Carly was your typical entitled girl, a spoiled queen bee who ran the college on a leash. Professors bent around her demands, students either worshipped her or suffered her sharp tongue, and she never cared what people thought—because in her mind, they all had to obey her anyway. She was untouchable.

That is, until the day she was forced into community service.

The college had assigned a group of students to volunteer at a local orphanage, and Carly, always looking for easy credits without lifting a finger, joined the others. She walked in with her head held high, sneering at the peeling paint on the walls and the smell of baby powder in the air. To her, this wasn’t a noble duty—it was beneath her.

For the first hour, Carly barely lifted a hand, barking orders at the other students and rolling her eyes whenever a child tried to tug her sleeve for attention. But then, while “supervising” a few toddlers, she grew irritated when a small 4-year-old girl had an accident. The poor child, red-faced and sobbing, clutched at Carly’s skirt for comfort. Instead of helping, Carly shoved her away and scolded her harshly.

“Stop acting like a baby,” Carly snapped, her voice sharp enough to make the child wail louder. “You’re disgusting.”

That was the final straw for one of the other volunteers—a quiet student who had been the target of Carly’s cruelty for years. She had been mocked, humiliated, and belittled by Carly countless times. Something inside her finally snapped. With an icy glare, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

The world seemed to freeze for Carly in that instant. A strange warmth rippled through her chest, racing down her arms and legs. Her designer clothes suddenly hung loose, sleeves sliding over shrinking arms, the waistband sagging around her hips. Carly stumbled forward, gasping, as her legs shortened and her shoes clattered to the ground. Her long, styled hair seemed to climb back into her scalp, turning into a fine, messy bob with a childish ribbon.

Her body softened, rounded, and compressed, her college-aged curves disappearing as baby fat puffed out her cheeks. Her fingers grew chubby and uncoordinated. When she opened her mouth to scream, the sound that came out was no longer commanding and cruel, but high-pitched, trembling, and childish.

"No! Me a big gowwwl! Not a baybee!" she wailed, but her words tumbled out slurred and broken, sounding like the babbling protests of a toddler to everyone else in the room.

Her transformation was humiliatingly complete when her bladder gave way. A dark spot spread across her too-big skirt, and a warm puddle formed beneath her as she stood frozen in shock. The smell of ammonia rose into the air, and Carly’s eyes went wide with horror. The once-untouchable queen bee of the campus now stood as a helpless four-year-old, crying uncontrollably as the others looked on.

The student who had cursed her leaned down with a cruel smile. “Who’s the baby now?” she whispered, leaving Carly sobbing on the floor.

From that day on, Carly’s life was cursed. She was no longer a feared, untouchable college tyrant—she was just another child living in the orphanage. The magic ensured everyone saw her only as a normal four-year-old with a weak bladder and endless accidents. Whenever she tried to explain who she really was, her words melted into nonsense baby-talk. To the world, she was nothing but a needy, fragile little girl.

She could remember everything—her status, her college life, her power—but trapped inside her tiny body, unable to make anyone understand, Carly was helpless. Each day brought fresh humiliations: teachers making her nap with the other kids, caretakers scolding her for accidents, other children mocking her when she cried.

This was her life now, cursed to be what she had once despised. Forever a child. Forever treated as a baby.