Chapter 2: Refusal and Revolt

"Pastor!"

The arrival of a pastor in a black suit and Roman collar made everyone breathe easier.

He was the spiritual leader my family had hired—at no small cost—to buy me more time, a man rumored to deal in both prayer and the occult. The body-swap ritual was his twisted brainchild.

He looked every bit the part: black suit, crisp white collar, a silver cross hanging from his neck, and a face lined by secrets and late-night confessions. He clutched a battered Bible, eyes cold and shrewd. Around town, folks whispered he’d stared down the devil and didn’t blink.

"Pastor, please, there’s no time! Start the ritual before this fool ruins my daughter’s body." Dad’s voice was tight, desperate. I’d never seen him bow to anyone—not even at church. But now, with my life on the line, he’d do anything. The pastor just glanced at Lauren, tied up and trembling, his tone flat.

Dad’s voice was strangled, his pride swallowed. The pastor’s mouth twitched in a dry, humorless smile.

The pastor nodded, mysterious as ever, and started his ritual on Lauren without delay.

He muttered words that twisted the air, drawing chalk symbols on the hardwood floor—crosses, circles, strange sigils. The family watched, breathless, hope and dread flickering in their eyes.

Suddenly, dizziness swept over me. I grabbed my forehead, and when I opened my eyes, weird floating comments blinked into existence, like Twitch chat gone supernatural.

It was like a fever dream—reality flickered, and suddenly I saw words scrolling through the air, as if my brain had turned into a social media feed full of strangers’ opinions. My heart thundered, palms slick with sweat.

[Here’s the key plot: The sidekick girl’s got a rare, crazy gift, but nobody notices.]

[Heck yeah! If the swap works, the main girl’s joining the secret society for her comeback!]

[Come on, sis, swap already! Once you’re in, you can finally get your revenge!]

...

The comments scrolled by, each one stinging like a mosquito bite.

They said I’d ruin lives—including my own—and that after the swap, I’d lose my rare gift, letting Lauren scoop up the pieces.

They said she’d light up the society with my sick body, turning into a genius everyone would worship.

They also said I’d be cursed, my family wrecked, dying a miserable death...

I realized these were prophecies—spoilers for my future.

The words burrowed under my skin, a chorus of strangers rooting for me to fail. My pulse pounded in my ears, anger and fear swirling together.

So I spoke up.

"Wait!" My cry cut through the pastor’s chant. He shot me a scowl, clearly ticked.

"Don’t interrupt! This has to be perfect! One mistake and it’s ruined."

[Ugh, what’s the sidekick doing now? I was waiting for the main girl to show them up!]

"I’m not switching!" That’s right, I’m not switching. If I have this rare gift, why give it away for nothing?

I could feel the shock ripple through the room, like someone had dropped a glass. My voice rang out, stronger than I thought possible for someone as sick as me.

"Ivy!" Mom gasped, stunned. She couldn’t figure out what I was up to.

"Don’t make trouble. Pastor, my daughter’s just upset. Please, just start the ritual and swap them." Dad sounded like he thought I was going soft, unwilling to hurt Lauren.

"Dad, I won’t do it! Why should I take on someone so beneath me? I’d rather die than swap with her!" I clutched my chest and coughed up blood, the taste metallic and hot on my tongue. Blood dripped onto my sleeve. My knees nearly gave out, but I forced myself to stand tall, refusing to show weakness. The family gasped—someone dropped a mug, shattering the silence.

[Wait, what? She’s refusing? Without the rare gift, how’s the main girl supposed to rise up?]

[This sidekick is so cruel—she’s driving me nuts.]

[Seriously, can’t she just cough up blood and be done already? So annoying.]

...

My refusal made the pop-up comments explode with curses and snarky memes.

The air felt charged, like right before a tornado. The comments stung, but I set my jaw and glared at the invisible feed.

"Ivy, you’re breaking my heart!" Mom started to cry, mascara running down her cheeks, shoulders shaking. She clung to me, as if she could squeeze obedience out of me.

"Enough!" Dad snapped, but he couldn’t say more. He turned away, jaw tight, the weight of our future pressing down on him like a lead blanket.