Stolen Years

I browsed through the photo album, flipping through pictures and videos of me and Paul. Except, at that time, I was Paul, and …she was, well, Sarah. You see, I had started dating Sarah at the time not because I wanted to be with her but because I wanted to be her.

So I cast a possession spell, leaving a duplicate of myself in my old body, and that was it.

I remember my first moments as Sarah.

The sensation was overwhelming. I felt the softness of her skin, the weight of her long hair cascading down my back. I giggled with delight, running my hands over my new curves. My center of gravity had shifted –I had her breasts! I caught a glimpse of myself—of Sarah—in the mirror, and my breath caught in my throat. 

It worked. I was her.

And I was going to be her for the rest of my life. And with my boyfriend, Paul, by my side.

I closed the photo album, my fingers lingering on its leather cover. Those memories felt like a lifetime ago, yet also like yesterday. I stood up, smoothing down my skirt, and walked to the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

The woman who gazed back at me was undeniably Sarah, but with subtle changes. My hair was a shade lighter now, sun-kissed from afternoons in the garden. Tiny laugh lines had appeared at the corners of my eyes. I was Sarah, but Sarah as she'd grown and changed over the years.

I stood up, smoothing down my sundress, and walked to the kitchen where Paul was making dinner. The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air as I wrapped my arms around him from behind.

"Hey beautiful," he said, turning to kiss me.

I melted into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around my soft body. This was everything I had ever wanted. I actually didn’t mind having sex as a woman. After all, I was quite familiar with my boyfriend’s body.

Later that night, as Paul slept peacefully beside me, I tossed and turned. When I finally drifted off, Sarah was there waiting for me, as always.

In my dream, we stood face to face - mirror images of each other. But while I wore Sarah's body like a perfectly tailored suit, her form was translucent, shimmering at the edges.

"Please," she begged, her voice a ghostly whisper, "Please, let me go. Let me be free."

Sarah's ethereal fingers reached for me, passing through my arm like mist, "This isn't right. This isn't natural. You've trapped me here, in this in-between place."

Guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it down, "I'm sorry, Sarah. But this is my life now."

Her image flickered, like a candle in the wind. "You don't understand. Every day, I feel myself fading. Soon, there won't be anything left of me."

"I can't," I whispered. "This is who I am now. This is who I've always been meant to be."