You’re stripping off Heather’s skin for the second time on the same day, but for an entirely different reason. As backward as it may sound, you’ll wake her up.
Of course, you took some precautions, just in case. You dressed yourself (after patting yourself dry in her towel) and her in yesterday’s clothes; you also have Jimmy on standby with Julia (as the real Mrs. Wilson has already changed into Vanessa) in case you need their support.
You have the black pen, of course, but the one in your other hand is the one to test. Identical to the one on your other hand, this one is purple in color. Unlike the others, you know nothing about this one – the only thing Dennis knew about it was that “it could help on sticky situations” by “making people listen”.
The plan is simple. You’ll wake her up, convince her that it’s still Friday, and when she’s not looking, you’ll point the pen at her. If it doesn’t work, you’ll deflate her again and tell the results to Mrs. Wilson. If it does, you’ll most likely do the same – with the difference that you’ll wake her again shortly.
You click the black pen and see her reflate. It feels weird to see her stirring awake after wearing her for so long, unaware of that fact. She grunts and stretches, moaning. “What happened...?”
“You fainted on the shack,” you tell her.
“Where am I?”
“On your room.”
She scratches her eyes. “Why can’t I see?”
“You can’t?” You approach her, knowing the reason but feigning a lack of it. “You need me to call an ambulance or something?”
“Are you crazy?”, she shrills. “We can’t afford that!”
“Besides that, you feel anything else?”
She starts looking at you, her eyes finally accustoming to the light. “Why so many questions?”
“I’m worried. I mean – you faint all of a sudden, I had to call Jimmy to carry you here, and then you take an hour to wake up.”
“An hour!?” (She’s still in shock, it seems.) “God, it feels like an eternity.”
Well, you tell yourself, it’s more like a whole day.
“Did Jimmy finish cleaning up everything? Also, where’s my phone? I was trying to get everything ready for my study group, and now this...”
You switch pens, keeping the purple one hidden from sight. “I suppose, since I stayed here checking on you. By the way, I called your mom.”
“You what!?” Her eyes are now wide open, creeping red with blood as they fixate on you. “Now I have to tell them that she’ll be here!” She stands, checking her room. “Where’s my phone!?”
“Probably downstairs.” You see her attempt to dash outside, but you stop her. “Hey, hey! You just woke up – you're sure you’re alright?”
“Still groggy. Hey – make yourself useful and get me my phone!”
“Before that...” You produce the purple pen, placing it upright. “How many pens you see?”
She focuses on it, puzzled by your question as you move it around. “Uh... One? Why?”
“Just needed to make sure your eyesight’s all right.” You casually point the pen to her, distracting her with your words as you click on it. “Don’t want to have you fall the stairs, after all...”
Almost immediately, you notice the pen starts emitting a purple glow, and how Heather’s eyes steer towards it. Yours also do, and soon enough, you hear a droning sound that muffles everything else – all except a heartbeat.
This is like hypnosis, you reason as you proceed with the test. “Heather, if you’re listening, today’s not Friday. It’s Saturday. There’s no need to ask yourself what you did on Friday; you had your stupid study group, and your mom arrived today with your aunt. You just woke up--”
The droning sound ends, and you feel like a bubble burst. She looks at you, puzzled, then shakes her head. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
She shakes her head again, this time intensely. “Whatever. Aunt Nessa hasn’t left yet?”
--
For the second time in the day (and third time overall), you’re slipping into Heather. Mrs. Wilson is with you, already dressed in Vanessa’s clothes and with makeup. You’d have preferred for some privacy, but she dismisses it, claiming you can explain everything while changing. “Alright. What’s the process?”
“You gotta point it at their eyes,” you tell her. “Once everything disconnects and you hear their heartbeat, you tell them what to do – like when you’re hypnotizing someone.”
“I see...” She rubs her chin, deep in thought. “I guess it’ll work, even if it isn’t perfect.”
“For what we need it? More than enough. It has to be short, though.”
“Why?”
“I can’t say, but if you take your time, the... connection, I guess, pretty much breaks. Not sure if it’s a word limit or a time limit, but you need to make your orders short.”
“That’ll be a problem.”
“Unless you have a script or something.”
“What did you tell Heather?”
“That today’s Saturday, that she shouldn’t worry about Friday, and a couple things that happened during yesterday and today in case someone questions her.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. That must’ve taken you like... what? Six seconds? Ten?”
“I guess. Maybe when we do it with Bradley, we can time it.”
She takes a deep breath. “What’s important is that he doesn’t realize he’s being fooled.” She chews her lip, wincing. “I don’t like deceiving him, but it’ll be better if he doesn’t learn what Dennis did to him.”
You wait until you adjust Heather’s face on your own before responding. “Just remember, this is a test. If you feel you can’t handle it, just tell us you’ll return, but make a honest try.”
“I already did,” she tells you. “Not like it’ll be hard.”
As you finish up dressing – ignoring the brown pen as it’ll be only temporary – you step downstairs to meet Jimmy and Julia. Like before, Mrs. Wilson’s replacement looks identical in every detail but her listlessness. Still, that should be enough to fool Bradley, so you proceed with the plan.
You give some final instructions to Mrs. Wilson, who’s holding the purple pen. “Alright. Once I wake him up, Jimmy and I will distract him. You,” you say while pointing at Mrs. Wilson, “think very carefully what you’ll say and click the pen towards him when you’re sure that’s what you’ll say.”
“Alright.”
“And as for you,” you tell her replacement, “you won’t say anything about the pens or what happened.”
“Jimmy already told me.”
“Alright.” With a deep breath, you click Bradley. “It’s showtime.”
As usual, his skin reflates, and soon enough, he wakes up groggy and confused. “Ugh. What happened...?”
“Brad?” Mrs. Wilson approaches him, grasping his hand. “Oh, thank God you’re alright!”
“Vanessa?” (Even when they sound the same, it’s obvious who’s his priority.) “What are you doing here?”
“We’re not in Dennis’s house,” she tells him. “Listen - when I returned home and didn’t see you, I called Jules and we started looking for you.”
“You did?” Jimmy and Julia help him stand as he recovers from the grogginess. “But how did you find me?”
“We split. Jules looked somewhere, I looked someone else. And I figured Jules wouldn’t go to Dennis’s house, so I went there and found you.”
“I remember talking to him because he asked me if we could talk, and after a little drink--”
“Bradley!” Mrs. Wilson shrieks. “I know Dennis is your friend, but you know what the doctor said about abusing drinks! You know he’s a recovering alcoholic!”
“I know, I know! I even told him about that, but he asked if I could humor him and I did!”
“Well, at least you’re alright. When I found you there, knocked out, I immediately called Jules and we got you out of there.”
“What?” As he winces from the light pouring on his eyes, he finally notices everyone around him. “Jimmy? Heather?”
“Uncle Brad, Mom and Auntie Nessie came clear about everything.”
“And by everything,” you say as Mrs. Wilson draws the purple pen, “we mean knowing Dennis is our dad.”
“Oh, good Lord... Listen, children – I know this must be hard for you, but--”
“Brad, all we’re worried is knowing you’re alright.” You nod, and Jimmy draws his phone. “I need to see if you’re doing well. How many pens you see?”
He looks at the purple pen, then at yours. “Two, if you count the one on Heather’s hand?”
“Yeah, but one each? Focus on this one.” She moves it side to side, and you glance at Jimmy to avert his gaze. You hear the click, but no droning sound or heartbeats. Soon, you hear Mrs. Wilson’s orders. “Brad, honey? Today isn’t Tuesday, but Saturday. We’re visiting Jules and the kids. You’re gonna have a little memory loss; trust in everything I say about what you did those days.”
As she stops, you turn and notice Bradley’s puzzled expression, and how Mrs. Wilson isn’t very comfortable with it. He looks at you, shaking his head. “What happened?”
“Brad, we need to visit Emergencies. These fainting fits aren’t good!”
“Did I faint?” All three of you nod, and Julia follows. “This feels so familiar. Weren’t you telling me you found me in...” He pauses, grimacing. “Dennis’s house?”
“But honey, that was on Tuesday! You remember what day’s today, right?”
He looks around, checking for his phone. “Uh... Saturday. But it feels so... recent.”
“Must be the constant fainting fits.” Mrs. Wilson turns to her replacement, grabbing her hand. “I think we’ll have to cut this conversation short, Jules. This is really worrying me. I’ll take you to your car; wait for me there while I say goodbye to the kids.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Bradley kisses you, then shakes Jimmy’s hand, then finally touches Julia. “Sorry to make this visit so short.”
“It’s alright,” you tell him. “Hopefully next time Clara and Danny visit us.”
Minutes after she carries him outside, Mrs. Wilson returns. She’s bugged out, but as soon as the door closes, she’s relieved. “Alright. Time to give some final instructions to you boys...”
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