Evan woke up the next morning with a heavy sense of dread still clinging to him. The memory of the kiss from last night felt like a bruise he couldn’t shake. He rubbed his face, hoping to clear his mind and shake off the lingering exhaustion. His chest felt tight, the weight of the past weeks piling up inside him, making it hard to breathe.
Pulling himself out of bed, he slipped into the soft nightgown his grandmother had insisted he wear to bed. It was pastel pink, of course—everything had become pastel lately—and it fit too snugly against his small frame. He padded downstairs, the hem of the nightie brushing against his knees, a reminder of just how far he’d been pushed into this identity that wasn’t his.
When he reached the kitchen, his grandmother was already bustling around, humming to herself as she prepared breakfast.
“Good morning, Evie!” she called out without looking up. “You slept in a little today. I hope you’re feeling well after your big date!”
Evan winced at the sound of the name. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, sliding into his usual chair at the table.
“I’ve got some exciting news for you,” his grandmother continued, her back still turned to him as she finished pouring a cup of tea. “I was thinking about your health and how important it is for a young lady to stay in shape, especially now that you’re growing up. So, I’ve decided you’ll be starting a new diet from today onward.”
Evan blinked, confused. “A… diet?”
“Yes, dear!” she said brightly, turning around to face him with a tray of food. “I know it can be tough, but it’s important to take care of yourself, especially when you’re becoming such a lovely young woman.”
Evan’s stomach tightened. He wanted to protest, to tell her again that he wasn’t a young woman, but his voice felt like it had been trapped in his throat. Every time he tried to speak up, it felt pointless, like shouting into a void. She never listened—never heard him.
Instead, he glanced down at the tray of food she had placed in front of him. It looked… different from the usual breakfast. There was a bowl of oatmeal, topped with slices of fruit and drizzled with honey, but it was smaller than his usual portion. Alongside it was a green smoothie that looked too thick and too strange, almost unnatural in its vibrant color.
“This will help keep your figure trim and feminine,” his grandmother said, sitting down across from him. “We’ll be sticking to this diet for the rest of your time here. It’s designed to bring out your best qualities, Evie. You’ll feel more energetic, more graceful. It’ll be wonderful!”
Evan stared at the food, his appetite completely gone. “I don’t think I need to be on a diet,” he mumbled, trying to find a way to resist this without causing a fight.
“Nonsense!” his grandmother said with a light laugh. “All girls your age go through this, dear. It’s just part of growing up and becoming a young lady. Trust me, by the time your parents come back, you’ll feel like a whole new person.”
A cold shiver ran down Evan’s spine at the thought. He didn’t want to be a new person. He wanted to be himself—Evan. But the way she said it, the way she talked about this diet, made him feel like she was determined to mold him into something else entirely.
Reluctantly, Evan picked up his spoon and took a bite of the oatmeal. It tasted fine, but there was something off about it—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He pushed that thought aside, hoping to get through breakfast quickly.
The smoothie was even worse. It was thick, almost too sweet, and had a strange aftertaste that lingered in his mouth long after he swallowed it. He had to force himself to drink it, knowing his grandmother would insist if he didn’t.
“There you go,” she said, smiling warmly at him. “I’m so proud of you, Evie. By sticking to this, you’ll see such wonderful changes. You’ll be glowing!”
Evan didn’t respond, just nodding as he finished the meal, each bite feeling heavier than the last.
---
For the next few days, the new diet became a routine. Every morning and evening, his grandmother would prepare carefully portioned meals, always insisting on the importance of keeping his figure “girlish” and “delicate.” The smoothies became a constant, part of every meal, always with that strange aftertaste that Evan couldn’t shake.
The changes were subtle at first. He felt weaker, more tired than usual, even though his grandmother claimed the diet would give him more energy. His body felt softer, and though he tried to push it out of his mind, he couldn’t help but notice that his clothes—especially the ones his grandmother picked out—seemed to fit differently.
It wasn’t just the exhaustion or the feeling of weakness. Something else felt… off. His chest, for one, had started to feel sore, a constant dull ache that he couldn’t explain. At first, he chalked it up to stress, or maybe the strain from cheerleading practice, but as the days went on, the sensation didn’t go away.
One morning, about a week after the new diet had started, Evan stood in front of his mirror, frowning at his reflection. His chest felt different—rounder, softer. His fingers hesitantly brushed over the area, and he winced at the tenderness.
Panic flickered in his chest. He didn’t know what was happening, but it felt wrong—like his body was changing in ways it shouldn’t. His reflection didn’t help, either. The soft waves of his hair framed his face in a way that made him look even more delicate, and with the pale nightgown he was wearing, he could barely recognize himself anymore.
His throat tightened, a familiar itch returning, but when he tried to speak, his voice came out softer—more girlish than it had ever been before. It was barely his voice at all anymore.
---
Later that morning, as Evan sat down for breakfast, he could barely touch the food. His grandmother, noticing his quietness, looked at him with concern.
“Evie, darling, are you feeling alright?”
Evan hesitated, his stomach twisting in knots. He couldn’t keep going like this, couldn’t keep letting these changes happen without saying anything. But how could he explain what was going on when he didn’t fully understand it himself?
“I… I don’t feel right,” he finally said, his voice trembling slightly. “I think something’s wrong with me.”
His grandmother leaned forward, her expression softening. “Oh, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just going through changes. It’s completely normal for girls your age. Trust me, everything will settle down soon. You’re just blossoming, that’s all.”
Blossoming? Evan’s heart sank at the word. That wasn’t what this felt like. It felt like he was losing himself, piece by piece, every day becoming more and more like someone else—someone his grandmother wanted him to be.
But no matter how much he tried to push back, to resist, it seemed like the changes were inevitable. The diet, the clothes, the way people treated him—everything was pushing him further away from who he used to be.
And deep down, Evan couldn’t shake the fear that soon, there wouldn’t be anything left of him at all.
YOU ARE READING
Grandmothers Mistake
FantasyA boy named evan has to go stay with his grandmother for 6 months due to his parents going away for a business trip. When evan arrives at his grandma's house he expects everything to be normal, but they were going to be far from normal...
