The curse

 

There is a house at the end of the block that has always looked out of place for me. No one lives there, but it looks clean and neat. One day, just for fun, I decided to break in.

The door was not even locked. I entered, and closed the door behind me. The house looked like a snapshot of 1960’s. 

I inspected the living room, and the kitchen. It seemed oddly familiar. Everything was organized in a way that made sense. 

I entered the master bedroom. An untouched by time dress laid on the king size bedroom. I saw a frame with a picture of a woman. She was quite beautiful, and again her face looked familiar.

I then felt something grabbed my leg. I jumped. But there was nothing there. “Must be my mind playing tricks on me” I said. As I was about to exit the room, I caught a glimpse of my reflection on a mirror. My reflection seemed weird, I mean, it was of the man I am, but he looked like a stranger to me. 

Suddenly I felt the same invisible hand grab my leg, and then my other leg, as I was about to scream, something covered my mouth, I passed out.

When I came back to my senses, I was sitting down in the house living room. I was wearing the dress that used to be over the bed. My body felt different. I stood up, feeling my balance off. I walked towards the master bedroom almost falling because of the heels I was wearing. I expected to find my clothes, my man clothes, but there was nothing there. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked like the woman in the picture. No, I didn’t just look like her, I was her, breasts and all. “What the f!” I said as I adjusted my cleavage. 

I looked back at the night table where the picture of her was. But instead was a picture of myself, my former male self screaming. I don’t know why, but I took the picture out of the frame, and ripped it apart. “He is gone, I am no longer him” I said with a big smile on my face.

Later that day, my husband showed up. I kissed him, and I started my life as a 1960’s house wife.