"Ugh!" You let out a snarl as you slammed the door to your house. This day had truly been a day from hell. You missed your bus and were late for class, forgot to do the essay for another, failed the recent literature midterm, and to top it all off, you lost your student card. "Seriously, this day can suck it!"
"Amy, is that you?" You heard your long-term boyfriend Chris calling from the kitchen. You had met at a house party in your first year of college and hit it off splendidly. The two of you had started dating shortly afterwards, and been together ever since. After you moved out of the dorms, you decided to rent a house together. Honestly, it was one of the few things that seemed to be going right lately.
Chris came out of the kitchen to see what was the matter. He was tall, with short blonde hair and blue eyes. A frequent gym goer, it was surprising to a lot of people that he was working towards his CPA in college, as he really didn't seem the type. He was also quite soft-spoken and laid back; perhaps too laid back, if you were honest. It was a good thing he had you to keep him on the straight and narrow.
He pulled you into his arms, and you leaned up to give him a kiss. He pushed your shoulder length brown hair over your ears, and wrapped his strong arms around your small shoulders. As he pulled away, he looked into your green eyes and asked, "Bad day?"
You let out a soft snort. "You have no idea."
You sniffed the air, and looked at Chris accusingly. "What's that smell?"
Chris looked a mite sheepish as he answered. "That would be my homemade ravioli, with a side of garlic bread and brownies for dessert."
"Damn it, Chris, what did I say about carbs!?" Again with this! You'd tried a number of times to make him understand why carbs were a bad thing, but the pasta junkie just refused to listen. "If I keep eating like that, I'll be as big as Jenna!"
Chris rolled his eyes. He'd heard this argument a thousand times before. "You're not going to gain 100 pounds from eating one plate of ravioli. You're built like a stick anyway, so it's not like it would hurt. What's enjoyable about eating like a rabbit, anyway?"
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. "I can't believe you said that to me! You want me to get fat, is that it!? You're jealous of Brad's land whale and want one of your own!?"
Chris' own temper was starting to flare a bit. "Don't put words in my mouth. That is NOT what I said, and don't you dare attack Jenna like that just because you're mad."
Brad and Jenna had been their friends almost as long as they'd been dating. Brad had been the star running back until he tore his Achilles tendon. Fortunately, he was far from just another dumb jock, and was currently working on his degree in Criminology, with plans to enter law enforcement after graduation. It was while he was recuperating that he met Jenna, who was assisting his physiotherapist at the time. After graduating with a degree in Kinesiology, she was currently working on her masters in order to become a physiotherapist herself.
And as the argument above suggested, Jenna was not a small woman by any stretch of the imagination. Nearly six feet tall, she weighed over 250 pounds. The weight was fairly evenly distributed around her body, though her booty and bust did take a bit more then their fair share. She had a pretty face framed by bright red hair, but this was all over-shone by her personality. It would have been simply impossible to find a kinder, sweeter woman in the world, and Chris was fully justified rising to her defense.
In truth, you knew that your attack was unfair, but now that your dander was up, you refused to back down. "Rising to her defense? What a shock. Heaven forbid you back your own girlfriend. I'm going to our room. You throw that filth away and make something healthy for the two of us. We're not building up our blubber to hibernate for the winter, like certain gingers I know!"
You stormed off to the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you. Almost immediately, you started to tear up. I shouldn't have said that, you thought as tears ran down your face. But how could you apologize now? If you did, you'd look weak, and then who would make any decisions around here? Chris? He'd just agree with whoever had spoken last, and feed you carbs until you couldn't walk. No, you had to stay strong, stay thin, and never back down when you were right. Your Mom didn't, and your Dad left her for his 21 year old secretary.
On a whim, you pulled out your phone and checked facebook. Daddy Dearest had posted photos of his newborn son, bringing you up to a total of four half-siblings. He and Mom only had me in ten years of marriage, and he has four with HER in less? And he smiles a lot more in these photos then he ever did with Mom.
You throw your phone across the room. Mom gained ten pounds and he left her for some hussy half his age. I won't be weak. I won't, I won't, I won't!
******
Chris stood in the kitchen, shaking with anger. Though he was usually pretty good at hiding his emotions, Amy had pissed him right off.
She had no right to speak like that, he thought. Directly attacking him was one thing, but Jenna? The woman had come and picked them both up at 4 in the morning when their car had broke down on the back roads in the middle of winter, with only the directions "just past the burned down barn" to go by.
Chris wasn't sure what to do. He loved Amy dearly; he even had his Grandmother's ring in a box hidden in the attic, ready for his planned proposal to her. But her personality could be so acidic when she got like this. She had a tongue like a razor, and was a total control freak. He couldn't have a long-term relationship with someone like that, no matter how much he loved her. But neither did he want to leave her.
At this point, Chris decided, there was only one thing left to try. He walked to the small den to retrieve a very different sort of ring.
When the couple had moved into the house, Amy had proceeded to redecorate every room, but Chris had been adamant about the den. If he was only going to have one room, it was going to be this one. The den seemed like it had been transplanted straight from the Victorian era. Tall bookcases of dark wood and brass ran along the walls, and his Grandfather's old oak desk filled most of the floor space on one side. Chris went to the desk, drawing his key chain and unlocking the lower drawer. He pulled out a lacquered wood box and set it on the desktop.
His Grandparents had told him for years that his family was descended from magicians, findsmen, and oracles. Of course, he hadn't believed it, but if anything in his blood could help him out of the situation he currently found himself in, he'd change his tune in a hurry.
Unlocking the box, he opened it up and revealed a whole bevy of magical paraphernalia. Rings, talismans, charms, and an old wand were filling the box to the brim. While it might be harsh, he was going to give Amy a taste of her own medicine. Make her see what it was like to live as what she hated, and hopefully she'd learn from it. Chris thought, She may never forgive me for this. I hope she does, but she really needs this.
Now, what ring should he use?
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