Status

Chapter 2
Part 2

Chapter Description: Updates.

[quote][quote][quote][size=2]Meanwhile, his sister crawled onto the desk chair in the den and booted up their parents’ laptop. The clock read 7:32 AM. The weekend. Maybe most were still in bed and internet access wouldn’t be too sluggish.

“Come on, come on,” she urged, as the Windows logo appeared onscreen. A few seconds later, the desktop loaded and she immediately opened Firefox. Clicking “Bookmarks,” she hastily found Facebook and prayed the site would load. Seconds ticked by as her palms grew wet with sweat. This had to be the answer. Once the login page showed up, she mistyped her email address and password twice before they were accepted. All the while noticing that the computer must have saved the login information for all the computer’s users.

Luckily, the site eventually loaded, with that beautiful blue logo shining bright at the top of the screen. Below that, staring back at her, was her profile image. An adorable picture of her bubbly second grade self. Pigtails hanging innocently from either side of her freckle-spotted face. Her eyes refocused, bringing her own reflection into view in the screen. Sarah winced; the two were identical. The title of a news article she read the day before suddenly popped into her head: “Has Facebook Taken Over Our Lives?”

“Holy shit,” she muttered. Somehow her profile had superseded real life. It didn’t take long before the full significance unfolded in her mind. If the pictures had affected her family, what about everyone else? How many Facebook users would wind up little kids or babies thanks to “Retro Week”? The information proved too much to swallow. Sarah had to focus on regaining her own maturity and an obvious solution presented itself.

Without a second’s hesitation, she entered her photos and selected the most recent picture she could find. A spontaneous but flattering shot taken two months ago during a friend’s birthday party. She remembered uploading it because it highlighted her deepening cleavage.

“Please work,” she chanted, clicking “Make Profile Picture” and expectantly clutching her boyish, flat chest. “This has to work.” Her breasts depended on it.

After a few moments, which felt like years, Sarah detected changes taking hold of her body. Her heels stretched further and further until they touched the floor. All over she witnessed the indescribable sensation of accelerated growth, with her limbs and torso lengthening, as if powered by an sudden, unreal release of super hormones. Sarah stared in disbelief at her expanding hands as the lines and creases traced brand new territory. Much to her relief, the machinery of puberty soon shifted into gear, and a pair of small doughy mounds emerged from her chest. Beginning as gentle slopes in her otherwise youthful figure, they steadily progressed into a modest set of buds. Squealing with delight, Sarah adjusted and readjusted her nightie to cover her nipples as her breasts swelled and took on their full, perky 16-year-old shape.

“Yes!” she cheered, grasping them in both hands, then peering down her gown. As expected, her privates were once again obscured by a veil of thin curly hair. A child no longer, Sarah collapsed into the desk chair, content to occupy her old curvy anatomy. An early bloomer, physically and mentally, she recoiled at the thought of returning to elementary school with her intellect intact. A lone bead of sweat traveled down her forehead and dripped onto her arm as she contemplated how close she’d come to living through that hell.

Really? That’s all? she wondered. The antidote to this Facebook curse wound up being deceptively simple. A mere click of the mouse and the world righted itself. Though the reason remained mysterious, controlling the effects was child’s play. The longer Sarah pondered, the more the fringe benefits became attractive and... tempting.

Smirking, Sarah leaned over, minimized Facebook, and opened her parents’ picture file. I wonder...

* * *

In a strange reversal of fates, Michael found himself tucking his mother in. He marveled at her fresh, well-padded face. Little resemblance to her middle-aged self had survived, save her arrowlike eyebrows. The rest had thawed into a typically cute and anonymous assemblage of baby fat and big eyes. Part of him refused to believe his parents had ever been so small.

“There you go, sleep tight,” he murmured almost instinctively, pulling the sheets up just below Maureen’s tiny, round chin.

As he finished, an altogether foreign feeling inched down his arms, past his elbows and wrist, and through the tips of his fingernails. He wouldn’t describe it as electrical, like nerve pain, but rather an acute burst of contained energy. Like a million chemical reactions firing in sequence along his limbs.

What the hell? Despite the lack of any accompanying pain, Michael nevertheless reacted with panic. He needed to find Sarah.

Tiptoeing, but with speed, he extricated himself from the bedroom and made his way down the hallway. With each step the alien sensation wiggled farther down his chest and waist, eventually overtaking his knees and calves. A slight corresponding numbness made walking into a somewhat unpredictable activity, but Michael managed, knowing his sister had to be close.

“Sarah!” he called, still refraining from yelling while Mom and Dad dreamed the hours away in blissful ignorance. “Are you here?”

Turning the corner, he spied his sister, completely back to normal, munching on a bag of potato chips at the desk - as if this were any other morning. Her feet propped up, she appeared utterly unperturbed by the situation.

“Oh hey, Michael,” Sarah casually addressed him, licking the salt from her fingers.

“S... Sarah? You’re OK again? I don’t feel right. I think -“

Placing her snack on the nearby coffee table, she proceeded to look her frightened brother over.

“Yeah, it’s sort of weird, isn’t it? Feels like fish are swimming through ya.”

“You know...? Wait.” Rendered mute by the strange turn of events, Michael finally stopped to put two and two together. Sarah was every bit 16 again and that meant...

“Oh wow,” she said, clapping her hands gleefully. “It really is working. This is fantastic. I know what I’m writing my next paper on.”

Reality finally crowded out Michael’s last remaining hint of optimism when Sarah drew close enough to underscore the most explicit change taking place. Why were they the same height? On a normal day, Michael practically towered over his sister. A “big dumb galoot,” that was one of her not-so-affectionate names for him. Now they stood virtually eye-to-eye, a fact that made the following words even more intimidating.

“You really shouldn’t set the browser so it remembers your passwords, Michael.”

Sarah laughed at her brother’s typically confused expression. The nervous giggle, the puppyish eyes, usually ushered in with that ridiculous simper. It looked even more adorable plastered on his awkward 15-year-old face.

“Sarah, what’s happening to... me?” he stuttered, his voice making a dramatic soprano jump at the last word.

The question went unanswered as Sarah continued sizing up her victim. Hunched against the doorway stood a remarkable replica of her older brother’s freshmen picture from high school. [I]Or maybe little brother was more appropriate now? The forest of stubble once inhabiting his cheeks had given way to the smooth, virginal face of a boy fresh out of middle school. Height had decreased accordingly. Within the space of the next few seconds, Michael re-entered the eighth grade and sure enough, the infamous cowlick reappeared right on schedule.

Reeling from the alterations in his physique, pants compressing like an accordion to the floor, Michael craned his head. “How?”

“Facebook,” Sarah explained. “Remember last night? All of us changed our photos for Retro Week, except you. You were too embarrassed. Well, somehow our real lives came into balance with our Facebook profiles overnight. Mom and Dad and I regressed to the ages depicted in our default pictures. Realizing that, I merely switched my image back to something more grown up and voil?.” She leaned over, lending Michael a sinful view of her dangling breasts.

“So... that means we can fix everything. We can change -“

“Ah, ah, ah,” she shushed him. “Not so fast, little man.”

“What do you mean?” Michael didn’t like where this was going one bit.

“I want to run a few experiments first,” Sarah informed him, bending over to ruffle his spiky morning hair. “Want to be my guinea pig?”

“Sarah, please,” the 13-year-old whined pitifully. “This isn’t fair. I’m supposed -“

“Fair?” she spat. “You wanna talk about fair? How about Mom and Dad buying you a car while their wunderkind sits at home like a total loser? How about me constantly picking up your slack and you getting all credit?” A dark sarcasm coated her speech. “Yeah, great job, Michael. You graduated high school with the lowest GPA possible. Then you trailblazed your way into community college. Mom and Dad practically threw you a parade. Meanwhile, I’m already set for college with two scholarships and I hardly get a birthday party.”

“If you would just change us back to normal...” her newly-minted little brother begged.

“I’ve got news for you, Michael. I don’t really like ’normal.’ So I’m gonna shake things up a bit, how does that sound?”

Michael looked down sheepishly at his baggy pajama shirt, his arms dangling like toothpicks inside the sleeves. He avoided thinking about how many inches his sister’s “experiment” had already subtracted from his height, not to mention other regions. Traces of adolescence were sparse, but still noticeable. Suggestions of maturity: a creaky voice that fluctuated sporadically and downy chestnut-colored hair sprouting under his arms. Still, as far as Michael was concerned, he might as well have been every bit a child.

Settling back into her chair, Sarah spied her brother bordering on tears.

“Oh, come on, Michael,” she soothed. “I figured you would love being a kid again. You always seemed happiest that way... you know, before school and the real world.”

Wait, why am I just taking this abuse? he thought. She hadn’t reduced him to a whimpering infant. Not yet anyway. No sense in cowering while his sister flaunted her new godlike powers. Instinct took over. Pulling up and cinching his billowing pants, Michael dashed toward the desk with his best war face. Articles of clothing flapped in the breeze, greatly reducing the intended effect of his attack. Still, before Michael even made it five feet from his sister, his body just halted - as though it had encountered an invisible force field.

“Hey!” he shouted, this time his throat managing nothing but a boyish tenor. “Why can’t I -“

Sarah’s smile grew even broader as she confirmed her latest hypothesis. Logged in as her brother, she had posted a new status update that simply read, “Michael Reardon is staying at least five feet from his beautiful sister.” (She figured throwing in some adjectives just for flavor wouldn’t hurt.)

“Oh shit, it works!”

From Michael’s perspective, however, nothing was “working” the way it should. Each time he backed away and approached the magical five foot radius, his mind and body locked up - not only did his muscles disobey commands, the commands themselves ceased. His will remained intact, despite the disconnect, but with the order of reality flipped, making Michael completely subject to the mandates of his Facebook status, his body became inert. A tool at her disposal. Needless to say, there was no limit to what havoc his sister might wreak with this new feature.

“Well, this should simplify things,” she reported. “I am now controlling the transmission...” She loved quoting The Outer Limits.

Michael’s hands began involuntarily quivering. Matters had spun wildly out of control in a matter of minutes.

“See, I can write your status updates now. That means you don’t have to worry about cooking up any little escape plans... not that you’d be smart enough to pull them off anyway. You’ll do what I tell you, Mikey. Won’t that be a blast?”

Michael shuttered. I knew I should have joiner Twitter.[/size][/quote][/quote][/quote]