Waking up as George Shelley [[COMING SOON]]

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Her name is Georgette, but everyone has since she was three called her George. She's short and petite and is constalty called 'the midget' in her family because of her height. She's seventeen and lives in London, England. Every day she catches the train from her house to her high-school and from her high-school to her house. Except, one day.. she dosen't. She's always heard stories about her great, great grandmother of which she's named after.

And so one day she decides to visit her. She gets off the tube a couple of steps before the one that leads to her home and walks to her great-great grandmother's final resting place. It takes her an hour, but she dosen't mind. She walks past cottages and old-run down buildings until she's finally there. It wasn't, of course, what she expected but then again most things hardly are. So she sits a couple of meters away from her grandmothers grave, her eyes serious and somber and twirls the lone flower that she brought for the old women in her hands, idly.

She's not quite sure what to do next. Should she say something? What does she even know about this woman, anyway, apart from their shared name? She sits and she wonders what her great-great grandmother was like. Did she have trouble talking to boys as well? Did she want so desperately to get out of where she was? Georgette thought she might now, being in the grave and all. But really, what was this old women's story? How had she died? She peers closer, her eyes examining the weathered description on the grave. Georgette Anne Shambles. Then, underneath it is the date she was born to the date she died, except Georgette can't read what it says. She smiles, looking at the surroundings around her and realizes that she's never seen anything more beautiful.

 The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and so far, not a single car has passed her by. She leaves, eventually, but with regret because she knows that she's going to miss this little safe haven as soon as her feet leave it's soil. And she does. The days after her unexpected visit, Georgette can't get Georgette Anne Shambles off her mind. She needs to know more about this women who shares her name.  She needs to learn her story. So she does. Georgette pesters her family for stories of her great-great grandmother, eager and keen. And eventually, somehow, a book ends up in her care. Her great-great grandmother's book. It's a diary and it contains such a compelling story that Georgette, who has never been much of a reader, finishes it in a week.

One Thursday morning, when she's flipping through the pages, talking to a friend on the phone she stops. Something inside her stops and then starts again, as if the wheels inside her brain have found a fault made by the mechanic. Because, there she see's before her, a page that she's never read before, a page that had been stuck to another, in which she had mistaken for one but where actually two. So she reads this page and what she finds both excites and scares her. Because, before her, on that very old and worn out page.. is a spell. A body-switching spell. 

So, being Georgette Jane Shambles and not Georgette Anne Shambles, who never did the spell and was too scared to. She does what her great-great grandmother never accomplished. She pretends to be sick on that Thursday, and her parents, as expected hover for a bit. They're good, concerned parents. But she waves them off and tells them that she's going to spend the day in bed, reading and sleeping. And as soon as they're goon she jumps out of bed, pulls on her boots and collects the ingredients for the spell. First she needs some herbs and candles, which aren't that hard to come by. She then buys a stick of sandalwood and a white feather, laughing to herself because she dosen't think that this ridiculous spell will actually work. And then, finally, there's one ingredient left. She needs to find a person to 'switch' into, because this is a body-switching spell.

She frowns, because she rather likes being herself. But hey, this spell isn't actually going to work so she just grabs a copy of People from a nearby magazine shop and flips through it, bored. And then she sees her name. Well, to be fair, it's not hers but rather his. But the facts don't matter because this person, whomever they are, catches her attention. His face is somewhat familiar although she's not quite sure from what. Well, she says to herself, If I'm going to change into anyone - I might as well change into a boy... I've always been curious to see what that's like. So she walks home, magazine in one hand and the ingredients in the other, feeling light and happy. This is going to be an awesome story, she thinks, one that that she might end up telling her grand-kids. The one time she did a spell. They'll laugh and chide their grandmother for believing in something so foolish, and she'll grin along, showing her gums.

So she goes home and and she makes her altar, placing her ingredients in the places in which they are supposed to go. And then she cuts his picture out of the magazine and places it before her, chanting her spell. And then... all goes black.

And when she wakes up, she's in the body of George Shelley.

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