. Skye 20 Years Old

Once upon a time, a young woman named Skye, who'd newly celebrated her twentieth birthday, was readying herself for a much-anticipated dinner date with her boyfriend, Philip. Before they could depart, a knock came at the front door. It was Cynthia, Phil's 50-year-old aunt, who asked, "Can I borrow your phone, hun? I need to call your mom." Although Phil was a tad reluctant, aware that an average phone call for his Aunt Cynthia could easily evolve into an hour-long discussion, he handed his precious device over nonetheless. The inevitable fate materialised; an hour went by, and still, there was no sign of the phone, or the end of Aunt Cynthia's phone conversation. Growing restless, Skye thought she might sneak the phone away from Cynthia without disturbing her. Quietly, she slipped into Cynthia’s room where she'd noticed the mature woman leaving her purse earlier. Sure enough, the purse was there, with Phil's phone nestled right inside. As she picked up the purse in haste, it accidentally swung over her shoulder, and at the same time, her foot got caught in a pair of Cynthia's low wedges that were lying listlessly on the floor. Suddenly, a strange sensation spread through Skye's body. Her feet started to feel tight in her trainers, and when she looked down, it appeared as if her feet had aged decades and adopted the appearance of Cynthia’s. She gasped as she noticed herself growing shorter, and to her sheer disbelief, her outfit had absurdly transformed into one of Cynthia’s dresses. To escalating peculiarity, a necklace likewise appeared around her neck, identical to one Cynthia received as a gift from her fiancé. A sudden wave of confusion and fear flooded Skye. She fought the force that seemed to be replacing her memories with Cynthia’s. The once clear image of her beloved boyfriend was getting fuzzy, replaced with feelings of familial affection. "Phil is so attrac—hold on. How inappropriate of me to think of him like that," she exclaimed. "Phil is my nephew!" Regaining her senses, she found herself in Phil's room, slightly confused. By the corner, she noticed her purse and wedges. Slipping her feet into the wedges, she picked up her purse, swinging it over her shoulder. Then, she spotted Phil’s phone on the floor and felt a rush of irritation. "That Phil," she huffed, "not letting me finish my call." Deciding that enough was enough, she resolved to give Phil a piece of her mind — and ask for Skye to be sent home. Now firmly ensconced in the persona of Aunt Cynthia, she left the room, ready to play disciplinarian, a role she was all too familiar with.