*"I wish the person who I bully the most would bully me," Melissa read off the note. "What a weird note," she said, crumpling it up and tossing it on the floor. People like Melissa didn't care about littering. They felt like they were too important to be concerned with it.
As she opened her locker door, she suddenly felt dizzy.*
It happened with a painful slowness, as if the magic knew this was a punishment. After all, someone who didn't bully anyone in a serious manner would get off with little disruption to their life.
Images flashed through her head, of the past. A child in Europe...the stone's power and thus the wish notes' power may have extended a short distance, but it could change reality, and with it, history within its borders, even if that history occurred elsewhere.
Old black and white photographs flashed through Melissa's mind, of an old album she'd found in her mother's room, one that had belonged to her mother's mother. Her grandmother had died giving birth to her mother...or had she? Her grandfather had remarried. In a whirlwind of clarity, Melissa could see a strange older woman living with them.
Then the dizziness returned, and she found herself leaning against her locker, unsure of what she'd just seen. She looked down at herself. Her tight jeans and even tighter top were gone.
She was wearing loose fitting clothing. A dress that went down well below her knees and a blouse. She checked the bag she was holding. It seemed to belong to a different person.
"Hi," a voice said. It was Gladys Brewer. Melissa had referred to Gladys as Piggy. It was one of the nicer names she'd called the girl. Gladys barely spoke to her, and normally seemed afraid of her. She'd teased her for years, but...something occured to her. She wasn't the one she'd bullied the most lately, Melissa thought, remembering the note she'd discarded.
Gladys actually seemed to be expecting a response. "Hi," Melissa said back. Her voice came out differently to her ears.
"You'd better get your stuff quick," Gladys said. "I saw her coming this way. You know it is better to avoid her."
"Who?"
Gladys turned her gently and pointed down the hall. Melissa stared. The girl she saw had long black hair drawn back into a ponytail, tight-fitting jeans...It was Yukio Meshida...a very sexy and slutty looking Yukio. She looked awkward, nervous, and very self-conscious...until she locked eyes with Melissa. Then, suddenly, like a light switch flipping, her entire demeanor changed.
Yukio strode toward her to her locker, confident, sexy, and intimidating. "You're blocking my locker," she told Melissa in pure accentless English.
Melissa's jaw practically dropped. Yukio had only lived in town for a little over a year, and spoke with an accent. Now she was speaking like a native.
Yukio stared down at her. "Do...you...speak...English?" She asked, as if Melissa was not only mute, but deathly stupid.
"Yes, but...what, how did you?" Her shock grew greater as she heard her own voice. She'd lived here her entire life. How did she sound like some foreigner?
"Sheesh...look...if you're going to live here, learn the language. And get some decent clothes," Yukio said, pushing Melissa away from her locker and grabbing something before heading off.
Melissa stood there, confused, disoriented, and feeling like she was going to cry. It was a complete inverse of her first meeting with Yukio...except in reverse. She felt like she was going to cry, exactly as Yukio had felt...but not because of the insults. She didn't quite understand that yet. It was the strange bizarro world she'd been tossed into. It had the same effect though.
