Jon rubbed his eyes as he sat up groggily. Another boring day, he thought to himself as he silenced his blaring alarm clock. That was when his eyes came into focus on the object sitting on the nightstand.
Jon's grogginess all but disappeared once he recognized the stone. Having access to all that power had seemed like a dream. It was a good thing he'd given it to Eric and Keith to test it. Wait... Jon remembered giving the stone to Eric and Keith yesterday, but here it was sitting on the table next to his bed. How did it get back to him? Had they wished it back here?
Jon reached for the rock, figuring a wish would obviously give him the answers. Unfortunately, he missed. Jon looked at his hand, then at the stone. Must be more tired than I thought, trying to shake the sleep from his head and reaching again for the stone. Again, his hand missed the stone by just a couple of inches. What was going on? Slowly, and concentrating very hard, Jon reached for the stone again. As he got closer to the stone, he felt something push his hand away. It was as though the stone and his hand were magnets repelling one another. No matter what he tried, he couldn't touch the stone, or even move it when he shook the table.
He was going to have to get to the bottom of this, and Eric and Keith were the last ones to see the stone. Unfortunately, it was a school day. It would have to wait. At least the stone won't be causing any problems, he thought as he threw on some clothes and headed downstairs for breakfast.
Jon was surprised when he got to the kitchen to find nobody there. Usually his parents were already up and ready for work by now, being the responsible adults of the family. Jon shrugged it off and grabbed a pop tart and poured himself a glass of orange juice. After a few bites he paused. He thought he smelled something... like perfume, something flowery and sweet. But it was strong. Way too girly for Zoe's tastes, and way stronger than anything his mother would wear.
Jon nearly choked on his toaster pastry when his father walked into the kitchen, definitely not dressed for work. The hem of a short pleated skirt bounced against his smooth hairless thighs as he pranced into the kitchen on black mary-janes. A silky white capsleeve blouse was tied above his navel, and a hint of pink lace poked out from the neckline. He wore a vapid smile on his face, which was generously made up with shimmery eyeshadow, blush, and pink lip gloss.
He sat next to Jon and crossed his legs, then adjusted his white thigh-high stockings. He giggled, then grinned dumbly at Jon.
"Morning!" he said cheerfully.
