The Wish Note, and Other Implements of Ilvaneth

Rowan “Rook” Paige set down his half-empty can of Dr. Pepper. From behind the counter of the apartment’s kitchenette, he looked out into the living room and breathed a deep sigh of content. Two of his roommates were sitting on the couch, not paying any attention to the drivel on the TV screen. Instead, both women were engaged in an intense match of tonsil hockey together, an act that was not uncommon for them, basically occurring anytime they were together and had nothing else to do, and they never seemed to care who was watching them do it.

Yes indeed, life was pretty good for the college-attending horny femboy, who was the current watcher. Things often just went his way, and he was happy about it. In fact, the frequency of these sapphic make-out sessions between his friends was something he distinctly remembered hoping would happen when he found out all of his roommates were going to be girls. He even had written proof of this thought.

On the counter in front of him was an old leather-bound black notebook, something he called his “Wish Note”. This name was inspired by the titular notebook of the anime Note, but was a title given in jest, as Rook didn’t believe it could actually grant his wishes. Still, it had been an invaluable asset in his life, carrying him through high school and well into college.

The book had been a gift from a friend when he was in high school. Unlike the wonderful world of today, Rook had a rather troubled life in his teenage years; his friend gave him the “Wish Note” to write down all of the things he truly desired in any given moment. She ultimately admitted that it probably wouldn’t have any real effect; it was just some weird psychological thing, basically a healthy medium with which to vent his frustrations. Either way, her own outlook on life had improved since she began doing it, so she was happy to share the idea.

A sense of nostalgia rushed through him as he looked through the pages. Dozens of dreams, wishes, and desires accumulated over the course of nearly a decade. Many different pens and many different versions of himself bled themselves onto these pages. Many different hopes, too. He looked at the very first entry, his handwriting in a purposeful chicken-scratch so as to avoid embarrassment if anyone else but him found his beloved Wish Note.

I wish my family would accept the real me.

There was a lot of pain in reading that one simple sentence. Rook felt his chest tighten just remembering what life was like back then. But it got better over time; his family eventually came to accept him as a crossdresser. Now they were the most supportive family someone like him could hope for.

It was rather fitting that this first wish would be featured so prominently and so well-preserved. He must have used a really good pen to write it, because it stood out more than the majority of other wishes on the page, many of which had faded slightly over time. This one, and a few others actually, still looked fresh. The ink almost looked wet, like he had only just written them seconds ago rather than eight years ago.

Another fresh-looking old wish drew his attention.

I wish I looked feminine.

There was a lot of pain in that one too. But it was kind of funny, Rook had a bad habit of forgetting that he used to be quite the ugly little bastard as a teen; this was, thankfully, no longer the case, and hadn’t been for a while now. If he had gone back in time and told fourteen-year-old Rook that he would one day basically just look like a woman with a flat chest and a dick, Past-Rook would have assumed it was a joke at his expense.

But here he was, looking so much like a girl that he had to use the women’s restrooms in public because if he used the men’s room, he got weird looks. Hey, it’s not like the women could tell the difference either, and it was a room meant for pissing and shitting so what was the big deal anyway?

Still, what a weird coincidence that these two wishes, darker than the others on the page, happened to come true. Both took time, in the case of his looks it was over the course of about five years, in fact. Now that he thought about it, he changed pretty dramatically, too. Old photos of himself were almost unrecognizable. Someone perusing an old family album of his might even think the photos of his sister were him instead of the pudgy weirdo next to her.

He continued to flip through the pages of the Wish Note, mostly for nostalgia’s sake, and landed on the current page of the most recent wishes. There it was, near the bottom of the rightmost column was the wish about his roommates casually being sapphic with each other.

Then he frowned, that one looked pretty fresh too. And so did these two, back to back:

I wish my sister would end up as my roommate.

I wish my other roommates would end up being really hot.

The coincidences were stacking up and beginning to tickle something in the back of Rook’s brain. And what about this one?

I wish my classes were all easy A’s.

It was a result of being incredibly frustrated with the workload of one of Rook’s earlier semesters in college. Funny, now that he thought about it, the semester after writing that, and all the semesters since then, his classes had been dummy easy. He’d lucked out a lot with his professors.

Or was it luck at all?

His head shot up from the notebook, once again into the living room where his two roommates were twisting tongues. One of them was in a tight, white tank top and panties, and the other was just wearing a plain white bra and panties. Rook’s eyes fell back down to the page.

I wish my roommates dressed skimpier.

Sure enough, that one, just underneath the one about casual lesbianism—both of which had come about during a late night fap session—looked bold and fresh on the page like the others.

He was beginning to see a pattern, and he swallowed hard. His mind was in the process of exploding; he had to be sure, though. Hearing the distant sound of the shower from the bathroom, he had an idea. He pulled the pen out from the loop of the notebook and began writing a new wish, just as an experiment.

I wish my sister wouldn’t mind if I walk in on her in the bathroom.

Conveniently, he had to pee, which meant he had a legitimate excuse if nothing else. This prompted him to add another wish, noticing a potential problem.

I wish my sister wouldn’t mind seeing me piss.

Rook’s hands were shaking a little, if his working theory was correct, he could walk into that bathroom, pee, and his showering sister would have nothing to say about it. If it was incorrect, he didn’t risk much. He and Lily were close, best friends even; he could easily brush the whole thing off as a dumb prank and she’d probably believe it.

But he had to know.

With his eyes locked on the bathroom door across the room, he downed the rest of his Dr. Pepper, tossed the empty can in the recycling bin, and marched toward the restroom.