I must have suffered an irreversible head injury, because this cannot be real. It all began May 1437, the year the witch Mazipul was burnt alive. Folks say Mazipul was over a hundred years old; said that their parents, grandparents, and great grand parents knew of her as a little girl, or as a young adult. Mazipul never aged. She just disappeared when she got too close to people, and reappeared years later, same name, same face, just…well – younger. Five hundred years later, when the great Sir Emperor Nancis found our land, Constance, Mazipul re-emerged, this time, reeking havoc all throughout the land. The fact is, Constance was not “found” by the emperor, however, it was re-claimed, re-ruled, and re-governed every couple of centuries.

  The year is 2437, exactly 1000 years after Mazipul was burnt. I celebrated my 16th birthday on May 17th, and it was Mazipul-themed. Her legend remained because it is said that til’ this day, she still roams Constance, not yet to be seen nor heard. I had always been a fan of the legend, I don’t know why, maybe it is the suspense, the horror, the thrill of knowing I reside in a place where there is an immortal witch. So, I “Mazi-themed” my birthday party and invited all my friends and family over. It was not weird, because everyone knows Mazipul and believe it or not, some wish to meet her. I don’t know why, maybe for an autograph, or a spell to reverse old age, who knows?

  On May 18th, I fell ill. I woke up, strung with dizziness, a pounding headache, severely dehydrated, and a horrible tummy ache. Maybe it was the six slices of cake, three shots of vodka, and that questionable ‘Mazipul Mystery Punch’ my cousin made in a mop bucket, but whatever it was, it was bad, I just felt like dying. And I probably did, because I can’t remember.

  The next thing I remember is waking up on a wheel chair, 5 weeks later on June 3rd with my mom telling me I fell into a coma. What? How? Does alcohol do that to people? And if so, why does everyone still drink it? Apparently, the cause of the coma remained unknown, because the doctors said my brain was perfectly healthy – but I was not there. A religious person told my crazy Aunt Merlinda that it was because of my Mazipul-themed birthday. Psh! Can you believe that? “Your religious person is just as crazy as you Merlinda!” I thought.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Regaining my autonomy was a tough road, but on June 27th, I regained full body control and was able to walk, eat, speak, and do everything on my own again, not alcohol again though, ever! However, I started having nightmares, really bad ones. I dreamt of Mazipul looking at me in the coma at the hospital sometimes. Each time I woke up from these mares, I realized my body was changing. My hair grew longer, thicker, blacker. My nails started growing thick and sharp. My eyes, becoming, lighter? How can my eye colour change? Is it just my imagination, or my sick beauty obsession? Probably.

  On August 11th, I got up and did my regular morning routine, took my bath and made breakfast, because my parents are always away. My mom works the night shift at the hospital, so she gets home around 10am, and my dad, well, let’s say he’s hard to find sometimes. But something was different. I knew this because on my way to school, I received eyes; people staring at me like they finally caught me stealing their pup chow for my own pup. My best friend, Regina, was not in school that day so I was all alone. Before the start of 4th period, I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror and see if it was something wrong with my face, or maybe I soiled my clothes and I didn’t know. I went, and I checked. What I saw – was unbelievable. I stared into the mirror — and someone else stared back. My eyes were blue, my skin was pale, my lips were dark, my cheek bones and jawline so exquisitely defined, my hair long, and my body was thin. I murmured in repetition, “This is not my face! This is not my face!” It was a total transformation that apparently happened overnight. I hyperventilated and fell into a shock which made me unconscious, again, but this time, I did not fall into a coma; I regained consciousness immediately. Just when I regained consciousness, I saw my body laying on the floor, like how I saw it in my nightmares. I thought to myself, maybe this is another one. I tried entering my body but to no avail. I started crying, confused, sad, derailed, and ugly. I watched in horror as my body — the one I lived in, cried in, bled in — stood up. Without me in it! It was looking at itself in the mirror then suddenly its eyes shifted on mine. My mouth turned into a wide smile, I could somehow smell a rotten breath coming from inside, when my body pointed to me and said, “Thank you Joseline, for inviting me”. I witnessed my body walking out the bathroom door, when it shut suddenly, and I could not leave.

  I screamed, yelled, but no one could hear me! I realized that my body was taken over, my face worn by the century-old Mazipul, who will now own my youthful body until she is ready to move on to her next host in a couple of centuries. I was trapped — in tile, in silence, in a place no one would think to look. And she was out there, wearing me.