By some strange twist of fate, I swapped bodies with the person who bullied me. I became the adored heiress of the Summers family, while she was stuck as the older sister in a family that drained her dry. Later, when she was slapped across the face and left crying on her knees, she begged me to switch back. SMACK! The moment I stepped into the classroom, a slap sent me stumbling backward. “How dare you even show your face here?” Maya Summers stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, glaring at me with pure disdain. “Why didn’t you pass me the answers during yesterday’s test?” I clutched my burning cheek and stammered, “The proctor was watching too closely. I couldn’t get the answers to you.” But Maya didn’t care about my excuses. All she cared about was her grades. How I managed to pass her the answers was my problem, not hers. A growing crowd of students gathered in the hallway, eagerly watching the drama unfold. My cheek throbbed with pain as I lowered my head and muttered, “I’m sorry, Maya. I’ll do better next time.” Hearing my apology, Maya’s expression softened slightly. She scoffed, spun around, and returned to her seat. I tried to follow her into the classroom, but her sidekick, Rainie, blocked my path. Rainie smirked and poked me hard in the forehead with her manicured finger. “You better be grateful Maya let you off easy. If this happens again, you’ll regret it.” Satisfied with her intimidation, she turned on her heel and strutted back to her seat. Only then was I finally able to walk into the classroom. As I passed by, the class representative muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear: “Getting slapped like that and still apologizing like a dog. Do you have no self-respect?” My fists clenched tightly at my sides, shaking with frustration. I wanted to fight back. But Maya’s family was filthy rich, and her uncle was the school’s vice principal. And me? I lived in a run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of town. My mom had drilled it into me from a young age: “Keep your head down at school. Don’t cause trouble.” With a deep sigh, I unclenched my fists and returned to my seat. After a long day of classes, the teachers handed out their usual piles of homework. As usual, Maya tossed her worksheets onto my desk. She pulled a $20 bill out of her designer bag and threw it in my face. “You know the drill: do mine first, then do yours.” I nodded, silently gathering her papers into my bag. When I got home that evening, I barely had time to close the door before my mom slapped me across the face—right on the same cheek Maya had hit earlier. The sting of the slap brought tears to my eyes as I felt the fresh handprint bloom over the already swollen skin. “Well, well, Ashley,” my mom sneered, “what kind of trash have you been learning at school? Stealing money now, are we?” My heart sank when I saw the piggy bank in her hand. That was my money, all the cash I’d earned from part-time jobs. I’d hidden it carefully in my room. How had she found it? “Your brother found this while cleaning your room,” she spat. “I didn’t raise you to be a thief!” I glanced toward the living room, where my little brother sat on the couch playing video games. His smug grin made my blood boil. The handheld console in his hands? He’d begged me to buy it for him, and I’d refused. I snatched the piggy bank from my mom and shook it. Sure enough, a large chunk of my money was missing. Pointing an accusing finger at my brother, I shouted, “You stole my money to buy that stupid game!” My mom turned to him, her expression uncertain. But he didn’t miss a beat. “That’s my money from my part-time job. What’s your problem?” he said, feigning innocence. Then he added, “Actually, that money isn’t even hers—it’s yours, Mom! She probably stole it from you!” My mom’s face darkened with fury. She snatched the piggy bank back from me and screamed, “Caught red-handed, and now you’re trying to frame your brother? You’ve really lost it, Ashley!” Reaching behind the door, she grabbed a metal hanger and swung it at my legs. The pain was so intense that my knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor. My brother, now towering over me, smirked and adjusted his seat so he was sitting directly in front of where I knelt. All I could do was grit my teeth and bury the burning humiliation deep inside.
The Beating Continued Like a Storm of Blows I tried to explain through the pain that the money was mine, earned from working part-time jobs. But of course, my mom didn’t believe me. She’d rather trust my lazy, good-for-nothing brother than me. I don’t know how long it went on, but eventually, she stopped. She took all my money and told me to get up and cook dinner. Dragging my bruised body, I forced myself to finish the chores—cooking, cleaning, laundry—before I finally sat down to do my homework. By the time I finished one set of assignments, it was already 1 a.m. I stared at the two identical stacks of homework on my desk—my own and Maya Summers’. The events of the day replayed in my mind, and I couldn’t help it anymore. For the first time, I wrote my name on the completed assignment meant for her. As soon as I did it, my heart pounded with fear. But… there was also a thrill, a spark of vengeance. The feeling didn’t last long. A few seconds later, I sighed, picked up the second set of blank worksheets, and started working again. At some point, exhaustion overtook me. I must’ve fallen asleep at my desk because the next thing I knew, my alarm was blaring. 6:30 a.m. Panic surged through me as I realized several pages of Maya’s homework were still blank. If she found out I hadn’t finished, I was dead. I grabbed my pen to start writing, but before I could, the door burst open. My brother stood there, arms crossed, barking, “Hurry up and make breakfast! I’m starving!” Behind him, my mom’s dark, angry face loomed. Under their suffocating pressure, I had no choice but to drop everything and head to the kitchen. By the time I finished cooking and cleaning up after them, there wasn’t a second left to spare. I stuffed my things into my bag and sprinted to school, barely avoiding being late. When I entered the classroom, Maya was already glaring at me. “You’re late. What took you so long?” she snapped. Before I could answer, she demanded, “Where’s my homework?” Instinctively, I clutched my bag to my chest, stammering as I hesitated to hand it over. Her eyes narrowed. Without another word, she yanked my bag out of my hands and rifled through it. When she pulled out her unfinished worksheets, her expression darkened into something terrifying. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I paid you, and this is what I get?” She waved the papers in the air, then slapped me across the face, hard. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she forced me to look at her. “Ashley, I didn’t know you had the guts to pull something like this.” The searing pain in my scalp brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them from falling. The classroom fell silent as everyone turned to watch. From the back of the room, a few boys started jeering. “Get her, Maya! Teach her a lesson!” “Yeah, slap her again!” Fueled by their encouragement, Maya’s fury grew. She hit me two more times, each slap harder than the last. Her sidekick, Rainie, joined in by grabbing my homework and ripping it to shreds. I sat there, frozen, as sunlight streamed through the windows. The warmth of the sun felt mocking against the icy chill inside me. This wasn’t just a classroom anymore—it was a living hell. Images of the past few months flashed through my mind: The money I’d worked so hard to save, stolen by my mother. Her baseless accusations. The bruises on my body. I knew she didn’t actually believe I was a thief. She just needed an excuse to take what was mine and claim it as hers. The thought ignited something inside me—a fire that burned hotter and brighter with every passing second. Before I knew it, I shoved Maya away with all my strength. She stumbled backward, her face twisting with shock. At the same time, I saw Rainie raising her hand to slap me again. I braced myself, squeezing my eyes shut. But the blow never came. Instead, I heard a sharp cry of pain. Opening my eyes, I saw something that made my blood run cold. I was sitting on the ground, but Maya—Maya was clutching her face, looking terrified. Even stranger, she was wearing my clothes. And… she looked exactly like me. I glanced down at myself and froze. The short skirt Maya had been wearing earlier was now on me. Rainie rushed to my side, concern etched across her face. “Maya, are you okay?!” Maya? Wait… What the hell just happened?
Rainie Called Me… Maya? I stared at my hands in shock. They were smooth, soft, and unblemished—so different from my own calloused hands, roughened by endless chores like cooking and scrubbing. These weren’t my hands. It hit me like a freight train: somehow, I had swapped bodies with Maya Summers. I looked up and saw Maya—well, my body—staring back at me with wide, horrified eyes. Rainie, oblivious to what had happened, shot her—no, me—a scolding glare. “Ashley, what’s with that look? Do you want another beating or something?” That confirmed it. Instead of fear, a wave of exhilaration rushed through me. I wasn’t the Ashley everyone bullied anymore. The bell rang, and Rainie grabbed my arm—well, Maya’s arm—guiding me back to her seat. “Don’t stress over it, Maya,” she said soothingly. “Your uncle’s the principal. One missed assignment won’t matter. We’ll deal with Ashley after school.” Hearing the words “deal with Ashley,” my body froze instinctively. Rainie noticed and frowned. “What’s wrong, Maya?” I shook my head quickly, pretending nothing was wrong. Sitting in Maya’s seat, I pulled out a mirror from her desk. The face staring back at me was hers—Maya’s. “Ah!” A scream erupted from the front of the classroom. Maya—no, my body—was staring into a mirror of her own. The teacher slammed a ruler onto the desk, glaring at her. “Ashley, stop yelling! If you disrupt my class again, get out!” Maya swallowed her anger and sat down, her lips trembling with frustration. A few minutes later, she scribbled a note and passed it to me. What’s going on? Did you cast some kind of spell on me?! I stared at her words, unsure how to respond. I didn’t have an answer either. When class ended, Maya—still in my body—was called to the teacher’s office. Meanwhile, her lackeys, Rainie and another girl, swarmed around me, excitedly asking how we should “punish” Ashley. I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I didn’t want to accidentally blow my cover, so I mimicked Maya’s usual demeanor as best I could. “Just handle it the same way as before,” I said casually, waving a hand. Their eyes lit up with excitement. Maya returned to the classroom just before the next lesson started. Her face—my face—was swollen and red, her expression full of barely contained rage. It was almost funny watching her try to look menacing with my bruised and puffy features. She glared at me, as she always did. In the past, I would’ve immediately looked away, afraid to meet her gaze. But this time, I stared her down, head held high. Caught off guard, she faltered for a moment before stomping back to her desk. She opened the drawer to grab a book, but instead, her hand pulled out a dead rat. Her scream was ear-piercing. She flung the rat away in a panic—straight onto her deskmate’s lap, who cursed her out for it. Watching her flail around like that was oddly satisfying. Even though she was wearing my face, I couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. All day, Maya—trapped in my body—was berated, humiliated, and bullied. By the time school ended, it was clear she was finally relieved the day was over. But what she didn’t know was that this was just the beginning. Before she could confront me, Rainie and the other lackeys dragged her off to the back alley behind the school. I knew that alley well. It was the place where I’d been beaten and tormented countless times. A few older guys were waiting there—Maya’s “crew.” I recognized all of them. They’d been responsible for most of my bruises in the past. When they saw me, they immediately straightened up, their faces lighting up with fake smiles. “Maya! Glad you’re here,” one said, practically bowing. I nodded coolly and sat on the stone bench they’d wiped clean for me. Maya—still in my body—was held down by Rainie and the others. She thrashed and struggled, finally breaking free and crawling over to me. Her eyes were filled with hatred as she snarled, “What the hell is going on?! What did you do to me?!” Before she could touch my shoes, one of the guys yanked her back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing? Trying to suck up to Maya now?” Pinned to the ground, Maya looked up at me, her expression a mix of disbelief and rage. I stared down at her, letting a smirk curl across my lips. It was the same look she always gave me—mocking, condescending, and full of disgust. For the first time, Maya Summers was tasting what it felt like to be me.
I Turned Away, Leaving Maya to Her Fate I didn’t want to look at my old, pitiful face for another second. I gave Rainie a signal to handle the situation and turned to leave. Behind me, I could hear Maya—now trapped in my body—screaming like a madwoman. “Ashley! I don’t care what kind of witchcraft you used! You better watch your back!” I paused mid-step, turned around, and crouched down beside her. Grabbing her chin the same way she used to humiliate me, I leaned in close and whispered into her ear: “From now on, you’re Ashley. And I’ll be taking your place, living as the Summers family’s precious little princess.” The words felt like a release, like the weight of years of injustice was finally lifting off my chest. For the first time in forever, I felt light. Even my steps were bouncier as I left the alley. Outside, the Summers family’s chauffeur was waiting by a sleek black car. The moment he saw me, he straightened up and opened the door with a respectful bow. “Miss Summers.” I didn’t immediately head to the Summers estate. Instead, I decided to make a detour. Checking the time on my phone, I instructed the driver to take me back to my old home. When we arrived, I stayed outside, peering through the window. Maya, now stuck in my body, was kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room. In front of her stood my mom, holding a broom in one hand and the $20 bill Maya had thrown at me yesterday in the other. “What, stealing once wasn’t enough for you? Now you’re trying to do it again, huh?!” Maya didn’t even get a chance to explain before my mom began beating her with the broom. The blows rained down mercilessly as Maya screamed and cried, insisting the money was from a classmate. But my mom didn’t believe her—she never did. I watched through the window, feeling a strange mixture of satisfaction and pain. I knew exactly how Maya felt. I’d been through the same thing countless times—falsely accused, beaten, silenced. My body knew this routine all too well: flinching, twisting, trying to dodge the blows, knowing it was pointless to argue. Suddenly, as if sensing my presence, Maya—still in my body—turned her head sharply and looked straight at me. I snapped out of my thoughts and let a small, cold smile curl across my lips. This is what you deserve, Maya. You wanted my life? Go ahead. Enjoy it. With that, I turned back to the car and told the driver to take me to the Summers estate. Living as Maya Summers The Summers family estate was like something out of a movie—a sprawling mansion surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and a fountain in the driveway. It was the kind of place I never even dared to dream of setting foot in. The moment I walked through the doors, a housekeeper rushed over to help me change my shoes. I wasn’t used to this level of attention and waved her off, insisting I could do it myself. But to my surprise, she immediately dropped to her knees, trembling. “Miss Summers, I’m sorry! Please don’t fire me! I promise I’ll do better next time!” Her panicked reaction caught me off guard. I quickly crouched down, helping her up as I asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?” It took a lot of reassurance before she stopped shaking. With her head lowered, she explained, “You always let me help you with your shoes. But now you won’t let me. I thought… I thought you were unhappy with me…” I realized then just how spoiled and cruel Maya had been. Even something as small as refusing help sent the staff into a panic. Just as I was about to reassure her further, a voice from the living room cut through the air. “Go to HR and collect your paycheck. You’re done here.” It was Maya’s father. He hadn’t even looked up from his newspaper as he delivered the cold dismissal. I froze, unsure of how to respond. Part of me wanted to plead for the housekeeper, but I quickly caught myself. If I acted out of character, Mr. Summers might suspect something was wrong. Swallowing my words, I gave the housekeeper an apologetic look as she quietly left, tears streaming down her face. “Miss Summers, dinner is ready,” a young woman called out from the dining room. I recognized her from school. She was Maya’s mom. “Coming, Mom,” I said, trying to mimic Maya’s usual tone. I dropped my school bag onto the couch and walked toward the dining room. But as I entered, I froze. The entire family was seated, their eyes all fixed on me. Especially Mrs. Summers. Her gaze was intense, almost as if she could see through me. A chill ran down my spine, and cold sweat prickled at the back of my neck. Had I done something wrong? Had they already noticed something was off? Sitting at the Dinner Table Mrs. Summers served me a bowl of rice as I nervously ate, my eyes darting around to gauge everyone’s expressions. Mr. Summers seemed to be in a good mood. He even added some food to my plate a few times, telling me to eat more. But Mrs. Summers… her gaze was different. Throughout the meal, she kept staring at me, her expression unreadable, yet heavy with suspicion. It made my skin crawl, like she could see straight through me—as though she knew that despite looking like Maya Summers, inside, I was Ashley. After dinner, Mr. Summers left to work on some business matters, and I stayed behind to help Mrs. Summers clean up. I was carefully carrying the last plate when she suddenly leaned in close, inspecting me from head to toe.
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