Your sister Abbie is the only one you could possibly talk to

Obviously, you aren’t going to your mom for advice about this. You consider talking to your best friend Mark, but he doesn’t have any more experience than you do. Your sister Abbie is the only one you could feel even a little bit comfortable explaining this situation to. She also has a much calmer head than you do, and can certainly give you advice that’s better than anything you come up with on your own.

Abbie’s car is in the driveway when you get to your house. You walk in the door and yell out, “I’m home.”

From upstairs, Abbie answers, “Hey Beanpole, how was school? Anything more happen with Ms. Fellows?”

“I need to talk to you about that,” you call up the stairs. “But I need to get a drink of water first.” You walk into the kitchen and pour a tall glass of water. You’re thirsty from your long walk home, so you’re gulping down your second glass when your sister walks in.

“What’s the deal, Stretch?” she asks. “Don’t you usually get home earlier than this?”

You nod and swallow the last of the water. “Yeah. I wasn’t at school. I didn’t get to school today. I was at Ms. Fellows’ place all day,” you tell her.

Abbie’s eyebrows go up. “Fuck! Really? What happened?”

You can’t help looking at her with a little smirk, as if to say it should be obvious what happened. Then you shake your head. “I think I messed up. I need to tell you something. It’s really weird.”

“If anyone messed up, it’s your teacher,” Abbie insists. “They are absolutely not supposed to ever do anything like that with their students.”

“It wasn’t her fault. I made her do it,” you say, “With a magic spell.” You mutter, looking down at the floor.

“What?!” Abbie guffaws. “Dammit, you had me going. You set this all up yesterday when you asked me about Ms. Fellows,” she says, smiling wide. “I guess I should have expected payback for all the times I teased you. I didn’t think you were that good an actor though. You sold it perfectly.”

“I’m not joking,” you insist. “There really is a magic spell to enchant a woman. I didn’t mean for it to affect Ms. Fellows, but it did. Now she’s obsessed with me.”

“Listen…” Abbie starts, but you cut her off.

“I’ll show you,” you say, “Come with me. I’ll show you the website.” You walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your room. She follows, smirking.

You open the website and show her the Enchantment of Eros spell. “See?” you say, “I didn’t mean it. Honestly, I was just goofing around when I cast the spell the other night. I wasn’t even thinking about Ms. Fellows.”

“You bonehead,” Abbie snorts. “Is this janky homemade website supposed to convince me?”

“But it worked. How can I convince you?” you ask.

“Why are you even trying to keep this up, Beanpole?” Abbie says, shaking her head.

You consider asking Abbie to take you back to Emily’s place, to see what your former teacher is like now, and see how she does anything you tell her. That might make her believe, but it could take making Emily do something really ****, with your sister as a witness. That feels kind of gross.

You click back to the list of spells, to find something that you could use to show your sister that magic works. Most of them look like they wouldn’t act fast enough. You think the Journey of Morpheus is the only one that might convince Abbie.

“Look at this,” you say. “If I cast this, and then go into your dreams tonight, would that convince you?”

Abbie rolls her eyes. “Sure,” she says sarcastically. “But how would I know that I didn’t just happen to dream about you?”

You think for a little bit. “I’ll keep repeating a message when I’m in your dream. Then in the morning, you write down what I said, and if it matches what I wrote before you show me, then it would have to have been me, and not just your dream. Would you accept that as proof?” you challenge her.

“You’re not going to let this go until I agree, are you?” Abbie says with a sigh. “OK.” She leans down to read the spell over your shoulder. “Looks like you need something I’ve held.” She goes into her room and comes back with a small stuffed toy. “Here’s Lambchop. I’ve held her plenty.”

You perform the spell as it’s described on the website, reading carefully to get it right.

“That’s it?” Abbie asks. “I thought you’d have more mumbo jumbo prepared.”

“That’s it,” you say. “You’ll see tonight.”

“Of course I will,” she says scornfully. She grabs Lampchop back from you and goes to her room.

Your mom comes home soon after that. When she walks in the door, she calls, “David! I’d like to speak with you. Please come here.”

When you get to the living room, your mother has a stern expression. “I got a call from your school attendance office today. You were absent. Just because you’re a senior with a few weeks left doesn’t mean you can ditch school young man.”

You realize that you completely forget to come up with an excuse to tell your mom for missing school, or even a believable story about where you were all day. As a result, you get a very long lecture about the importance of school and seeing things through to the end. You also lose internet access and your phone for a week, and your mother will be keeping a close eye on you until the end of the school year. That is going to cause problems.

You’re afraid that Abbie will say something in front of Mom about the website, or what you told her about Ms Fellows, which she thinks is a joke you pulled on her. As a result, you’re nervous all through dinner. Abbie doesn’t mention anything about it though.

After dinner, your mom goes to your room and takes the power cord for your computer. “You can have this for getting homework done, and nothing else,” she tells you. “I’ll contact the school tomorrow and find out all the work you have to make up, so I’ll know what you should be getting done, and I’ll be checking.”

You don’t have anything to do but read until it’s time for bed. Then you toss for a while before you fall asleep.

You become aware of a swirl of chaotic colors and images. The scene finally calms down and you’re in a classroom at school. You don’t recognize the classroom, or the teacher who’s standing at the front. You do recognize your sister. Abbie is sitting at a desk in the middle of the classroom in just a bra and panties. She looks worried. All the students around her are handing in papers, but she doesn’t have any to hand in.

You feel your cheeks heat up from a blush at seeing your sister’s very attractive body exposed in public. You’ve seen her in a bikini at the beach that shows as much skin, but her being in just her underwear surrounded by people who are fully dressed is unsettlingly erotic.

The spell said you would be able to change things in the dream with your will, so you imagine Abbie wearing a pair of jeans and a polo shirt like she wears to work. After a little concentration, the clothes appear on her. You feel relieved and also impressed by the power you have to make things happen in your sister’s dream-world.

At this point, you realize that you need to give her a message to prove you were in her dream. It has to be something that she’ll remember, but not something that you could guess randomly. You decide, and think a piece of paper into your hand. The words ‘THE ANSWER IS 43” are printed on it, filling the entire page.

You walk up to her, and say, “Abbie, the answer is forty-three. Remember that.”

She looks up from searching for her homework assignment. “What are you doing here, Stretch? I need my term paper.”

You put the paper in her hand. “This is it. Look at it. The answer is forty-three. Remember that.”

She frowns in confusion. “That’s not a term paper,” she says.

You nod encouragingly. “Just hand it in. Trust me. The answer is forty-three,” you assure her.

She doesn’t have anything else to hand in, so she passes the sheet of paper to the student sitting at the desk in front of her. You concentrate on what you want to happen next. All the papers are piled on the teacher’s desk. He walks to the whiteboard and writes: The answer is 43. Then he turns to the class. “Everyone who had the correct answer, raise your hand.”

You nudge Abbie. “Raise your hand, Abs. The answer is forty-three. You got it right. Remember it.”

Abbie raises her hand.

“Yes, Miss Harris, what is the answer?” the teacher asked.

Hesitantly, she answered. “Forty-three?”

“Yes. Miss Harris is the only one who got it right. The answer is forty-three.” The teacher said proudly. “Very good.”

You dissolve the classroom and think up a television game show set. Abbie is one of the contestants. You make yourself the host. The answer to every question is forty-three, no matter what the question is. Over and over. Soon she picks up on that and is beating her competitors to the buzzer and getting the answer right every time. At the end of the show, a huge sign with flashing lights drops down, it reads: THE ANSWER IS 43. Money rains down around Abbie.

Then you’re in a car. Abbie is driving and you are sitting in the passenger seat. Flashing lights come on behind her. She pulls over. A cop walks up to her window. “Do you know how fast you were going?” he asks.

You nod to her. “The answer is forty-three,” you encourage her.

She looks at the police officer and says, “The answer is forty-three.”

“That’s exactly right,” he says with a curt nod. He writes on his ticket book and hands her a slip of paper with the words: THE ANSWER IS 43.

You put her through a few more scenes. Each time, you repeat the phrase over and over. You make her read it — make her repeat it. Eventually, you can’t think of another scene to put her in, so you just imagine a plain white room. You sit across a table from Abbie.

“Do you know what’s going on?” you ask her. She shakes her head.

“You’re dreaming. I’m in your dreams because I cast a magic spell. Do you remember that?” you ask.

She looks confused. “I, I’m not sure. Maybe. It didn’t seem real. This doesn’t seem real,” she says.

“It’s not. It’s a dream,” you tell her. “But it is the real me in your dream, by magic. It’s important that you believe that. It’s very important that you remember the answer. Do you remember the answer?”

Her frown deepened. “The answer? The answer is… forty-three?” she says, sounding unsure.

You smile wide. Balloons and confetti fall around her. “Perfect!” you say. You wipe your hand across the table, and the words: THE ANSWER IS 43 appear on its surface.

This isn’t like a dream for you. It feels like you’re staying up all night. There’s no way for you to go to sleep, but you are too tired to think of anything else. You just relax and let Abbie dream her natural dream. You find yourself sitting in a comfortable chair in front of a fireplace. The room you’re in looks like a study or a library in a mansion. A man who looks like the teacher from Abbie’s first dream is sitting in another chair like yours. He’s handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes. Abbie is kneeling next to his chair, and he’s stroking her hair. She’s wearing a short skirt and white shirt, it looks almost like a school uniform. She also has a slim leather collar around her neck.

“Pet, show me your pretty pussy,” the man says.

Abbie glances at you, and blushes deep red. “If you wish, Sir, but, my brother is here.”

“Did I ask you to introduce me to a guest?” he demands. Then he growls “I told you to show me the pussy that I own.”

You don’t want this to go any further, so you think quickly. The man adds, “Unless… Can you tell me the answer?”

You find you’re holding your breath, waiting for Abbie to respond. She hesitates before she says, “Yes, Daddy, the answer…”

Your buzzing alarm wakes you. You groan. You feel exhausted as if you were up all night. You manage to drag yourself out of bed and scrawl down ‘the answer is 43’ on a piece of paper from one of your notebooks. You fold it up and tear out a blank sheet. You take it and your pen to Abbie’s room.

You turn on her light and shake her awake. “Abs, get up. Time for the experiment,” you say in a sluggish voice.

“Huh? Wha? Leave me alone.” she mutters, rolling away from you.

You shake her a little more firmly. “We have to. It’s important,” you insist.

Abbie opens her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she yawns.

“I’m proving magic is real. Remember?” You hold up your folded piece of paper. “I was in your dreams all night last night. I wrote down the message I gave you,” you say, and drop the paper on her desk. You hold out the paper and pen to her. “Try to remember your dreams. Remember what I told you over and over. Write it down.”

Your sister frowns. You don’t know if she’s concentrating, or just confused and annoyed by you waking her up early. Finally, she scratches something down on the paper and shoves it back to you. You back up and hold your hands up. “I’m not going to touch it or look at it. Compare them. What did we both write down?”

She struggles out of her bed and leans over her desk to open your folded sheet and read it. “Fuck,” she whispers. “How did you do that? Some kind of magic trick?”

You step up to look at the two pieces of paper. Hers just has the number 43 written on it.

“It wasn’t a trick. It was a magic spell,” you say. “How could I know what you were going to write? I didn’t touch that paper after you wrote your answer. I couldn’t have copied what you wrote. Face it, Abs. It’s magic.”

Abbie blinks at you. “You were really in my dreams? You, you controlled them? I remember… Did you put me in a collar and have a Dom tell me to show you my pussy, perv?” she asks in an accusing voice.

You back up. “No. No! I was tired by then, just letting you dream. I didn’t know that was going to happen. That was all your subconscious,” you say nervously. “I just made him ask you for the answer, to see if you would remember it.”

Your sister glares at you, unconvinced. “Fuck. If I’m even going to be mad at you about it. I have to admit you’re right and you were in my dream,” she grouses.

“So do you believe now?” you ask. “I need your help. Remember Ms Fellows? She’s enchanted and obsessed with me. I don’t know what to do about it.”

Abbie collapses back on her bed. “What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?” she groans.

“I don’t know. I just needed someone who I could talk to. If I don’t give Ms Fellows some contact with me every day, she’ll just get worse, and she already tried to kidnap me and run away to Florida. Now Mom is going to be watching everything I do. This is all so fucked up,” you say. You can hear how **** you sound.

“Kidnap you to Florida?” Abbie asks. “What the hell?” She sighs heavily. “OK. Get to school. I’ll see if I can placate Mom and get you ungrounded to start. Then we’ll figure out what to do about Ms. Fellows.”

You’re barely able to stay awake through school. You nod off in English class, and the substitute teacher loudly clears his throat to wake you up. When you get home, Abbie is still out, probably taking one of her final exams.

You are worried about Emily and consider riding your bike to her place, but you’re so tired you doubt you’d make it, and you’re worried about your mom checking on you and finding out you’re not home. You can’t even call Emily on the home phone, because you don’t know her number.

The worry just makes you feel more hopeless and exhausted. You drop onto your bed and fall asleep. It was a good decision to stay home. The home phone ringing wakes you up. It’s your mother calling to make sure you’re there. After you convince her that you’re not getting into any trouble, you go back to sleep.

Abbie shakes you awake. “Get up, Beanpole. Get in my car. I told Mom I’m taking you to an end-of-semester blood drive at the college. She was all for you bleeding to atone for skipping school. Now, I want to meet this enchanted **** of yours.”

I hope everyone is enjoying the various branches of this story. If you’d like to read more of my writing, including some alternative adventures of Dave Harris with his sister Abbie and his mom Stella, follow or subscribe to my account on Ream at https://reamstories.com/strangemagic.

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