Olivia was an explorer at heart. She wanted to go to every corner of the globe, no matter the danger. And nothing was going to tame her… or anyone. Olivia was also a lover of coffee, which was perfect for her, as the country she is currently in is famous for its excellent coffee. Olivia had been to a different cafe nearly every day of her month-long visit to Indonesia. And today isn’t going to be any different.

Click

Olivia didn’t hear the gentle click of the door’s lock as she entered the empty coffee shop. Nor did she see the evil grin on the café owner’s face, which quickly snapped to a warm smile as she approached. “You so beautiful!” He says to her as she comes to the counter. “But my coffee make you more so. It free for you!”

“Oh, thank you!” replies Olivia, pulling up a chair at the counter. She thought nothing of the man’s comments. She had got plenty of attention so far during her travels in Indonesia.

He turns to make an expresso, carefully hiding himself pour in a dark liquid from an ancient bottle. After a moment, he turns back, a freshly made espresso in his hand. “Enjoy!”

Olivia smiles at him warmly before taking a sip of the espresso. Her eyes open wide as she tastes it. It’s a perfectly balanced coffee with a sweet and creamy flavor, typical of Indonesian beans. But something else is in the mix: a sweet, floral undertone. The coffee is so good that Olivia finishes it in moments and is desperate for another.

“Another one ple-” She begins to say before freezing. A sudden heat flushes through her body, and her muscles tense and seize. Her heart starts thumping as she begins to panic. Had she been poisoned? Suddenly, she sees something brown in her peripheral vision. Her eyes spin, allowing her to see the dark splotches that had appeared across her arm. Her skin was changing. Rapidly. She can only watch as the dark spots on her skin merge as they expand. Soon, these spots overtake her natural pale tone, leaving all of her brown in moments. Olivia wants to scream, but her body is locked in place entirely, leaving her only able to catch glimpses of what is happening by moving her eyes. She sees black enter her vision, realizing it must be hair. Her hair. Her beautiful blonde hair must be turning black, and sure enough, the glimpses of gold that she usually caught in her side vision are soon gone. Only black remains.

Suddenly, Olivia lurches forward as her whole body spasms painfully. She goes so far forward that her body hits the counter, her chin smacking against the wood painfully. Her body then spasms again and again, with each spasm exploding through every part of her. With each spasm, she notices weird sensations. Her chin seems to get closer to her chest, without her position shifting, as though her back was shorter. Same with her toes, which seem to get closer to her ass, as though her legs had gotten shorter. Her feet also feel different in her shoes, which suddenly seem to be a few sizes too big. She even feels herself losing padding where her body touches the chair and counter, with mass seemingly vanishing from her ass and chest. With one final big spasm, she falls back into her chair, the whole world feeling taller than it had just a moment ago.

With the spasms over, she realizes her muscles feel a little looser. She tries to get up but doesn’t yet have the strength. Instead, she turns her body to face the owner, who she realizes has been watching her the whole time. An evil grin across his face.

“What did you give-” She begins to shout before being cut short by her mouth and eyes snapping shut. Olivia’s face suddenly feels like it is being crushed in a vice, and she feels her features give way to this pressure. Her nose seems to flatten, and her eyes seemed to stretch. Even her ears seem to shift a little.

“More beautiful!” Exclaims the café owner, smiling widely. “You look beautiful, like local!”

Olivia wills her hands up to her face. She starts by touching her nose, which feels broader at the base, and now has a gentle roundness where there was a sharpness before. Her fingers then glide downwards to her lips, which don’t feel much different, before moving to her cheekbones, which feel distinctly more prominent than before. Then, she rubs her chin and jaw, which seem more rounded and less angular. She then goes up her eyes. Her eyelids are fuller, with a gentle curve at an angle quite different from what she was used to, with the shape of her brow feeling very different. Her hand finally moves to her ears, which feel slightly smaller, their curves fitting tighter against the side of her head. Olivia desperately wanted to find a mirror, but she wasn’t quite ready to get up.

“What did you-“She starts to shout, her new face red in anger, but her lips and tongue fight against her. She can’t seem to form the words right. “What deed yu do too mee?” She finally manages to get out, the words sounding strange as she speaks.

“I told you! I make you beautiful!” Replied the café owner, enjoying himself. “Not just body, but heart too.”

“Yu bitch… Yu beetchat-“Olivia shouts, unable to get the words right. “Kayuu bangsat!” She tries again, speaking gibberish somewhere between English and something more local. Olivia hears what she is saying is wrong but can’t correct herself; even her thoughts are wrong.

“Why iku no say language Inggris right.” She adds, her English sounding worse, and her Indonesian sounding better. “What kamu do to aku?”

“Aku udah bilang, aku juga udah bikin hatimu jadi lebih indah!” Replies the café owner in Indonesian. Olivia is shocked to find she can understand him. Fear joins her anger as she understands that he said that he meant to make her heart beautiful, too.

“No, aku no want lupa Bahasa Inggris!” Pleads Olivia, nearly entirely in Indonesian. Her next pleads are wholly Indonesian as the last of her English vanishes. “Tolong jangan bikin aku lupa!”  She cries, asking him to not make her forget English.

“Tenang, kamu bakal ngerasa lebih baik sebentar lagi.” Replies the café owner, meaning she will feel better soon. Olivia understands him as though she has spoken Indonesian her whole life, and her mind races. How could she feel better after this?

Olivia’s mind is so focused on her fear and rage that she can’t detect that parts of her life are being rewritten. Deep underneath her, Olivia’s childhood in Chicago is being replaced by a village near Solo. Flooding in are memories: memories of herself running barefoot across dirt roads, memories of her friends with their black hair and brown faces, memories of her years in the nearby school with hardworking teachers wearing the hijab. Olivia blinks and momentarily forgets why she is mad and fearful. She feels her mouth form a smile and feels at ease in the café. Olivia has to force herself to remember that she should be angry and that the smile should be a frown.

Deep below, childhood services at the church are replaced with a childhood dedicated to the village’s mosque. Her mom’s blue eyes and blonde hair are replaced with a dark Asian face, always wrapped in a hijab. She remembers washing her mom’s brown feet on Mother’s Day and the love and devotion she always strives to show her mother. Her father, too, becomes an elderly Asian man with a face worn by years of working as a laborer in the village. These changes are a tirade, washing away everything that is Olivia. Not one part of her can escape the flow of memories. Once again, she blinks, the anger and fear vanishing as she forgets why she has been feeling that way.

Olivia’s whole existence pauses as a smile spreads across her face once again.

The café owner observes her for a moment, watching to see if her face would change back to anger. Eventually, he feels it is safe and says in Indonesian: “Sis, do you want another coffee?

Olivia blinks. It’s like she was in a bubble, and he had just popped it. “No, thank you, bro. I really need to get going. Thanks for the coffee, though!”

“No problem, sis.” The café owner says with a grin. “Just one thing before you go: can I get your name?”

“I’m Wani!” replies Wani.

“And… I don’t suppose I can get your number?” Adds the café owner, his hand on his neck.

Wani thinks about this for a moment. “No, bro. It’s not proper for a Muslim woman to give her number to a man she barely knows,” Wani says firmly, a newfound conviction shining through. With these words, she gets up and makes her way out of the café.

“I think the elixir worked too well!” The café owner thinks to himself as he watches the beautiful Indonesian girl step out of his store and into her new life.

This is a rewrite of one of my first ever posts as Betamax17. Check out the original and compare here!