Even as a witch with incredible powers, my sister was always a coward. She wanted to break up with her boyfriend but she didn’t have the guts to do it. So she bodyswapped us and told me if I didn’t break up with him for her she’d never turn us back. Then she morphed herself into a dress so that she could keep an eye on us.
Waiting at the bar for him to arrive, I tugged awkwardly at the purple dress she had become, feeling massively exposed as I smoothed the tight fabric over my butt. I was started to wish I’d figured out how to put on a bra before coming here. Then I saw him. He was hot. Super hot. As he eyes ran up and down my body in hunger, I knew then that I wanted this body. All it took were a few, simple words whispered into his ear.
“I’m a witch.”
The first rule of witch club: You do not talk about witch club. To reveal your powers to a mortal is to forfeight them forever. The entire bar turned as my dress screamed in pain and anger, as its magical powers were stolen from it. It was still cursing me as I left the bar draped over its boyfriend’s arm. In all fairness, I had done what she asked; he was no longer her boyfriend. He was mine.
She didn’t last long. That night he ripped her to shreds getting to my body. Only then did she finally fall silent.