other 18 year olds in high school.”

    “Yes, yes. Hold on...” Mr. Anderson paused for a moment, selling the role, “I don’t think I ever caught your name, young lady. What is it?”

    “My name is Matias Alfonso Hernandez.”

    “Umm, I don’t think that is right,” Mr. Anderson stated puzzled. “I recall my neighbors naming their daughter Daphne Marie Collins.”

    She stared in total disbelief, until she finally came to terms with it.

    “What is your name?” Mr. Anderson asked for the final time.

    “My name is Daphne Marie Collins, your next door neighbor and best friend of Leiah since elementary school. Everyone knows that.”

    “Of course! How foolish of me,” Mr. Anderson answered with a chuckle. “I will let you wait for Leiah to return home alone. I’m sure you two have some sort of plans for this evening.”

    About ten minutes later, Leiah flew in the front door to find her best friend Daphne waiting for her in the den.

    “Are you ready to head out tonight Daphne?” Leiah yelled enthusiastically. “I’ve heard that there’s going to be some parties going down at the nearby college!”

    “Do you really think they’re going to just let us in there?” Daphne asked doubtfully.

    “Pretty sure one of the seniors running the party likes me,” she replied with a grin on her face. “Going to use that to my advantage. Who knows, there might be something there for me.”

    Daphne rolled her eyes. “I’ll never trust you and a boy alone, no matter who they are. Remind me never to take your advice when it comes to them.”

    Leiah giggled, while Mr. Anderson, who was eavesdropping on all of this from the kitchen, simply sighed.

    “Guess that was only a temporary fix,” Mr. Anderson thought to himself. “Without dealing with the problem itself, all I am doing is going from the frying pan and into the fire.”