A Cursed Education

Prompt 21: Character gets cursed by ex-lover 

Chris had a problem.

He'd met this girl. Real cute, one of those Goth chicks that everyone talked about. She was kinda weird, kinda spooky, but he figured it was fine. She was hot. That counted for a lot.

Chris had to pretend to care about a lot of stuff, just to get her to go on a date with him. But that's how it was with girls. You had to make them believed you were interested in their chatter or they wouldn't give you the time of day.

The first date went well, even though Chris had to pay for dinner and a movie and she wouldn't make out with him in the theater. She actually wanted to watch the stupid horror movie. She did let him put his arm over her shoulders, and he brushed against her chest "by accident" so it wasn't a total waste of time.

But then they went on a second, and then a third date. And the girl acted like she was having a good time but she never did more than kiss, and she was reluctant about that.

What was the deal?

Everyone knew girls that dressed like that were all after attention. He was doing all that lame ass "nice guy" shit, too. He listened to her boring problems, or he pretended to anyway. He paid for dinner. He made sure to text her a couple of times a day so she didn't think he'd forgotten she existed or whatever.

And she still didn't invite him in to her apartment, or go home with him.

How long was he supposed to wait, anyway?

Chris made a mistake after their fourth date.

He asked the question.

"Don't you love me?"

He was sure she'd fold. She'd rush to reassure him that of course, he was the love of her life. Then she'd agree to anything he asked for, to prove it.

Only… that's not what happened.

He asked her that question, and her eyes narrowed. She asked what he meant. So he tossed out a couple hints. How unappreciated he felt. How much he gave her, how much he liked her. All that.

And she snorted, really unattractive, and shook her head.

"You really are just like all the others," she muttered. "And here I was actually going to spare you. Oh, well."

“Spare me?” Chris repeated.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” She stood up from the table. “Let’s not make a scene about this, huh? It’s been… fun, I guess, it’s not me it’s you, all that stuff. Goodbye and lose my number.”

“You— you bitch are you breaking up with me?” Chris demanded.

“You’re only with me because you want to get in my pants,” she said. “I figured that out on our first date, but I thought I’d give you a chance to earn it. I’m not against a little fun under the covers. But you,” she sighed, like he was the one wasting her time, not the other way around, “you think you’re owed something. Entitled to my time and my body.”

“I… I’ve been nice to you!” Chris protested. “I never tried to make you do anything! I’m not like that.”

“You haven’t tried to use force, I will grant you that,” she said with a shrug. “But you were just trying to manipulate me into agreement. Weren’t you?”

“Women manipulate men all the time! You use us for… for free drinks and jewelry and…”

“I haven’t asked you for anything but the same time and attention I freely offer to you,” she said. “And, pro tip: dating is a chance to find someone you want to spend time with, in and out of bed. Do you even like me? I see your eyes glaze over when I talk about my favorite music, movies, my hobbies. If I wasn’t cute and sexy, would you want to have even one conversation with me?”

“You’re not that good looking,” Chris mumbled. “I just figured you were easy, since you dress like a whore.”

“Ah, there it is.” She sighed and shook her head. “You know there’s a couple of reasons I dress this way. I’ve even told you some of them, but you were never really listening, were you?” She paused, and leaned closer for a moment. “You don’t listen. Maybe if you did… you’re not a bad person, Chris. You actually have a lot of potential. I’m gonna help you out.”

“Help me? I don’t need help!”

“You do, though, you really do. You’re aiming for a sad, lonely life if you continue on as you are. And that would honestly be a waste. The few moments where you stopped plotting to get in my pants and actually let yourself have fun… there’s a genuinely interesting, fun person under all that entitlement and manipulation.”

Chris wanted to stand up and storm out of the diner. Instead, he found himself pinned in place by a weight on his shoulders. It felt like someone was standing over him, holding him down. He could feel two hands, fingers even, but there was nothing there!

“What I’m doing is technically a curse,” she told him, “but don’t think of it that way. Think of it as a learning experience.”

“You’re crazy!” Chris shouted.

She leaned over him. “Probably. But I’m also a crazy powerful witch. You’d know that too, if you paid any attention. Now, you don’t have any choice.”

“What do you mean?” Chris asked.

“You’ll see.” She waved her hands in a weird little gesture, twisted the pinky against her palm, and then turned and walked away.

Chris wanted to follow her, demand to know what she was going on about. Witch? He thought she was just a cute Goth girl. She never told him anything like that!

Had she?

She talked… like a lot… and he didn’t usually listen that closely, once he had the rhythm of things. He’d listen to the topic, catch enough detail to know when to nod along and when to agree and when to say something witty. Then he’d sort of drift off and enjoy the way her boobs bounced under her tight lace top.

He thought he’d have paid attention if she said something like, “I’m a witch and I curse people.”

When he got out of the diner, though, she was nowhere to be found. He sent her a text, basically saying he didn’t think her little joke was funny. And he made sure to say that he was breaking up with her, because no one dumped him. He was gonna let her down easy but she got all weird so he did it by text.

Chris wasn’t worried about her “curse” bull crap. She was just being a weird little freak. He was better off.

He decided to go out to a bar, find a cute girl that wasn’t crazy and creepy and go have some real fun.

He found a bar with a good crowd, and prowled until he found a girl all alone in the corner. Shy looking little thing, cute outfit, make up and all. He sidled up next to her and offered her a drink.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, “but thanks.”

He wasn’t taking no for an answer, so he bought two drinks and sat down next to her. He put his hand on her arm, all friendly like—

And the room spun and dipped and he felt sick and his vision went fuzzy.

What the Hell?

He couldn’t have been drugged. He hadn’t taken a sip of his drink yet!

He looked around, and almost face planted onto the table.

“Are you all right?” the girl asked.

She twisted, and his hand fell off her arm, and everything went clear and normal.

What the Hell?

“I’m fine. Must be the lights or something,” he muttered. “You feel okay?”

“I’m okay,” the girl said. “Should I call someone for you? A taxi maybe?”

“Uh, nah, I got Uber. Let me just…” he pulled out his phone and called for a ride. He must be coming down with something.

The night was a loss anyways.

The next Friday he was out again, this time in the club. And it happened again. He was grinding on this girl, dancing real hot, and suddenly he felt someone large and strong and mean press up to him, hold him by the hips and rub his ass. He twisted around, but there was no one there.

And it stopped the second he stopped dancing.

He wrapped his arm over a girl at the bar, and he felt dizzy and sick and then… then someone was holding him down and—

He barely made it to the bathroom.

Every time he touched a woman, he felt something. Something awful. Voices called out to him that no one else heard. Called him things that made him want to sink through the floor. Hands touched him, pressed him down, wandered places he did not enjoy when it wasn’t a hot chick doing it.

Several times, he felt dizzy, sick… drugged. He felt drugged. But the effect always went away the second he stopped touching whoever he’d bought a drink for.

Was that… was that what those drugs did to people? He’d never… sure, he pressured girls to have one more drink, but he never… did that to anyone.

He texted the witch girl. She didn’t answer. He texted again. He wasn’t too proud to say he begged her.

He called her, and left a voice mail.

And after almost a week, a week where he didn’t dare touch anyone, where he kept his hands in his pockets and stayed the Hell out of crowded bars, clubs, restaurants and anyplace else, she called him back.

“What did you do to me?” he demanded.

“I told you. I placed a curse on you.” She didn’t sound sorry. How could she not be sorry?

“Curses aren’t real! What did you really do?”

“If curses aren’t real, why do you think I did anything?” she asked.

“You- it had to be you! You dumped me, and then I went to a bar and I bought this other chick a drink- and she was hotter than you by the way- but I touched her arm and handed her the drink and then I felt all weird and woozy.”

“Like someone drugged your drink?” she asked.

“I guess. Never been drugged. But I didn’t drink anything,” he said.

“You don’t have to.” She sounded really smug. “The curse makes you feel what others feel. Specifically, it makes you feel what you make others feel when you touch them.”

“I didn’t do anything to that girl! I didn’t drug her! I don’t do that,” he protested.

“No, but tell me. Did she ask for a drink? Or did you buy her one and shove it into her hand, ignoring her refusal?”

“Girls always say no. They don’t really mean it.”

She sighed. “I think you actually believe that. And sure, some girls do play games. Do you really want to waste your time with someone who plays mind games?”

“Um… whatever. I didn’t drug her!”

“No, but someone did. And getting a drink shoved at her by some pushy dude in a bar made her remember. And the curse made you feel it, too.”

He thought about the woman he’d danced with. Was that how she felt, when he came up behind her like that? But why didn’t she move away? Or say something?

“Well, this is crap! Take this curse off of me,” Chris demanded.

“I can’t. It’s permanent,” the witch said.

“What do you mean, it’s permanent?” Chris yelled.

“I mean, the curse can’t be removed or broken. It’s forever.” She still didn’t sound sorry at all.

“So, what, I’m never supposed to touch another person? Ever?” Chris asked.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that at all. The curse only activates if you touch someone who doesn’t want to be touched. If the other person wants your hands on them, nothing happens. Oh, actually, you might get some impressions, but they’ll be pleasant. It doesn’t always happen. But hey, find a girl that wants to kiss you and see what happens. It might be fun.”

“What the Hell?” Chris yelled. “How could you do this? Why?”

“You aren’t a bad guy,” she said. “I figured, a little empathy could go a long way. Anyway, it’s not that bad. I haven’t had any problems.”

“What?” Chris demanded.

“Placing a permanent curse on someone has a price,” the witch explained. “I have to carry it, too. But my parents successfully taught me to keep my hands to myself as a child, so it hasn’t bothered me much. Oh, wait, I did test it and bumped into someone on the bus. I felt a very distinct impression of how fascinating my breasts are to some people. So, that’s a weird sensation.”

“So what do I do?” Chris asked.

He could practically see her shrug. It wasn’t even any fun to imagine what her breasts were doing under whatever tight little outfit she had on.

“Keep your hands to yourself, I guess. Good luck.”

And then she hung up on him.

And, he discovered, she had the unmitigated gall to block his number!

Okay, fine. She was a bitch and she wasn’t going to help him. Someone would. He just had to find another witch.

Chris went back to the cafe where he’d met the witch, and spent several days chatting up the goth girls and guys. Most of them were just that. Goths out for some coffee. But after asking some leading questions and throwing around his ex’s name, he got a nibble.

This new girl wasn’t actually a goth. She wore cute little dresses with flowers and strawberries all over them and it was a little creepy and little girl-ish, but it was fine because he wasn’t out to date her.

He told her everything, how his crazy ex cursed him and how he couldn’t touch anyone without these really unfair things happening. She listened, very sympathetic, and then she laughed.

“Oh, I know that spell. It’s Cath’s specialty.” She shook her head. “No one here is gonna help you, big guy. Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t. You’re stuck with this one.”

“There’s really no one that’ll help? What about, I don’t know, a guy witch?’

“You think a guy would help you? Fine,” the witch girl snickered. “Talk to Raul over there. He’s powerful. If anyone can un-curse you, it’s him.”

So Chris went to sit next to a dude in a really wild outfit made of velvet or some mess. Chris didn’t pay attention to guys’ clothes. But it looked fancy.

“I hear you have a problem,” Raul said.

“Some bitch cursed me.” And Chris told him everything. He was sure the other guy would understand.

Instead, Raul laughed at him. He laughed so hard tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, that’s a good one. An empathy spell.” Raul slapped the table hard enough to make Chris jump.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you fix me or not?”

“Oh, no way,” Raul said. “I’m nowhere near as strong as Cath. You’re stuck, buddy.”

“But that other witch said you were strong!” Chris protested.

“Yeah, but I’m not in Cath’s league. No one is. Anyway, why don’t you try just… not touching people without permission? How hard could that be?”

Chris scowled and left the cafe. It was clear that none of those freaks were going to help him.

He went out to the club that night. He got drunk. He did not put his hands on anyone. It was boring as Hell.

But on the way out, he saw a girl sitting on the curb. And he didn’t mean to, but he was still buzzed, and she looked sad so he thought, hey, maybe he’d just sit down next to her and let her lean on him. Then he’d call her a rideshare. His good deed for the day.

And when he bumped her shoulder, he felt someone grab him and slam him into a wall and he felt so dizzy and sick, and he realized. She was feeling that. Right then. She was so, so scared. He was shaking with it. Her eyes were glazed and crap. What if she was really hurt? His breath burned in his throat.

So he called for a ride, and took her right to the Emergency Room. She’d woken up enough to tell the nurse at the desk what happened. Some guy slipped her something and dragged her out the back way. She got away, but he shoved her into the wall first and then she just collapsed on the curb.

She thanked Chris for helping her. He shrugged and said it was just a rideshare, he’d do it for anyone. And he was glad she was all right.

She hugged him.

He didn’t feel the concussion or the drugs. He just felt warm and tingly. It was nice.

After that, he started being just a little more careful. He made sure to ask first when he wanted a dance. And he backed off if he felt bad after he touched someone. Because he’d figured out that just because someone didn’t stop him, didn’t mean they wanted to be touched. He’d have to get better at body language. The curse actually kinda helped with that.

And after a while, he got another girlfriend. And he found out something fun. When someone wanted him to touch them, and enjoyed it, well.

Kissing was excellent. And feeling what his partner felt meant he could really, genuinely connect. It was like a dating cheat code. He paid attention. He listened, just like he hadn’t listened to Cath. He worked hard to be the best boyfriend he could be, and not just because he wanted to feel good. He found that making another person happy was really awesome.

He didn’t become a “better person” overnight. But he was pretty sure he was a less crappy one. And that was a good start.

Maybe being cursed wasn’t so bad.