It was noon by the time Sophie awoke. The first thing she became aware of was a vague mass of troubled feelings. Then she remembered Chloe whispering to her and holding her and wondered what was possibly worth worrying about when Chloe was there. A moment later, Heather’s words came back to her and her eyes snapped open.

Chloe was still there, sitting at her desk and looking down at a notebook. She had already dressed, though her blazer remained folded over the chair. Chloe must have heard her stirring, because she turned and looked down at her with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Chloe, the Heathers,” Sophie began frantically. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”

She had lost a few precious hours of her remaining time.

Chloe’s smile faded. “I wanted you to rest. I figured you needed a clear head if we’re going to figure out what to do.”

Sophie sighed. Nothing could be done about it now. She sat up slowly, pleased to discover that her head didn’t pound. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that Chloe may have had a point.

Chloe offered her a plate of toast pieces. “Your mom made these for you. Though they’re a little cold now. They were making some sort of weird diet pancakes, but I figured you wouldn’t want to eat those cold.”

Sophie took the plate gratefully, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. “Wait, you talked to my mom?”

“Yeah. She was a little concerned to see me in the house at first. I told her a sanitized version of what happened with Josh—I figured it’s up to you if you want to tell the whole story—and explained I brought you home to keep you safe and that you were a little freaked out and asked me to stay over.”

She sat tense for a moment, clearly worried about whether she’d done the right thing. “How did she react to that?”

“Well, she got pretty angry and thanked me for taking care of you. Then she was about to call the principal—I guess she has the principal’s home number?—and I told her to wait and maybe talk to you first.”

Sophie felt a mixture of guilt and apprehension. The former at the fact that her mother was worried about her and the latter at the idea that her mother would cause Sophie more trouble in her attempts to protect her. However, she pushed this thought aside when she realized that something in Chloe’s tone suggested that there was more.

“What else happened?”

Chloe fidgeted nervously. “She asked if we were back together.”

Sophie’s skin felt electric as she processed those words.

“What did you say?” she asked, her voice a quiet whisper.

Chloe’s gaze diverted for the tiniest moment. “I said that we were still figuring that out.”

All of the air seemed to leave Sophie’s lungs in an instant. “Right.”

Chloe looked at the floor, fidgeting even more. “She uh… also said that we’re still young and have our whole lives ahead of us and,” Chloe’s face turned even more scarlet. “She’d been doing some research…”

“Wait, what?” Sophie shook her head, sending raven-colored curls cascading around her face as she realized exactly what Chloe had meant. “No!”

“... and we should be safe…”

Sophie felt her face heating. She grabbed her pillow and buried her head inside it, groaning loudly. “Oh my god, not the ‘just be safe’ talk…” 

Chloe quickly cleared her throat, clearly trying to change the subject while holding up a notebook. “I ran out to my car and grabbed this.”

Sophie lowered the pillow to examine it. “Your Chem notes?”

Chloe laughed. “No, I’ve been doing some research—”

“Chloe!” Sophie gasped, pulling the pillow back over her head. “Not you too?”

Chloe’s cheeks pinkened once more. “Oh! Oh, god, no, no. That’s not what I mean! I meant about the Heathers!” She opened the notebook, showing Sophie her notes. I’ve been trying to find out anything I can about them and the types of wishes they’ve been making. I was hoping it would help somehow.”

Sophie held out a hand and Chloe passed it to her. She flipped through it, studying the details of Chloe’s investigation. “This is great.” Her head bobbed up, her eyes wide and excited. “You could be a detective.”

Chloe let out a nervous chortle. “I don’t know about that. I don’t think I even found anything useful.”

As she read, Sophie had to admit that it didn’t seem like there was much that could help them. There was one odd thing she noticed, though.

“Huh.”

Chloe scooted over beside Sophie on the bed. “What?”

“These wishes.” Sophie flipped through a few pages of the notebook. “Is this all of them?”

“The ones I could find, yeah. It’s surprisingly easy to pick them out by how suddenly a good thing just falls into their laps or vice versa for one of their victims.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “They mostly seem to be to benefit Heather M. and Heather S. I don’t really see anything specific to Heather K. Anything relating to her always has a side benefit for the other two.”

“Really?” Chloe asked, leaning over to look. “Why is she even friends with them? They don’t seem to treat her that well.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sophie replied. “Heather M. treats her like a maid.”

“Do you think we could convince her to turn against them?”

Sophie shook her head. “She seems really loyal. Like, disturbingly loyal. We’d be more likely to get Heather S. on our side. And even she...” She trailed off, recalling with some discomfort her past attempts to get Heather S. to sympathize.

The two sat in silence for several moments as Sophie stared at the notebook. She thought about the timid Heather. If she wasn’t getting wishes from the Well, and she was pushed around so badly, then what was she getting out of their friendship? Heather M.’s voice crept through Sophie’s mind.

 

...far more than Heather K. ever got...

 

“There’s gotta be more to Heather K.,” Sophie said, finally. 

Chloe nodded. “There has to be a reason why she’s so creepily obsessed with them.”

Sophie scrunched her face as she tried to make sense of something she heard the previous night. “Heather M. mentioned something about me having more chances than Heather K. did. Maybe she’s so afraid of her that it’s a Stockholm Syndrome thing?”

“Well, what do her parents think about her friendship with them?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never met them. We only ever seem to hang out at Heather M.’s house and once at Heather S.’s house.”

The two looked at each other.

“Do you think it’s worth talking to them? Or would we just be wasting our time?” Sophie wondered.

“Hey, I’m still a fan of plan beat-them-up-until-they-give-us-the-coin, but if you want to save that for a last resort then we’ve got to start somewhere,” Chloe replied.

Sophie bit at her lip before exhaling deeply. “No, we need to try something else, first. We’ll save the fists for last.”

Chloe shrugged. “You said there’s gotta be more to Heather K. but we won’t know for sure unless we try.”

Sophie nodded. This was most likely a dead end, but if there was even a small chance that she could gain some leverage over the Heather who now carried the coin, she had to take it. “The Heathers are all hanging out at Heather M.’s place. And I have Heather K.’s address in my phone.”

Chloe grinned. “Perfect. Once you’re dressed we’ll stop by my place so I can put on something less school dancey. If nothing else, I’ve gotta know what kind of parents someone like Heather K. has.”

“I think her mom works with my dad,” Sophie recalled. “So probably just a couple of stern business people.”

 

* * *

 

Heather K. lived in the nicest-looking house on her block. Its black paint and healthy rose garden stood out against the faded paint and unkempt lawns of the surrounding houses. Yet its immaculate appearance didn't look cold or stark. Instead it looked like a home whose owners had put love into maintaining every detail.

As Chloe led her through the wrought-iron gate, Sophie's doubts began to resurface.

“Are you sure about this? I mean, what are they actually going to tell us that’ll help us fight back?”

Chloe laughed. “This was your idea.”

Sophie stuck out her tongue. “It was not.”

Chloe looked Sophie in the eyes and flashed that beautiful smile. “Look, we won’t know until we try. Cogito ergo sum, right?”

Sophie puzzled over that for a moment. “I think you mean ‘carpe diem.’ Seize the day.”

Chloe blushed. “Right, that one.”

With that, she gave Sophie’s hand a reassuring squeeze and rang the doorbell. It was soon answered by a man wearing a black and purple suit. He was tall and slender, with neatly combed hair and a Clark Gable mustache.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Kowalski. We're friends of Heather's,” said Chloe, in an agonizingly polite voice.

His deep blue eyes washed over them, but not in a cold way. “Actually, it's Grey. Septimus Grey,” the man said warmly. “We gave our daughter her mother's surname. I'm afraid she isn't here right now, though.”

“Oh, sorry!” Sophie apologized. “Did we interrupt a business meeting, or…?”

He smiled again. “Nope.”

Sophie and Chloe eyed his suit before shooting a quick glance to the other.Sophie took a deep breath. “Well, in that case, we were actually hoping to talk to you,” she said. “But it looks like you're about to go out. Maybe we should come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re staying in for the night, actually.”

Sophie and Chloe both stammered out incomplete responses, caught off-guard by the immaculately dressed man.

Septimus suddenly began laughing. “Sorry, sorry. I can never resist when answering the door in a suit.” He stood aside, gesturing for them to enter. “Please, come in. Have a seat. We actually were just heading out—a small local orchestra is playing Hungarian folk music at the park—but we’ve got a little bit of time to talk,” he said.

The inside was as beautifully decorated as the outside. All expensive-looking furniture in black and red, made of velvet and silk. There were statues of Egyptian gods on a table, porcelain dolls on a shelf, and paintings of Gothic castles on one wall. Sophie briefly worried that she'd damage the vintage couch just by sitting on it.

Heather's mother, or a woman Sophie assumed was her mother was there as well. She was a large woman wearing an elegant black dress with a purple corset. Her hair was tightly curled and her makeup looked like it had taken hours to apply. “Hello. I'm Courtney Kowalski,” she said. “It's nice to meet you.”

“It's nice to meet you, too,” said Sophie. “I'm Sophie, and this is Chloe.”

“Would you like some tea?” Courtney asked.

Sophie was about to decline, but Chloe spoke up first with a “Yes, please.”

Courtney and Septimus went to the kitchen and Chloe hopped up. “Good. They both went. I wanted to show you this,” she said quietly.

She led Sophie to one of the walls. While she'd noticed the paintings, Sophie had initially failed to observe that this one was covered in photos. Only a few of them showed Septimus and Courtney, but almost all of them showed a girl who bore little resemblance to Heather.

“Look. That's her,” Chloe announced, pointing to one of the photos. It appeared to be a family photo, taken in a park. Courtney and Septimus were there, dressed much as they were today. They weren't smiling, but their expressions looked peaceful, not serious. Septimus was holding a parasol. The girl was there, too, dressed all in black and wearing a similar expression. Looking closely, Sophie could see that underneath her makeup and dyed hair, she was Heather K.

“It’s… it’s her.” She ran a finger over the frame’s glass. “Take away the blonde bubblegum aesthetic, and it’s her.”

Shocked, Sophie examined the other photos. In most of them, the girl was smiling. However, it wasn't Heather's blissful simper. Instead, it was a broad, confident grin. It was Heather, posing dramatically with her hands on her hips. Heather, laying on a rock and gazing into a pond. Heather dressed as a pirate, sitting on a fake treasure chest at an amusement park, winking at the camera. Her hair was a different color in almost every photo, but in the oldest picture of a little girl in a frilly dress Sophie could see that her hair was naturally blonde. It looked like she hadn't worn that color since she was a young child.

“She's like a totally different person,” Sophie said breathlessly. Sophie looked to Chloe who wore a perplexed frown.

“I remember that girl,” said Chloe. “She had all these friends who followed her around in the hallways. She'd flirt with just about everyone. She even used to show up at our practices to hit on my teammates. But… that wasn’t Heather K.”

Sophie thought back. She vaguely remembered a goth girl who showed up at Chloe's practices, and recalled seeing the same girl flirting with several boys from the drama club. But she’d moved away, right?

“Looking at the photos?” asked Septimus from behind them. The two had returned from the kitchen, and Courtney was setting a tea tray on the coffee table.

Sophie let out a small squeak of fright. Courtney and Septimus both laughed and gestured them over.When they were settled back on the couch, and Septimus had served the tea, he returned to the reason they were there. “You wanted to talk about Belladonna? You both look to be her age.”

“Belladonna?” asked Sophie.

“Our daughter,” Courtney explained. She hesitated a moment, looking uncomfortable. “Although lately she's been going by her middle name.”

Sophie and Chloe shared a look of surprise. “She's... changed a lot recently, hasn't she?” Sophie asked.

Her question got a surprising reaction from the parents. Both leaned forward, with a sudden eagerness. “You’ve noticed?” Septimus asked with a mixture of shock and relief.

“Well, not exactly,” Sophie admitted. “I didn’t really know her before. But comparing those photos to how she is now, it’s kind of hard to miss.”

“Everyone in the family is talking about it,” Courtney said. “We can’t figure it out. But the strange part is that no one at school seems to notice. Her teachers act like nothing has changed, and her friends say they don’t even know her.”

“At first, we thought she might just be trying some new things,” Septimus continued. “She’s always been one to experiment, and we’ve always tried to support her, even when she went through that volleyball phase, but this is completely different. She’s lost all of her old interests. Stopped listening to her favorite music, stopped reading, stopped drawing. She didn't even want to go to the players workshop’s production of Sweeney Todd last week. It used to be her favorite musical. Instead, all she talks about is her new friends. You know them?”

“We’re familiar,” Chloe said dryly.

Courtney gave her a conspiratorial look. “There’s something off about them, isn’t there? It’s nothing that seems strange on its own. Like, there’s nothing odd about two friends having the same name or coordinating their outfits. But there’s something creepy about the way Belladonna has become drawn into their world. More than just dressing like them or using her middle name to match them. It’s like they’re the only thing that matters to her now. Every whim of theirs becomes the most important thing in the world to her. It’s almost like they’ve brainwashed her.”

Sophie felt her blood run cold. She realized that Courtney was closer to the truth than she knew. Heather K, or rather Belladonna, had been brainwashed by the other two Heathers. They had taken this confident, independent girl and turned her into a worshipful sycophant who would crawl through brambles for them with a smile on her face. She wondered which would be worse, going back to being Thomas, or being brainwashed like Belladonna. It was like being forced to choose between imprisonment and execution. She sipped tea from her shaking cup, trying to keep herself from panicking.

Chloe continued to chat with Belladonna's parents, but Sophie wasn't listening. Despite her near-panicked state, she could feel the beginnings of a plan in her mind. She couldn’t believe that a long shot like this had actually proven helpful.

“Listen,” she said to the parents suddenly. “I think I may have a way to help your daughter. I can't go into details, but if I'm right, Belladonna should be back to normal soon.”

For a moment, she wondered if that was a mistake. If she suggested she had answers, they would demand them, wouldn’t they? Instead, however, the parents’ expressions became hopeful.

“You’re sure?” Septimus asked. “You can undo whatever they’ve done to her?”

Sophie nodded. “I think so, yeah. I know it’s asking a lot for you to trust me, but this situation is…” Hard to believe? Complicated? How to finish that sentence.

Thankfully, Courtney finished it for her. “Something private. We’ve always been close to Belladonna, but part of that closeness comes from respecting when there’s something she wants to keep to herself.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Septimus asked.

“You’ve already helped more than you can imagine,” Sophie replied.

 

* * *

 

Heather Kowalski pulled her car to a stop at the usual nondescript section of forest and stepped out, looking around nervously as if expecting the other Heathers to suddenly appear and punish her. This wasn’t the first time she had had to take care of some problem behind the other Heathers’ back, but this particular issue was so personal and viscerally frightening that she couldn’t escape the thought that something was sure to go horribly wrong.

I’ve found a way to help. Come to the cave alone, or the Heathers will never speak to you again.. was the text Heather had discovered as she awoke Sunday morning.

What was wrong with Sophie? Why couldn’t she see that the Heathers knew best? Wasn’t it enough that she had failed Heather M. enough to be ostracized? She had to continue to come after them? Why did she hold such animus? Heather couldn’t make sense of it.

She didn’t know how Sophie thought she would change anything—presumably it had to do with her strange powers or the mysterious creatures she saw—but it didn’t matter. She had to be lying. There was only one coin, and Heather held it at the bottom of her leather purse. One wish and the problem would go away. The Well had opened her eyes. She laughed quietly to herself. Maybe it could open Sophie’s eyes, too. She had never imagined being as happy as she was when she received a kind word or completed a task for the Heathers. Heather M. was so obsessed with breaking Sophie… wouldn’t she be happy that Heather K. had solved the Sophie problem for her? It pained a small part of her to imagine sending Sophie back to what she was, and relegating her to a disgusting secret that needed to remain buried. She wished she could rewrite her history, and let the four of them remain friends, forever. Anything they were before, or had desires to be, gone. Only focused on the here and now.. Maybe she could do it. Heather M. might be mad, but maybe...

Walking briskly, jogging occasionally as fast as her wedge sandals would allow, she made her way through the woods and climbed down the ladder into the Well’s cavern. The sight of the pool was a huge relief. She was still herself and everything she needed to protect herself was right before her. Sophie was lying, and Heather was still in control. And she finally had the chance to fix everything. She strode towards the edge of the pool, pulling the coin from her purse.

The sudden sound of footsteps made her look up just as Chloe caught her wrist. She dropped the coin and she dropped with it, trying to pick it back up, but Chloe yanked her back up. Heather began pushing, hitting her wrist, punching her face, trying to get her to let go or at least prevent her from getting the coin herself. Unfortunately, she was no match for the sports star and Chloe caught her other wrist and held her easily as Sophie appeared, snatching the coin from the stone floor.

“Sophie!” Heather K. squealed. “What are you doing?! Let me go!”

Sophie approached her, a sad look on her face. “Not yet, Belladonna.”

Heather K.’s eyes shot open.

“No, no, please, no, you can’t do this.” Her voice quavered as she begged.

Sophie hesitated. “This isn’t you, Belladonna.” For a moment, Heather saw hope. 

“Listen, Sophie, you don’t really want to do this. I’m happier this way. You don’t want to take away someone’s happiness, right? Think about it, I’ve had the coin for a while now, haven’t I? If I wanted to go back, I would have.”

“You deserve to be yourself,” Sophie replied. “We all do.”

The look on her face wasn’t uncertainty, Heather realized. It was pity.

“No!” Heather screeched, her struggling renewed. “I don’t want to be her! Don’t make me be her, Sophie!”

Chloe grunted as Belladonna caught her in the eye with a flailing fist. “Hurry, Soph!”

Sophie hurriedly turned towards the water. “I wish that all wishes on Belladonna Kowalski were undone!” Sophie called out, tossing the coin.

Heather tore herself from Chloe’s grip and dashed into the pool, diving forward in a desperate attempt to catch the coin. “No! My name is Heather! It’s Heather! It’s—”

She landed face-first in the water just a moment before the coin landed a few inches away, sliding neatly into the hair trap.

The screams of terror cut short, their reverberations still bouncing off the stone walls. The blonde-haired girl remained still face down in the pool. Sophie knew she should check on her, but she hesitated. She was still reeling from the fact that, as she had tossed the coin, she had felt the familiar pinpricks, accompanied by a series of visions too fast and chaotic to make out, but somehow leaving her with the impression that she needed to stop the coin, to somehow take back the wish she had just made. But she couldn’t have done anything wrong, right? Belladonna needed to be freed.

For a moment, Sophie wondered if the girl in the pool was conscious, but she soon stirred. Slowly, struggling, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees and looked around, breathing heavily.

“Where—?”

She looked over her shoulder at Chloe and Sophie standing by the edge of the water, giving Sophie a look at her dazed expression and half-open mouth..  She felt around herself in the water, patted and examined her own clothes, then looked back to Sophie and Chloe, awareness dawning in her expression.

She stood, shivering from the cold, and waded towards them, unsteadily at first, but soon confident, like a child learning to walk condensed into a few steps.

Sophie, bounced on her heels anxiously, waiting for her at the edge of the pool.

“Heather?” Sophie asked in a hushed voice. 

“Is she okay?” Chloe added, matching Sophie’s tone.

The shaking, wet girl shook her head slowly. “M-my name. It’s not H-Heather.”  Her expression became quizzical, as if what she had said didn’t sound quite right. Then, she inhaled deeply and blinked her eyes.

“What was that?” Sophie asked as Chloe leaned in.

“My name is Belladonna…” Belladonna said in a long exhale. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She brought her hands to her face as laughter erupted from her mouth and tears sprang forth. “Belladonna! I’m Belladonna, not a Heather!” Sophie and Chloe exchanged glances, unsure what was happening.

“B-Belladonna?” Sophie called out, taking a step forward. Belladonna twirled towards the pool again with a wicked grin plastered across her face.

“Fuck. The. Heathers!” She screamed out, emphasizing the expletive. She closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of liberation. Sophie felt a mixture of excitement and fear. She was happy to see Belladonna’s elation at her freedom, but the ex-Heather seemed almost drunk. Still slightly disconnected from her surroundings. Were there still lasting effects from her brainwashing? “Belladonna!” she said sharply, trying to get her attention. Belladonna turned to face her again, blinking as if surprised to see her. Then she sighed through a soft smile. She quickly enveloped the smaller girl in a hug.

“Hey, Sophie,” she replied, “thank you.” A moment later, Chloe was also pulled into the group hug. Sophie and Chloe stood with her a moment, neither saying anything. Finally, she released them. “Sorry I, you know, punched you, Chloe.” She  mumbled as she rubbed her sore knuckles. “I wasn’t quite myself.”

Chloe paused a moment before chuckling. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Belladonna looked back towards the pool.

“I can’t believe you figured out what they did to me, Sophie,” she said. 

“Well, I kind of figured something weird was going on after all these months, and once we spoke with your parents it pretty much completed the picture for us, more or less.” Sophie shrugged. Belladonna turned around once more.

“I couldn’t do anything to stop them. I didn’t even want to stop them. I didn’t like what they were doing to you, but I figured it couldn’t be bad if they were doing it. And then they started having you do stuff for them, stuff I usually did, and started to look like you were going to take my place in the group and I wanted to…” She hesitated. “Let’s just say you picked a good time to rescue me.”

Chloe cleared her throat. “So, they brainwashed you?” 

Belladonna lowered her head, embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“But you’re free now,” Sophie said. “And we have the coin. We can undo everything they’ve done.”

Belladonna looked up suddenly. “That’s right, the coin.” She glanced across the pool. “I was a little disoriented, but I think I accidentally pulled the hair trap out.”

Sophie and Chloe followed her gaze, and Sophie felt her stomach sink as she saw that the hair trap was, indeed, pulled from its usual spot in the hole.

“Shit,” said Chloe. “Is it gone forever? How are we going to help everyone else?”

“It’s even worse than that,” Sophie added, heartbroken. “My grandma told me the Well traps spirits in the area and steals their energy. I was supposed to release them. Now there’s no way to help them.”

“Your grandma knows about the Well?” Chloe asked.

“That’s right, I haven’t told you yet,” Sophie replied. “She knows a lot about my powers and the Well. She taught me clairvoyance.”

Belladonna scrunched her face, narrowing her eyes, but said nothing.

“So what happens to the Well without coins?” Chloe asked.

“Grams didn’t sound sure of everything, but I guess it’ll go into a dormant state and eventually appear somewhere else,” Sophie explained.

“Uh, this isn’t a ‘beat the final boss and the whole place collapses’ thing, is it?” Chloe asked nervously.

“Either way, we should probably think about heading back,” Belladonna interjected. “Before I freeze to death or die from embarrassment in these shitty clothes Heather made me wear.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Sophie said. Together they began to make their way to the ladder.

“Can’t wait to see the look on Heather M.’s face when I show up to school tomorrow,” Belladonna said as they walked. “I wonder what I should wear. Do you think she’d like it if—” She froze, eyes wide with terror.

Chloe and Sophie halted to look at her.

“Belladonna…” Sophie began.

“Shut up!” Belladonna snapped. “Shut up! I’m me, okay? I’m back to normal. What they did to me is gone. I’m just used to thinking about them first, so I need to retrain my mind a bit. That’s all that was, got it? So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Sophie hoped that was true. It sounded reasonable. Her thoughts had been forced down a particular path and now they were used to traveling it. With the distance of a little time, would that instinct vanish?

“Anyway, who wants to come to my place and help me dye my hair?” Belladonna asked in a suddenly cheerful tone. She tossed her wet hair behind her back with a level of mature grace Sophie had never seen from Heather K. “Black is much more my style.”

“Actually, I want to call my grandma and see if there’s anything else we can do about the Well,” Sophie as she started up the ladder. “And, Chloe and I have some catching up to do.”

Belladonna grinned slyly. “Oh yeah, the two of you just got back together. Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind joining in sometime, but I imagine right now the two of you will want to be alone.”

Sophie began to sputter, her face heating. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Belladonna cackled as she began to ascend the ladder. “It’s good to be me.”

Music continued to play into the night across town. Rough rock ballads and screeching guitar solos poured out into the night air alongside the golden light emanating from a small, second-story window of the beautiful black house surrounded by an immaculately kept rose garden. Bent over the guard of the bathtub, the former Heather, once more Belladonna, finished her last rinse of her hair. She smiled as black wisps of dye washed down the drain, working their way around discarded aluminum foil, the last of her former persona leaving with it.

It was poetic, she mused. Finally herself again, after all this time. She was still sour that she missed out on the folk festival with her parents — they hadn’t even asked if she was interested as far as her scattered memory revealed — but she couldn’t exactly blame them. Months had passed while she was under the influence of that bubblegum curse. So completely had she changed, so completely had every trace of her been wiped away from the face of the planet, it wasn’t a stretch for her parents to disengage, at least temporarily. She certainly wasn’t in any state to tell them what was wrong.

She admired herself in the mirror as her damp black tresses settled around her shoulders with a single neon green streak in front. Smudges of dye covered the shoulders of the designer top she still wore, ruining the garment. A thin smirk spread across her lips. She wasn’t sure if she’d burn or donate the clothes Heather M. had made her buy, the former would feel great and would make a great effigy… but she wasn’t Heather M. Other people needed the clothes, and she decided she didn’t truly care one way or the other how they were destroyed.

She was thankful that Heather K. had been so wrapped up in the others that she’d failed to throw out her last spare pair of black denim jeans stuffed beneath her bed. Ripe smelling as they were, a trip in the washing machine would resolve that issue while she returned her hair to it’s silky, raven-like glory. She sighed contentedly as she sprawled out on her bed.

Referring to her alternate state of mind in the third person was… weird. But that person wasn’t her. She remembered her time as Heather K., but it was like watching someone else play out their life with her face.

Her face beaming at the sight of Heather M.

Her face worried about what Heather M. thought of her.

Her face angry at the thought of someone insulting Heather M.

Now that was a memory that felt close. That vivid, unremorseful anger. How dare they? How dare Heather M. take her identity away. The memories became clearer as she focused. So many people suffered at her hands, and it seemed she’d never get what was coming to her.

Belladonna rose from her bed and sauntered over to the crumpled skirt she’d torn off and yanked it from the floor, digging her hand into one of the pockets. Her smile returned as she pulled her prize back into sight. A single, glittering, golden coin.

Like a shadow in the night, she flew down the stairs and marched off her porch towards her car. 

It was time for Heather McGill to taste her own medicine.