The Wrong Treatment

My family had always been into some weird shit. I'm not talking anything illegal, more like extraordinary. Some might call it eastern medicine, but when I was growing up, I just liked to think of it as magic. My grandparent's store had been built many generations ago and was chock-full of the strangest mystic drugs and potions that could be found on earth.

As I grew up, I went from loving this fact about my family, to hating it. Kids could be mean at school, and since third grade, the age many kids really associate who is who, I began getting picked on because of my family's heritage. At show and tell, I stopped bringing neat family possessions and did my best to distance myself from that life.

Time flew by and, where some kids grew out of the bullying phase, some just grew into bigger assholes. Starting high school, I met Brent Young. Brent was pretty popular, but his parents were doctors, so when he found out that my family owned a shop selling other types of medicines, he would NOT let it go. What started off as gentle ribbing, ended up becoming extremely annoying and intrusive. I couldn't walk down a hallway without him shouting out. "Hey man, you gonna try and sell me some horse shit and tell me I can fly?"

I made the mistake of confronting him one day, and that was a complete mistake. I don't remember the exact words but something rude was said and I pushed him. Since we were in front of his girlfriend and friends, he decided to make an example out of my stupidity and beat me to the floor. Ever since, for the last 2 years, Brent has used his fist to explain his problems with me. And since I didn't have nearly the same number of friends, persuasion, or strength as his varsity football body had endowed him with, my anger grew and grew.

I'm now a senior and in my last couple months of school. I just turned 18, and I'm more than ready for college and to get out of this stupid town with its judgmental folk. That is, I WAS ready to be out of town, and especially out of Brent's eye sight. But the prick had other plans. That week I had been walking to class, using a path Brent hardly ever used, when I saw his friends step around the corner of the hall. I did my best to ignore them, but they saw me and quickly circumvented my leaving.

"Hey man, we were just looking for you." One pulled out his cell phone and texted Brent. He showed up a minute later with the rest of his posse and girlfriend. He sneered a smug smile at me and stepped forward. "Hey buddy, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but hey... I'm gonna make the last few months of our friendship unforgettable."

With that he proceeded to search my backpack and take out my phone. "Oh, this looks fancy..."

"Don't, dude just..." I pleaded. He dropped it on the tile floor, and then pretended to not see it while stomping over it with his feet. I heard the crunch of the screen. It felt like everyone was laughing at me even though there hadn't been a lot of time for a crowd to gather...

That brings me to now though. After years of this bullshit, I am trying hard to think of a plan to get revenge. So far though, my ideas are either too drastic... "cut him up and throw him off the Empire State Building", or too tame... "dump paint on his car". Besides, I needed to do something that wouldn't obviously point back to me...

I thought for hours until dinner. Only taking a break to go downstairs and eat with my family. My father spoke of work and my mother spoke of my grandparent's store, which she would sometimes help with part time. A news story played in the back about a sex scandal involving some man and how his entire life and career had unraveled and been destroyed because of it...

And then the light bulb blinked. I rushed through dinner to get back to my room and figure out the details. Admittedly, my first ideas were horrible. I thought about hiring a hooker to seduce Brent and then have his girlfriend catch him in the act... But then I realized, a high school guy having sex with another girl would not ruin his reputation at all, especially if the hooker was hot enough to entice him. Then I thought, what if it was a guy. What if I was able to trick Brent into sleeping with a dude. Despite our society's acceptance of gays, Brent's reputation would turn into something he never wanted. I tried to think of what I could do. Follow him home and then have a guy suck his dick? Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy...

And then the second light bulb blinked. As much as I disliked what my family name had put me through in school, the magic possibilities of some of their potions were amazing. And although I was still not entirely convinced my family history was legit, I had seen "love potions" on the shelves before. And if it didn't work, who would care?

The next morning, I stopped by my grandparent's shop. It had been a few months since I'd seen it last, but nothing had changed. It still had the old musty yet mystical feel about it. I walked the aisles, pretending to feign interest, but really scouring the titles.

"Hey champ" said my grandpa from behind the desk, "did your mom send you over to see how we're doing?

"Can't a grandson just want to see his grandpa?" I said off the top of my head.

He gave me a skeptical but caring look. "Well how have you been doing?"

"I'm alright..." I said, distracted. I was quickly realizing that there were too many potion titles to read through. If I was going to do this, I'd need help.

"Ok grandpa, do you want to know why I'm really here... it's cause I like a girl."

Now, it's true I liked a girl, actually I liked a few, however I had only dated two and both hadn't lasted long.

"Oh?" my grandpa said. "So, what are you looking for?"

It felt awkward asking, but I was fueled by my hatred for Brent. "Is there like a love potion..."

My grandpa looked at me judgmentally. "Now Ryan, I'm sure you wouldn't want to be with someone who didn't want to be with you."

"Shit," I thought. Now my grandpa thinks I'm a perv. "No... I mean," I sputtered, "is there like a temporary one, for like a few hours, just so I have the courage to ask her out without a really embarrassing denial? I wouldn't do anything bad."

He eyed me again, and I couldn't tell what he was processing. "Listen Ryan, love is extremely powerful, and luckily enough the love potions we sell here are extremely not."

"We'd never put a true love potion on the selling aisle. Too much damage could be done." I'd heard this speech before when I was younger and asked why I couldn't get rid of my broken arm faster.

"So, there's nothing?" I asked.

He slackened his jaw and nodded his head. "Well, I might have a confidence booster for you." He checked a row of jars next to him. "Must be in one of the crates still."

He left his desk and went to the back of the shop. Bummed, I waited for a few minutes. When he didn't come out, I walked behind the counter and went to the back of the store. There were a few twisted pathways. "Gramps?" I called out.

I didn't hear anything, so I started walking randomly down the hallways until I passed a room labeled "Mild" - it was locked, "Moderate" followed, and last was "Strong: Not for Sale."

I was about to turn around when I noticed the last door stood ajar.

Curiosity pushed me to open the door. It was dark, but light emanated from a single lightbulb on the ceiling. On the shelves were hundreds of little vials. All of them labeled "Poison". I realized I had stridden too far until my eyes caught sight of a vial with a heart on it. I carefully took it off the dusty shelf and inspected it. "For an unbinding love, that will not break, until the hour is of late."

I was torn. Part of me saw the word poison and thought, will this kill? The other saw the description and it was perfect. I grabbed the vial and snuck quickly back to the front. My grandfather came out a minute later.

"Sorry, it took some time," he said. I could tell he'd had to move some crates, he was huffing and puffing. But he handed me the innocent vial labeled "Confidence," and I took it graciously. "Thanks!"

As I ran out the store, I wondered what to do next. Later at school, I pulled out the 'poison' love vial and read the full description. It said, in order to work it needed to be ingested by only one of the subjects; the other subject had to be on his mind, though. If I was able to get this into his drink, and then shout out some random dudes name, it might just work...

After a minute I realized how stupid the whole idea sounded. To get him to ingest it I needed another plan. I knew that Tuesdays were football practice. And even though everyone used the same water hose, they also brought their own bottles. If I waited till everyone was on the field, I could try to lace Brent's water, and hope to God I wasn't caught.

I could describe in detail how amazingly it ended up working out, but to spare time, I'll just say the confidence booster really helped settle my nerves.

When I saw Brent hydrating himself after practice, I was almost giddy. He was talking to someone on the phone, but I figured, he must be thinking about one of his teammates since there were literally no girls around.

The rest of the day progressed as normal. I didn't know how long it would take to affect him, or whether it would at all. A part of me was just relieved I hadn't killed someone. Maybe I could eventually try again with a higher dose, since I had only used a few drops.

The next day was a bit odd, though. I was on high alert for anything suspicious concerning Brent and his possible response to my drugging him. He was at school... but when I passed him, he didn't even seem to notice me. He looked a bit pasty and weary. Oh shit, maybe I had made him sick. After school, instead of slumming around with his friends like usual, I watched him drive home immediately. He even screeched past the security guard.

The next day at school he seemed even more anxious. His hair was tousled, and the boldness he usually strutted around with was tapered. He seemed to be deep in thought. The only class we shared is English. And today we were going over all the books we'd read so far in high school. Someone was presenting on their sophomore years book of Oedipus. I saw Brent squirming in his seat. He left early the next period.

It wasn't until the third day that I knew something was up. Brent didn't come to school at all. When I saw his girlfriend and groupies talking about him, I didn't dare ask what they'd heard, but I caught them saying something about the flu. I decided maybe I should ride by his house to make sure he wasn't dying. On my way back home, I turned onto his street and parked a few doors down from his driveway. His rich parents could afford to live in style based on the size of the wannabe mansion. Sneaking around back, and ducking beneath the windows, I made my way to the corner and peer inside. The first person I made out, I assume, was his mother washing dishes in the kitchen. Her dirty blonde hair and hourglass figure were enough to make me drool. I could tell she was the prim and proper type. Scooting across the wall, careful not to give myself away, a dog next door started barking loudly, and I froze. After a minute, I worked up the courage to continue checking windows. It took me a couple tries till I finally found Brent's room. And what I saw caused my stomach to flip.

Brent was in his room. At first, I thought he was legitimately sick because there were tissues all over the floor. But then I saw Brent in front of his computer. He looked spent, but his shirt was off, and his pants were pooled around his ankles. Staring through the sun glinted glass, I eventually realized what I was watching. A horny teenage fucker jacking off like a mad man. Clenching my eyes shut, I fought back a gag. Taking a few breaths, I open them and concentrate on trying to see his screen. Was he looking at gay porn? Did the potion work? His butt blocked the screen and a few seconds later his body twitched before he collapsed on the chair behind him. The cum soaked rag fell to the floor, and he slammed the computer screen shut. Though he seemed blissful in the orgasm, his eyes rolled around exhaustively. Jesus, what the fuck is this?

I went home trying to forget the image of Brent in his room. To be honest, I didn't feel bad if the potion had made him sick, or into some masturbation maniac... he really REALLY deserved it. I just didn't want him to die, so I made a promise that if he wasn't in school the next day... I'd go back to my family's store.

The next day though, Brent was in school. The only weird thing was that in the morning someone dropped him off in a minivan, he didn't drive his own car. I watched him in between classes and he seemed much better. "Fuck... maybe he just got it out of his system..."

Then after school I saw Brent's girlfriend crying. She was walking dejectedly to her own car.

Word quickly got around school about the breakup. Apparently, Brent had just gotten tired of her. But instead of hooking up with some guy, he had just ended things.

The next few days annoyed me. Despite being single, Brent seemed to be happier than ever before. He had completely stopped messing with me, and his inner circle seemed just as confused by his happy demeanor as I was. It frustrated me. Maybe the vial had been mislabeled. From what I was seeing, Brent was developing into an even better athlete, better student, and even more responsible jock. Eventually I stopped scrutinizing everything he was doing. As long as he was out of my life, I would have to let my revenge plan die. That is, until a few weeks later when I walked past the football field as practice was letting out. My heart began palpitating as I remembered the love potion was still in the front pocket of my backpack. Maybe Brent simply required a stronger dose.

Sneaking onto the field and tampering with his bottle was rather easy, since everyone was distracted with finishing the last drill. But Brent apparently wasn't thirsty. I literally watched him drag his bag and water to the minivan that now ushered him to and from school.

And so, when I saw that same minivan the very next day pull up behind me in line, I observed it closely. Brent had jumped in the passenger seat and, by the long blonde hair of the person next to him I could tell it was probably his mom. As I continued waiting for the light to turn so that I could go home, I saw something peculiar. It looked like Brent and his mother were having a heated discussion. Brent's mother looked to be scolding him, shaking her head. Ha! He's in trouble for something...

I continued to watch the fight like some reality tv addict. His mother raised her finger at him. That's when Brent did something insane. I saw him lean forward and quickly kiss the driver. The driver immediately pushed him back, but instead of getting angrier, she looked worried. For a second her eyes flashed toward me. I knew she probably couldn't tell I had seen anything. The light turned green, and I had to turn left. I was stuck wondering about what I had seen the whole way home.

I had always assumed that the dirty blonde was Brent's mother, she obviously seemed too old to be a friend... Right? Watching someone through the rearview mirror isn't extremely accurate, maybe my eyes had played a strange trick on me. Maybe she wasn't the same lady from his house. I wasn't convinced though. I lay awake on my bed that night, completely perplexed.

The next morning, I parked in front of the "student drop off," and waited for Brent and his mother. When I saw the lime green minivan I squinted. Brent was pulling his backpack up from the backseat as they slowed down and stopped. From my angle I could tell they were probably exchanging goodbyes. His mother/lady seemed to be in a much better mood. They didn't kiss again, but she did stroke his arm as he prepared to leave the car. Did he wink at her? I thought so. I wasn't sure, but it seemed like he winked at his mom as he jumped out of the vehicle. As he walked away, she didn't immediately drive off. She smiled to herself and then looked into the mirror, primping her makeup and her hair.

I was starting to have a weird feeling about this whole thing. School went by drudgingly slow. After the final bell, I decided to pay another visit to Brent's house. I staked out, until I was sure he was probably home. As I skulked around the windows, at the side of the house, the first thing I saw was a middle-aged man sitting in front of a tv. He looked rather bored and his beer belly certainly made me associate him as a Homer Simpson. Guess a hot wife, money, and doctor's education, means you can say goodbye to fitness. As I walked around to the kitchen window, I saw no one. I continued to the other windows, saving Brent's room for last. I crossed my fingers hoping I wouldn't be witness to another masturbation session as I slowly lifted my head to see through the glass. What I saw utterly confused me. Brent and the blonde were lip locked in a passionate embrace. He was pressing her against the door to his room. His hand was scrunched down, deep into her pants, and she had her arms draped around his shoulders with one leg up and squeezing him closer. Her black top was still on, but uneven on her shoulders, so that her cleavage showed almost her entire bra.

They eventually broke the kiss and she grabbed his hand. She seemed flushed and rather conflicted about stopping but managed to pull his hand from between her legs. Her makeup was a bit smeared and I could see her red lipstick on the side of Brent's face. As she started to zip her pants, they both stiffened. For a moment, I thought they may have seen me. But since neither had looked toward the window I dismissed that possibility. Then I saw her straighten her shirt and try to fix her hair quickly. She pointed urgently at Brent to sit down. A second later, the door opened and the middle-aged man walked in. He seemed to be oblivious to the makeout session that had just occurred, but instead got into a conversation with the woman. While his back was turned to Brent, Brent began to stare directly at the woman and rub his crotch. She caught his eye and had to restrain a smile. Eventually she walked out with the older man, and Brent turned to his computer. I could see from his pants that he was maintaining a significant erection. As he began to search for porn I was about to turn away, since I'd seen that episode before. But that's when I noticed what specific porn he was watching. He was looking up "incest porn." Jesus...

I sped home and ran to my room. I argued with myself. Part of me wondering "What had I done..." Part of me thinking there was no possible way any powder could infect someone and force them to fuck their own relative. "Maybe it's his step mother..." "Maybe this is all just a coincidence..."

I couldn't shake the feeling. It wasn't guilt exactly, Brent was the fucking worst, it was just more like fear. As if someone would figure out what I had done. I was in shock for the rest of the day. I tried to concentrate on homework, but my mind kept jumping back to what I had witnessed. How serious was this? How long would it take to wear off?

As I lay in my bed before trying to fall asleep that night, I found a new dilemma. Usually, when unable to sleep, I masturbate and knock out. Today though, I was scared. As much as I hated Brent, and as much as I couldn't understand the whole situation, I couldn't deny that seeing such a naughty explicit show hadn't peaked my libidos interest. As I thought back to Brent's mother, her fantastic shined legs, and her bra fighting to contain her rotund twin torpedoes, I felt my penis fidget to life. What a sexy older lady.

The next day I woke up in a much better mood. I was finally happy. Even though I hadn't embarrassed Brent in front of the whole school, I think I was more than happy with the atrocity I had made. Brent and his family would never be the same.