Posted 08-04-26

To the Mana Born: The Life of Donna

By Christopher Leeson

Chapter 1 — When the Screaming Stopped

Langdon woke with a violent jolt, heart hammering, breath ragged. The scream echoing in his ears was his own. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Then the familiar shadows of his bedroom came into focus — the posters, the clutter, the half‑open closet door.
Something felt wrong.

He touched himself, and couldn't believe what he was feeling.

Footsteps hurried down the hallway. Elisa’s voice, soft and cautious, came through the door.
“Langdon?”

“Don’t come in!” he shouted.

The sound of his own voice stopped him cold. It was thin. Higher. Wrong.

“Langdon, I’m opening the door.”

“Don’t.”

The knob turned anyway.

Elisa stood framed in the doorway, pale and startled, her robe pulled tight, her hair loose around her shoulders. She looked toward the bed — and froze.

A girl sat tangled in Langdon’s sheets.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Young. Furious. Wearing Langdon’s oversized white T-shirt like a dress.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

“What do you see?” the girl demanded, voice hoarse. “What do I look like?”

Elisa swallowed. “I see a girl I’ve never met before.”

She hesitated. “Who are you… and where is Langdon?”

“What do you mean, who am I?” the girl snapped.

“I mean exactly that. Who are you? Langdon’s new girlfriend?”
The girl gaped at her in disbelief.

“Don’t call me a girl!”

He threw the sheets aside and jumped to his feet.

“Stop staring! Don’t look at me until I wake up!”

“Whoever you are,” Elisa said quietly, “you’re not asleep. And while you’re in my house, try to be polite.”

The girl shook his head hard, as if trying to shake off a nightmare.

“I’m Langdon,” he shouted. “I went to bed, and now I wake up like this!”

Elisa stared at her.

“You’re confused,” she whispered. “Look in the mirror. Then tell me who you really are.”

The girl glared at her, then stumbled toward the full-length mirror on the closet door. Elisa snapped on the light.

The reflection staring back was not Langdon Arden.

A young woman with golden, wavy hair and a flushed, furious face stared from the glass. Blue eyes wide with shock. A dynamic, beach-babe body that belonged in the sunlight, not in a messy bedroom at three in the morning.

Langdon leaned closer. The reflection leaned closer.

“This is sick,” he muttered. “But at least I know I’m dreaming.”

He lifted the hem of the oversized shirt.

The body underneath was female in spring bloom

He slapped his cheek. “Why can’t I wake up?”

Elisa’s voice came from behind him. “Surely you remember who you really are.”

Langdon dropped the shirt and turned toward her. “This is a dream.”

“I don’t think so,” Elisa said. “But I don’t understand it either. Only magic in movies could do this, and Langdon never played with magic.”

Langdon chilled and then ran both hands through his hair. “I did some wish magic,” he admitted. “But I didn’t wish for this!”

“What are you talking about?”

He told her everything — the medallion, the chant, the stupid wish to be free of legal harassment for drug-selling. But he insisted he hadn’t ever asked the gods of magic to be a girl.

Elisa listened, stunned.

“If that were true,” she said slowly, “magic would have to be real. I can't believe that!”

Langdon stared at her.

“I got that medallion in the mail,” he said. “The note said it could grant wishes. I tried it. I wished to be off the legal hook. I also wished to begin all over again, be popular and well-liked. But I never asked to change at all!”

“If you really are Langdon,” Elisa said, “you have to prove it. Langdon has a middle name he hates. What is it?”

“Upchurch.”

“That’s right.” She hesitated a beat. “But maybe you saw his full name on his legal mail.”

“You’re being stupid. Ask me something else! Anything.”

She did. She asked about things he had said, things she had told him, and things he had done. All the girl’s answers were correct.

She wore a face of amazement. “I don't know how you can know so much, but if you’re really Langdon it must have happened because you played with magic.”

Langdon dropped onto the bed and pounded the mattress with both fists.

“This is insane!” he cried out.

Elisa stayed quiet, but only for a moment. “Listen. I’ve seen YouTube videos that interview people who claim to deal with magic,” she said. “Breaking spells. Fixing bad luck. My gynecologist told me she once consulted such a person. She offered to give me his number. I didn’t ask for it, because I thought she was joking or being silly. But because she and I are friends, I have her home number. I’ll phone her right away and ask for the magic doctor’s number, if she really knows of one.”

“Damn! Get it! Quick!”

Elisa hurried out of the room.

Langdon turned back to the mirror. The girl was still there.

“If this is real, my whole life is ruined,” he muttered.

Elisa returned several minutes later.

“I spoke to my doctor,” she said. “She gave me the number of her magic practitioner. I called him. He’ll see us at nine.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“Why not now?” Langdon demanded. “I don’t want to stay like this for six more hours!”

“That’s what he said. But he assured me that transformations aren’t the sort of magic that gets worse with time.”

Langdon groaned.

“It’s early, but do you want breakfast?” Elisa asked coaxingly.

“No. I want to fall asleep and wake up normal.”

Langdon didn’t fall asleep.

At 8:30, Elisa drove her new stepdaughter across town to the doctor’s address, a converted Victorian house. The door lacked a professional sign. The man who answered looked exactly like a doctor should — mid‑fifties, gray hair, calm eyes, white coat.

He nodded politely, then looked at Langdon.

“Is this the transformed boy?”

“Yes.”

He stared at the girl in oversized boy’s clothing.

“Sit,” he finally said. “Tell me what happened.”

Langdon poured out the story in a jumble of details.

The doctor listened without interrupting. Finally, he leaned back.

“I’ll tell you a truth most doctors ignore,” he stated. “Magic is real.”

Langdon blinked. “Damn. Elisa guessed that, but I was hoping she was wrong.”

“She wasn’t.”

The medical man folded his hands.

“You tried to make a wish using forces you didn’t understand. You’re surprised that the magic didn’t manifest how you expected. But it’s the nature of magic to listen to the unconscious mind more than the conscious one.”

“Like in the Monkey's Paw story?” asked Elisa.

“Not exactly. That was the story of an evil, cursed thing created to cause trouble. I doubt anything evil was involved in Langdon's case. Unexpected results usually occur because the unconscious mind uses a wish to make a person’s desire wish happen. In plain words, the conscious mind thinks it knows what a person wants. But it is the subconscious mind that rests much closer to his hopes and dreams, and it sees a person's hidden nature more clearly. It knows what the wisher really wants and sees it as its duty to make his secret dream come true.”

Langdon scowled. “No part of me wanted this!”

“In twenty-five years,” the doctor said, “I’ve seen eleven transformations. In each case, the manner of the change was not accidental. Each shape the subject took reflected the wisher’s unrealized fantasy.”

Langdon looked venom at him. “This is no fantasy of mine!” he said.

“Is that so? Can you honestly say that you never had a daydream about being a pretty girl?”

Langdon opened his lips to protest, but something — perhaps a guilty memory — pinched off his voice.

“The good news is that transformations can be reversed.”

“How?” the girl asked.

“It takes time.”

“How much time?”

“Almost exactly one year.”

Langdon groaned.

“Magic is star-influenced,” he added. “The celestial alignment must return to what it was during your transformation.”

“It’s only been six hours!” protested Langdon. “The stars can’t have changed at all.”

“No, not very much. But they need a reset. That means they have to change position and then return to their original place before they regain their ability to support any spell of counter magic.”

He handed Langdon a sheet of instructions. “When your mother told me about your problem over the phone, I printed this page for when you came by.” Then he looked Elisa’s way.

“I have a strong word of caution, Mrs. Arden. No good ever comes out of bringing a matter of magic before the public eye."

"What are you saying?"

“I'm advising you to tell as few people as possible about your son's transformation. They won't believe it and will argue." He addressed Langdon next. "You have to concentrate the energy of your mind on breaking the spell, not be wasting it quarreling with unbelievers."

“Doctor,” said Elisa, to keep these problems from happening, should Langdon establish a new identity for himself?”

“I would recommend that he do that. In fact, most transformed people eventually create new public personas for themselves.

“I have information that may prove helpful. I learned about a specialist who creates new identities for people who need them. It is mostly a matter of creating forged documents and convincing photographs made by AI image apps.

“I have his address on file. I can provide you with it.”

“What do you mean, a new identity?” demanded Langdon.

“I mean its a good idea to come up with a convincing story about who you are, until we can remove that spell from you." He looked back at Elisa. " Like, we can say Langdon ran away to avoid trial, and a girl relative came from out of town to stay with you for a while.

“There’s something else you should keep in mind, Langdon. The reversal will only work if you maintain both a strong conscious and also a strong unconscious desire to go back to your original shape.”

Langdon glowered at him. “It can't get stronger than it is now."

The doctor flashed a serious look. “I hope that's true. A boy in your situation has to focus on his mental attitude. A wrong attitude might keep the magic-removal spell from working a year from now.”

“If it doesn’t work, can we try it again?” asked Langdon.

Unfortunately no. If something goes wrong, a mystic door closes. If that happens, you’ll remain in your present shape for the rest of your life. Everything we do for the next year, we'll have to do perfectly.”

“You’re saying he might accidentally do something that keeps the spell from breaking?”

“Alas, yes.”

“What things should he avoid?” Elisa asked.

The expert turned to speak to Langdon directly. You must remind yourself every day that you are not a girl and don’t want to remain as one. You have to make yourself feel that truth deep down in your unconscious mind. That will help the counter-spell do its work.”

Langdon clenched his fists. “I can do that. I have a will like iron.”

The doctor smiled faintly. “Wonderful. May your every wish come true.”

To Elisa, he said, “I’ll give you the contact number for that identity paper forger. Before you talk to him, work out with Langdon the details of the identity that will work best for him.”

In conclusion, the doctor invited both the mother and the stepson to consult with him as needed over the next year if physical or psychological problems. After receiving the forger’s email address, Elisa suggested they go back to the car.

The ride home was glum and silent.

Langdon sat with arms crossed, furious and frightened. Girlhood for a year. A whole year. He couldn’t let anyone at school find out what had happened. The idea was humiliating. The last thing he wanted was to be laughed at.

He didn't like what he had been told, but what other choice was there? He could either fight girlhood or accept it. And accepting it was unthinkable.

That evening, Langdon lay in bed for an hour before forcing himself to face the mirror again.
The girl was still there — still as cute as cute could be, infuriatingly so. Langdon had always thought of himself as a superior guy. Now he could see the powers that be had made him a superior-looking girl. There was a kind of logic in that.

But the doctor’s warning echoed in his mind like the moan of a ghost.

A feeling of pride could make this permanent.

Langdon slapped his cheeks three times.

“Stay angry,” he told himself.

He had to expect that the year ahead would be the worst of his life. He had to be ready for it.

In a private and quiet corner of the house, Elisa was dialing a number she knew by heart. The pressure of the day had been unbearable. She needed someone to talk to.

Jethra Courtindale, the lawyer from Wizard’s Law Office, answered on the second ring.

“Well? How did the transformation go?”

Elisa explained the whole strange story in a rushed but low voice.

“From what you say,” Jethra replied confidently, “everything is moving smoothly. What we have to do now is give that girl the most fun and exciting year any high school girl ever experienced. By year’s end, we'll have her humming, “I Enjoy Being a Girl.”

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2