Copycat

Prose

26 Oct

JASMINE A. FARAH

Content Warning: Descriptions of body horror

Avery couldn’t resist the quick flick of her finger, smoothing the frown line between her eyebrows; a new, polished layer of skin knitting itself in place of where it had been a second ago. Many others would kill to do what she could. She would have, too, three short months ago.

Avery had determined that there was no harm in smoothing her frown lines. It was something that had bothered her ever since observing her classmate, Summer Brien’s flawless skin. Summer Brien looked like one of the models in the magazines Avery’s mother would read at the dinner table. Avery thought this was remarkably unfair. Three months ago, the thought of Summer’s superior features would have caused a tizzy of self-loathing and envy, but now, Avery had the power to better herself, to improve.

When Avery sat at her desk that school morning, her gaze was not locked on the boys scribbling on the whiteboard or the girls sitting in the back roaring with laughter. No, instead her full attention was focused on Summer Brien’s fingernails. It was a detail she hadn’t noticed until that morning, when Cynthia had asked Summer if they were acrylics. Of course, Summer had smiled and contradicted this, showing Cynthia the superb almond shape.

From that moment, Avery was already planning what she would do to her own stubby fingernails. She spent the first period analysing every detail of Summer’s nails, clacking away at her keyboard, filing the image in her mind so that she could replicate it exactly. She could hardly wait until she got home, almost making the improvement while she was walking, but she had restrained her power until she was safely in the confines of her bedroom.

Avery’s satisfaction with her new nails only lasted until lunch, when she caught her reflection on her spoon. An alien version of her, bug-eyed and wavy-headed, stared back. Despite the distortion, the halo of frizz crowning her hair was apparent. That just wouldn’t do, she thought, mulling over Summer’s glossy, long curls. This time, the urge to improve herself couldn’t wait until she was home.

She glanced around eagerly on her walk home to determine that there was no one on the street. Her power thrummed through her like a live wire. Smoothing her hands down her hair, she grimaced as she ripped out old chunks. New, shiny strands coiled softly over her shoulders, identical to Summer’s. The image of her as a child, screaming as her mother yanked a brush through her knotted hair and impatiently hushed her cries, flashed across her mind.

Avery was noticed by her classmates at school the next day.

‘Whoa, Avery, did you get your hair done?’ A round-faced girl named Melanie asked.

‘It looks really great!’ Melanie’s friend, Charlotte, added.

Avery attempted a shy smile, soaking up the compliments like a withered flower in the sun.

Summer came over to the gathering, observing the outbreak. Avery felt electric. ‘Wow, Avery, we’re twinning,’ Summer remarked in her airy voice, giving the girls a beam.

And just like a spotlight had been shone on her, the attention snapped wholly back to Summer. The girls gushed over Summer’s lipstick shade, commenting on how pretty it was. Who cares about a lipstick shade, Avery thought. Of course, a thin-lipped girl like herself could never hold the spotlight next to a girl like Summer. A violent flash of anger crawled up from deep in her gut as her mother’s voice sang in her head: “Beauty is power.”

During the lunch break, Avery snuck off to a stall in the bathroom. She didn’t notice her hands shaking; the low rumble of anger still festering deep inside, even as she felt the delicious sweep of power as she ran her hands over her lips. The discomfort was only temporary. Her skin split as they stretched and swelled, transforming into replicas of Summer’s. She exited the bathroom with a new confidence, the aftereffects of her power still flowing through her. Turning sharply on her heel, a voice called out to her.

‘Summ— Oh. Avery?’ Cynthia stood a metre away, an expression of confusion across her face. ‘Wow, sorry, you just look a lot like Summer right now.’ She paused for a beat, seemingly mulling over her next question. ‘Uhm, I have to ask, did you get lip filler?’

Avery felt her face heat. ‘No, of course not!’ she said too vehemently. She felt her power jump. It seemed to whisper a warning: no one must know.

‘Well, it just really looks like… I mean your lips look really diff—’

‘Shut up, Cynthia!’ Avery snapped. She felt her cheeks continue to redden, more now from anger than embarrassment. The low rumble in her gut had become a volcano, and it suddenly erupted her words out of her throat. ‘Just because I look hotter now doesn’t mean I got filler! Are you worried you have competition now? Everyone knows Summer’s prettier than you with your massive acne-ridden forehead!’

Cynthia stood shocked for a beat before her eyes filled with tears that she desperately tried to blink back. Avery almost felt bad for her, in a pathetic sort of way. ‘You are such a bitch,’ Cynthia hissed as she wiped away an escaped tear before brushing past Avery into the bathroom.

When Avery returned to class for her next period, Cynthia was huddled around Summer’s desk along with Melanie and Charlotte. Once more, her anger inched up her stomach as their accusatory eyes snapped to her, following her to her desk. What did they think they were looking at? Cynthia had needed to hear what she had said. It was the truth. Their hushed conversation was loud enough for Avery to catch some of their words.

‘It was so mean,' Cynthia was saying. 'She’s showing her true colours. Clearly, she’s trying to copy you, Summer.’

‘The hair I could get past, but the lips… It’s kind of creepy,’ Summer added while they nodded in agreement.

Avery felt the power swirl with rage in her gut as it began to rumble. She fixed the image of Cynthia’s stupid face swelling up to calm herself down and felt her lips break into a small smile at the gruesome picture.

When the final bell rang, she tried to make an unnoticed escape out of the classroom, but stopped short in the hallway when Cynthia and Summer exited the girls’ bathroom. Avery felt a sweep of hate flow through her as Cynthia cackled obnoxiously at something Summer had said. They halted in their tracks when they spotted her.

‘Ew, Summer, the copycat’s here.’ Cynthia’s smug face turned to Avery. She felt her blood begin to boil. 'Oh my god, she’s looking at us!' The girls broke into a fit of giggles.

Summer’s laugh sounded extra sharp to Avery’s ears. A pulsing sensation rippled through her skin as she focused on Cynthia’s ugly face. Her power seized her, charging through her veins. Summer’s smile faded into a look of horror as Cynthia’s forehead swelled one, two, three times its usual size. Her skin stretched taut like a balloon being inflated, her veins becoming more visible as the skin was pulled thinner. Red and inflamed pustules popped up, coating its expanse and throbbing angrily. Cynthia stopped laughing from the sudden pain rippling through her head. Catching Summer’s look, then her reflection in the classroom window, she screamed. She hurled down the hallway, covering her head. Summer sprinted after her, not sparing Avery a second glance. The aftereffects of her power coursed through her veins, and she couldn’t help but feel giddy with what she had done.

Cynthia wasn’t at school the next day. Summer was, nevertheless, and she had a newfound abhorrence for Avery. Rumours had spread that Avery had hurt Cynthia, spurred by Summer’s disdain. Classmates traded scoffs and glances bounced around the halls when she walked by. Behind every contemptuous look and comment was Summer, the conductor, orchestrating this vicious teenage symphony.

Summer wore her facade of innocence very well, subtly masking her conniving influence. Summer clearly thought her plan to ostracise Avery was working, but every remark, every stare, fuelled Avery like kindling. She had to play it off until the time was right. She needed Summer’s guard down, but her power was restless, jumping through her veins like sparks.

Summer’s critical mistake was heading to the bathroom alone. Two weeks had passed since Cynthia had gone. Two weeks of exclusion. It wasn’t fair for someone like Summer, who had everything, to have all the fun. An entourage trailed Summer everywhere, and Avery guessed that Summer had probably never once felt the icy hug of isolation. It had been hard not to rip Summer’s hair out every time she made a snide comment, but she reminded herself that her time for fun was coming.

Avery pushed open the bathroom door, letting it swish shut behind her. Summer was standing at the sink, and her eyes met Avery’s through the mirror. A flash of fear passed over them as Avery stepped closer. ‘Hi, Summer.’ Avery’s lips cracked into a sly smile. Summer’s hands gripped the counter.

‘I know you did that thing to Cynthia. I know that somehow you controlled that. I know that you have been copying me.’ Her eyes glanced at Avery's hands nervously.

‘Yeah, I did do that to Cynthia, but she deserved it. As for you, you don’t deserve anything you have.’ Avery raised her hands and seized Summer's face. Summer let out a shriek and tried to leap towards the door, but Avery’s clutch was too strong. Her power surged forward, a tsunami crashing over Summer. Avery’s features transfigured: her bones snapped, shifting and lengthening. Her skin ripped and reknit itself, smoothing over new muscle and skeleton. Her mouth was sprawled open in a silent scream until the agony was replaced by the indulgent wash of power. Summer shared her look of pain as her body also morphed, bones snapping and ripping through skin, face melting before mutating into something new.

Avery stared into the mirror over Summer’s shoulder; a rush of euphoria rippled through her. Her face was replaced with Summer’s likeness, and Summer’s was now replaced with Avery’s old face. They had successfully switched. The power inside purred in approval. Beauty is power, she thought.

Avery let go, and Summer whipped around to the mirror, letting out a screech. She pawed at her face desperately. ‘What have you done to me?’ Her voice came out as Avery’s, slightly more baritone and raspy than Summer’s had been.

‘Now you can enjoy all of the hate you’ve created for me.’ A saccharine smile played across Avery’s lips. ‘No one would ever believe you if you told them what happened.’

The low murmur of voices getting closer signalled a group of girls walking towards the bathroom. Summer didn’t seem to hear them, too wrapped up in her horror. ‘Change it back!’ She screamed and lunged at Avery. Her nails made harsh contact with Avery’s new, plush cheeks, sinking into flesh and clawing down them.

‘Help! Help!’ Avery called, pain burning down the side of her face. This was all going better than she could have imagined. The door banged open as three older girls rushed in. ‘This freak is attacking me!’ Avery exclaimed, excitement coursing through her.

‘No! No! I’m not—’ Summer was yanked off.

‘What the hell is going on?’ one of the girls yelled at Summer.

Summer’s expression fell at the looks of bewilderment and scorn on their faces. Avery revelled in her expression: her look of panic as her situation fully sank in. Summer flew around, pushed past the girls, and darted out the door, disappearing into the hallway.

‘Are you okay?’ one of the girls asked her, concern stretched across her face. ‘You’re Summer Brien, right?’

Avery schooled her new features into a modest smile. She felt a bead of blood trickle down her face. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’