Ally was a modest girl. She knew the stereotypes about Catholic school girls, and there were a few girls at her school who were like that, but Ally was nothing like those girls. She didn't wear the kind of revealing clothing most girls her age liked to wear. Even the skirt of her school uniform was a little too short to her, which was the reason she always paired it with solid black or white tights. Outside school, she typically dressed either in slacks or a skirt that went at least to her knees, and she never wore the trashy tank tops that many girls seemed to love. Ally thought she was an attractive enough girl, so it wasn't out of embarassment that she dressed the way she did; she just didn't believe that God meant for girls to dress like prostitutes.
So she was horrified by the outfit she was wearing. A skirt that ended several inches above her knees, a sleeveless top that stopped at the bottom of her ribs... it was terrible. Good girls didn't show off their midriffs and legs and shoulders. She knew that this was the cheerleading uniform from the town's public high school, but she couldn't understand why the school had picked such scandalous uniforms for their cheerleaders. Of course, Ally wasn't even sure she approved of the whole concept of cheerleading; she wasn't sure what the point was, besides providing titilation for the boys, something Ally didn't approve of in an educational setting. Youth culture was obsessed enough with sex as it was.
She wanted to get home. She didn't know what was happening, but she thought, perhaps, that her parents might be able to help her figure it out. Ally was smart, but her parents were smart, too, and they were much more experienced with life than she was. Perhaps between them they could make some sense of what was happening to her.
Ally wasn't sure she should take the car that was sitting in the driveway; it felt like stealing to her. But the blonde girl had said the car was Ally's, hadn't she? And Ally wasn't sure where she was, much less how far she was from home. She was going to need transportation. So she got in the car, started the engine, and drove off.
As she drove, she found herself staring at every opportunity at her reflection in the car's mirrors. The girl who looked back was a stranger. The girl had curly blonde hair rather than Ally's neat, straight, auburn hair; she had grey eyes insead of Ally's green eyes; she seemed a bit taller than Ally, and her skin was a little paler. Her facial features were totally different. Ally and the girl in the mirror had nothing in common with each other. But, then, it seemed to match up with everything else about the last few minutes: the clothing that wasn't hers, the car that wasn't hers, the blonde girl who Ally hadn't recognized but who had seemed to recognize her. She was living another girl's life... and that was absolutely crazy.
There were people in town who practiced magic... or who believed they practiced magic, anyway. Ally had seen them: the scary kids from the public school who dressed all in black. They were witches and devil worshippers, or so the rumors went; Ally had no reason to doubt it. And they all believed in magic. They hung out at some kind of magic shop downtown after school; the place gave Ally the creeps, and she always sped up when she walked past it. But Ally knew that magic wasn't real; believing in magic was blasphemy, and practicing it was sin. Still, Ally didn't know how else to explain what was happening to her.
She was beginning to get her bearings. She was still in her hometown, at least; and, though she was on the far side of town from her own house, she recognized the street names around her. After a little bit of weaving through pleasant, forested streets, Ally found her way to Jefferson Street, a major road with ran all the way through down. From here she wouldn't have any trouble finding her house.
There seemed to be a restlessness stirring around the town. There were more people out on the sidewalks than she usually saw, and a few of the drivers in the roads were driving very erratically. She passed three traffic accidents in the space of ten minutes, though the day was bright and sunny... not the sort of weather that made for difficult driving. And, outside a small white church close to downtown, she saw a number of people crowded around, their eyes on a woman with raised arms who appeared to be adressing them. Ally slowed, then pulled into the parking lot of the church and parked the car. This was a Baptist church, not a Catholic church, but it was still a church; and if there was one place Ally could look to find answers, it was in a house of God.
"Children," the woman said as Ally neared the crowd. "Our town has been cursed by God, in retaliation for the sins of our times. Homosexuality. Abortion. Crossdressing. Sex. Violence. Feminism. Liberalism. The wanton embrace of other cultures and other creeds. These are are the illnesses of our times. They are abominations; they are blots on our souls and affronts to our lord, and we have fallen far short of his favor. And so God has struck us with a terrible curse. He has stripped us of our very identities, as a reminder that these identities of ours are selfish, godless, and vain. He has rearranged our identities, lifting us one by one from our sinful lives and dropping us into the lives of our neighbors. Yesterday we would have thought something like his impossible; but nothing is beyond the power of our God."
Ally studied the woman who was speaking. She was a young woman, perhaps twenty or so, and she was dressed in an ankle-length skirt and a modest blouse. She spoke loudly and passionately, with a force that almost seemed to explode from her small body. Her words were hypnotic, and Ally found herself agreeing with everything the woman said. Ally found comfort in the woman's words... not just in the spiritual truths she was speaking, but in the fact that apparently Ally was not alone in what was happening to her; from the woman's speech it sounded like people all over town were switching lives with each other. And Ally knew that the woman was right; this must have been a curse from God for the many grave sins of modern society, the sins that Ally despised in other people. Her town was not alone in its sins; it was no guiltier than any town in America, and certainly it was not as corrupt as cities like Las Vegas, San Francisco, and countless cities in Europe and in the non-Christian world, where sin ran rampant. Perhaps God had chosen Ally's town as an example, though, or perhaps the curse that had struck Ally, that was striking her town, was also striking people all over the globe.
"This morning," the woman went on, "I was visisted by an angel of God. It came to me in the form of a young woman. The angel told me she saw me as I truly was, not as the Oriental girl you see before you but as Jacob Foster, a family man, a man of God, and the preacher who has led a number of you among us today into Christ's open arms. The angel told me everything I have told you here today, and then she vanished in a cloud of flame. Children, before I spoke to my angel visited me, I tell you I was lost. I understood why God would curse the sinners in town, but I couldn't understand why he would curse me, too. But when the angel spoke to me, I understood: God had chosen me to be his prophet, to bring his message to all of you."
As Ally listened to the woman's words, she suddenly saw a familiar face on the other side of the crowd. It was Angie Rodriguez, another girl at Ally's school. Glad to see a familiar face, Ally skirted around the crowd to her friend. Ally was a little reluctant to talk to Angie; Angie was even more conservative than Ally was, and Ally ws certain that Angie would not approve of her provocative outfit. Angie, who had often told Ally that she intended to be a nun once she old enough to join a convent, had sometimes chided Ally on outfits that even Ally felt were acceptable. Even now Angie was dressed in a long denim skirt and a long-sleeved, high-necked blouse, despite the warm weaher, and her hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Ally and Angie were were considered pretty uptight by their fellow students, but they didn't understand; Ally and Angie, like a handful of other students at their school--true believers, Ally had always thought of them--believed that God expected a certain level of behavior from humanity. And now that God had struck them with this terrible curse, how could those students argue otherwise?
"Angie," Ally said as she got close to her friend.
Angie turned to Ally. "Do I know you?" she said.
"It's me," Ally said, touching Angie's arm. "It's Ally."
Angie blinked dazedly. "...Ally?"
"Angie," Ally said, "are you okay?"
Angie shook her head. "My
"Are you okay, Angie?"
Angie shook her head. "My name's not Angie," she said. "It's Athena."
