Let's see how it all started

Lying in the king sized bed, I thought about how up until recently, my life was mundane at best and below average at worst. Yes, I come from an upper-middle class home and never had to truly struggle like so many others do in the world. But that doesn't mean I was having a great time either. At 5'7" with no particular athletic or academic talent, I drew the short stick when it came to genetics. It doesn't sound so bad until you realize the gene pool my family has to work with.

My father was a star running-back in high school, but he wasn't just your typical jock. He went to college on a full-ride academic scholarship and graduated with a 4.0 GPA. His intellect, as well as his charming personality, landed him a cushy upper-management position at real-estate agency. I could never blame people when they were surprised to learn I was the son of the strong, clever, and charismatic Greg Jones.

Kelly Jones, my mother, was a star in her own right. Her amazon body type provided her the height and power to become the captain of her volleyball team, which she led to 4 consecutive national titles. She didn't lack in academics either as she went on to become a top lawyer in her firm. The accomplished woman only retired because she wanted a more traditional family life style. While she had a little trouble finding men who were taller than her, she was always going to be fine. Dad was just the cherry on top.

Finally there was my sister, Cindy who is a year older than me. At 5'9" she didn't quite get Mom's height (or bust) but she definitely inherited both of our parents' physical and mental gifts. The blonde beauty was the star of the track team and was recently accepted into multiple ivy league schools. Not to mention she was the most popular girl in our high school, a fact she liked to brag about whenever she felt the need to remind me I was loner.

As great as my family seemed from the outside, being the runt of this prestigious litter was rough to say the least. My father was constantly disappointed in me for being average, causing him to devote all of his attention to Cindy. Cindy herself was a complete bitch. She always teased me and found ways to blame me for everything she did. When she threw parties while my parents were away, she wouldn't bother cleaning up and simply framed me instead. It got to the point where I was cleaning up her messes in fear of being punished for them. Mom was wrapped around her finger as well, constantly claiming that no one but myself could do any chores because of Cindy's busy schedule. Over the years, I practically became the house maid. On top of everything, I was condemned to the smallest bedroom in the house because I was the smallest. I didn't really mind having the smallest room, I was the youngest child and that's a normal pecking order for many families. What really stung was that everyone made it clear that it was because I was small, like I was being punished for my natural shortcomings. I was miserable. But one day it all changed.

Cindy was bitching at me that her track uniform wasn't washed and put away in her closest. "You know I like to have my uniform laid out the night before you god damn midget!" her nasty voice still echos in my head.

I was never much of a fighter but something about how stupid the situation was caused me to talk back. "You know it would easier if you just washed your damn jersey yourself!"

The moment my life started to completely change is when she responded "Really? Oh, ok." and proceeded to take her jersey to the washer room.

I looked on in complete awe as I had never seen her calm down so quickly, or better yet do laundry. But my shock really came from this weird feeling that I somehow compelled her to do it. I started performing small tests on Cindy that no one would notice.

When I told her wearing black socks makes you run faster, she immediately threw out all of her white socks. I informed her that her dessert was actually meant for me, she just handed it over. My boldness really started to show when Mom and Dad were away. I started by letting her know it was her turn to clean the house.

I was too scared to try it on my parents because I was never really alone with one or the other. But with my dear sister, I spouted all kinds of bizarre statements and she would dance to my tune. Things started to get really wacky the summer Cindy finally graduated high school. Dad was always at work and Mom was now free to go out with her girlfriends since she didn't have to worry about driving Cindy to track events in the morning.

• "You'd be more comfy if you wore my used socks on your hands. Plus you love sniffing them, remember?"
• "Come on, Cindy. You know you're supposed to wear bikinis in the house."
• "Why are you sitting at the table? Eating off the floor like a dog is better for digestion."

As much as I wanted to enjoy toying with her as long as possible, I always made sure to turn her back to normal by saying that I was kidding about whatever I said. I was scared shitless the first time I did that because she instantly started to freak out saying I tricked her into doing stupid things/borderline perverted things. However in my panic I told her that she doesn't remember anything other than her average day. Just like that, the problem was solved. I got into a habit of reverting her to her old bitchy self earlier than I really needed to. Sometimes I would kick myself when no one came home for another two hours, but I couldn't take the chance. Until that one day.

Near the end of that summer, my parents went to visit my Mom's old teammate from college. Having a full day to mess with my plaything, I wasted no time calling Cindy into the living room. Feeding my sister one stupid realization after the other, I was having the time of my life. By sundown, Cindy was on all fours, shuffling around the house with wet sponges tied to her hands and knees. She was once again in a bikini, but this time I added something special. When I heard my parents little trip was coming up, I made a quick run to the costume shop for the cherry I was going to put on top of my perfect day. It was funny as hell seeing my bitch sister in a bikini, cleaning the floor with her 'super effective scrubbing technique'. However, it was even more hilarious that she was doing it wearing a full face of clown make-up and big rainbow afro wig to match. I was absolutely dying of laughter from the couch as she made her rounds back and forth.

Eventually, I realized that I haven't done any of my summer reading assignments for the upcoming school year. While I was tempted to make Cindy 'remember' that she was my homework helper, Mom said the floors needed to be mopped. So I picked my poison and went up to my room to bang them out. I felt secure because my parents weren't due to be home for at least another four hours. What I was not counting on was how boring the book I had to read was.

"CINDY WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??"

I almost flew out of my desk chair when Mom's shriek hit my eardrums. I frantically looked at my phone and my heart dropped when I saw the time. That stupid book put me to sleep right in my chair for a three and a half hour nap. I burst out of my room trying to think of any ridiculous reason for why my sister was crawling sponge clown. Half way to the stair case I made the decision that I was going to play dumb. For all they knew, I was in my room all day and had know idea what was going on.

"Is everything ok?!?" I yell as I ran down the steps, trying to sound like I wasn't privy to the cause of her scream.

When I got to the living room, it was just as I feared. Cindy was still on the ground wearing her bikini, sponges, and clown get-up. I don't even look at Mom, attempting to act like this is just as bizarre to me as it is to her.

"Ummm, Cindy? What's going on?" I ask using a dumbfounded tone. In response, Cindy looked up at me from the ground and began to speak.

"Oh hey, Timmy. Hope we didn't disturb your work. I was just telling mom you reminded me about the bikini rule. And that it's my turn to mop the floor. And how I like using my special sponge method to do it. And that I started dressing like a clown at home because deep down, I know I don't deserve to be taken seriously."

She paused for a brief moment and then said "Wow, I forgot a lot huh?" through a giggle.

I started to break out in a sweat when I realized that Cindy officially set the crosshairs on me by saying that I reminded her. Finally I look back up and face my mom with a look of pure fear of what is about to happen. She seemed to have a neutral expression but I assumed she was just trying to piece together whats really going on.

"Mom...I umm... I don't-" I started to mumble nonsense not know what to say anymore. Then she finally spoke.

"Oh hey, honey. Thanks for reminding Cindy about her dress code and to mop. I can not believe I forgot to do that. I mean, I'm the one who makes the rules and divvy's out the chores for Pete's sake!" She said in a semi-joking voice, like she simply discovered the glasses she was looking for were resting on her head the whole time.

I had never been on such a crazy roller coaster of emotions in my life. The bliss of relief that this wasn't going to blow up in my face washed over me. However the complete shock left me practically paralyzed. I just stood there silent and still like a statue. My thoughts were still working though. I remember wondering if my power could work on Mom or if it simply just made her think not see what I do to Cindy as completely insane. Either way I was still to scared to test my luck at the time. I was also caught up on the fact that Mom said that she originally started Cindy's bikini rule and deemed it her turn to mop. My inner attempts to put all the pieces together was stopped short when Mom looked down at my sister.

"Cindy, I appreciate you mopping the floor. Although, don't you think your 'special sponge method' is a little odd? I mean, how long have you been at this?" Mom asked her clown-faced daughter. I noticed that Mom's face and tone seemed pretty annoyed.

My sister sent the same attitude back with her answer "Mom, this how I like to mop the floor. Sure, Ive been moping for about four and a half hours. But thats four times faster than if I did it with just ONE sponge".

She then raised her right arm as if to show how small one sponge is. Mom's facial expression was still a mix of confused and annoyed as she looked down at her daughter from her 6 foot height.

"Fine. As long it gets done is what's important. I just will never understand why you don't just use an actual m-"

Just as Mom was going to finish her criticism, Cindy cut her off in a thunderous voice.

"I like using my special sponge method!" She snaps, her tone bratty like a child throwing a tantrum.

The outburst clearly turned Mom's expression from annoyed to down right angry.

"I get that! But do you HAVE to always put on that stupid clown stuff the moment you get home? I mean, Jesus Christ! What if someone drops by unexpectedly?" Mom started raising her voice like when she would scold one of us, well me at least. She also sounded like this was an argument they've been having for years.

I remember that being the moment things escalated to a full blown argument. There was yelling back and forth, almost like this tension has been bottled up for years and has finally bursted.

"I told you a million times that if anyone rings the doorbell, I'll run up to my room! School and track is so much pressure! Everyone always takes me so seriously, but I'm just a 19 year old girl. My clown face is an escape mechanism!" Cindy was yelling at the top of her lungs, still looking up at mom from the floor.

"Cindy, you look ridiculous!" was all Mom replied with.

My sister then let out an aggressive grunt before starting to remove the sponge on her left arm.

"THAT'S THE POINT! You know what? I don't need this! I finished mopping the floor. Im going to bed." She said as she stood up, untied one of her hand sponges, and stormed upstairs with the other three still attached.

With my sister out of the room, Mom looked at me and said "She's lucky she's smart and talented, cause boy does she have some strange tendencies. Did you really have to mention the clown makeup to her? I was hoping she would let that stupid habit go."

Luckily the argument not only gave me time to get over my shock paralysis, but it also gave me some insight on how exactly my new ability worked. The memories I implant a person's mind can be transferred to others, but it has to be through words.

"Yea, sorry about that. When I went to remind her she should be wearing a bikini, I was just shocked she wasn't in her usual house attire. I mean, I can't remember the last time I saw her face at home, you know, not caked in cheap make-up." I responded being carful to act as though I have lived the same fabricated past that they have.

Mom's face started to soften as time past from the screaming match. After letting out a defeated sigh Mom responded, "Good point. I probably would do the same out of disbelief that I wasn't looking at bozo."

Just then the front door opened and Dad stepped in the house.

"Honey? I just got back from getting gas and I could hear yelling from the driveway. Something about a clown?" He asked innocently, expecting to be told he misheard what was being said.

Mom didn't even look at him, she simply just pressed her eyes clothes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yes Greg, we had the clown argument again." She said with her annoyed voice returning. It seems like she really did not want to relive the whole ordeal.

My father furrowed his brow out of confusion. "Clown argument?" he asked, sounding like he really meant to say 'What the fuck are you talking about?'

Mom took a deep breadth and was about to speak. But now armed with complete knowledge of my power, I decided it was time to cut in.

"I got this one Mom."

[Author's Note: Please feel free to write your own chapter's on any of my story branches or original stories. They do not have to follow the same exact plot/direction or include all of the characters as my work (you can act as if they never existed). I love my work getting picked up by others and seeing what they have to offer]