Cured

• Piya Mohal
• Short Story
• 2021

I knew when I woke up this morning everything would be different. Every. Single. Thing. The bright shiny sun rose above the grassy horizon. It’s magical rays pierced through my curtains softly woke me up. My noisy yawn echoed throughout my blue bedroom. Two hazel eyes opened wide and anticipated what was going to happen quite soon. I stood up carefully on my tiptoes, eyeing my ordinary surroundings. Same old boring bouncy bed. Same old colourful couch. Same old everything. Except for what would happen in 36 minutes. At 12pm every end of month I turned into a creepy werewolf. I couldn’t control it and no matter how many experienced doctors I visit they would laugh and say “Oh what a jolly good prank!” This time, I would find a cure; a cure that would save me from this burden.

I sat down, hopeful at the local cafe that I would find my cure. “Hi there could I please have one large hot chocolate and a medium bagel and cream cheese with a scrambled egg - small - on the side? Thanks” I payed the kind cashier whose seemed to understand I was having a bad day. Suddenly I felt something sharp sprout out where my index finger was once. I winced. ‘Oh no’ I thought. I was in a cafe right now and lost track of time. People would get hurt if I transformed right now. Luckily my order was done and I hastily grabbed the food and accidentally spilled some of my drink all down my new dress. But that wasn’t important right now. I hopped into my blue car and speedily drove back home. I popped all my food into the microwave and dropped dead onto my bed. I think I found the cure.

One of my legs had become brown and hairy, I knew how to get the cure I just didn’t know if I had enough time. Not a second to lose I ran outside and pulled on two long socks and trackies - enough to hide the transformation. When I was in the cafe the old lady’s name was Amethyst - a strange and healing flower thats juice would solve your problems. I had found some the other day and walked past it forgetting that I had a problem that needed fixing. I hiked up the tall hill and stumbled on a rock. I rolled sideways and there it was. It almost had a purple shine to it. It stood glorious, showing off all its petals and lovely looks to all the by-passers. I quickly grabbed dozens and dozens and dozens and squeezed them out into my small but wide jar. My second arm had sprouted too now, I had to hurry.

I finally squeezed the last drop of it into my jar and took the smallest sip possible. Suddenly my arms and legs collapsed under my and I shrieked in pain. It was like surgery without any anaesthetic to calm you down. I dropped on the lush field and woke to be in my room again. The juice had solved that problem as well. I jumped in joy that I had found a cure only fall down for my legs were still weak.