Destiny Swap Ritual

Upon returning to my dormitory, I sat at the table and looked in my mirror.

A pale and colorless face with sunken cheeks and bulging eyeballs reflected at me. There was a grim aura around me, and it looked like I was on the verge of death.

I may not be a divine beauty by any means, but I was blessed with vibrant eyes and defined features, often praised for my fair skin tone as well.

My skin was usually supple and glowed, nothing like my current dull and coarse skin tone.

Job remarked that something evil had been done to me, swapping my fate with the other person.

With that, I was left with nothing, which was how I ended up in such a miserable situation.

He made sure to give me an amulet for protection before I left.

I looked around the dormitory.

All privacy curtains in the other bunk beds were shut other than mine.

My best friend, Sybille Mather, was the only one who checked up on me when I came back. The rest remained cooped up in their bed, not speaking to me.

I had always worn my family’s amulet wherever I went. The only times I would ever remove it was when I had to take a shower where I would place it at my bed or my table. This meant the only ones who could ever get to it were my dorm mates.

Job told me that if I wanted to reverse what had been done to me, I had to find the person who did this to me.

Otherwise, my health and fortune were going to continue its gradual decline. Even if I were to outlast my illness, I was going to be haunted by evil spirits which would eventually bring death!

I glanced at Sybille watching a TV series on her bed. She had been my friend since we were children.

When I was in high school, my father’s business was at its peak.

Since my parents were rarely home, Sybille’s parents took care of me instead.

Eventually, they became my godparents and were the ones who helped me sort out the funeral arrangements when my parents passed away.

What was most notable was that no major changes had happened to Sybille’s family in the recent period.

I turned my attention to the other two beds when Anette Rolland crawled out of her bed, too.

She seemed concerned about me. “Geneva, have you eaten? I made some extra food. Do you want me to heat it for you?”

Although Anette came from a lowly background, I’ve always known her to be a kind and gentle girl.

During a recent sale, I made sure to give her some extra skincare products that I bought. She would always help me out in school by lending her notes and we would go to the cafeteria together sometimes.

The privacy curtain of the fourth bed was pried open violently after hearing our voices.

“What are you all yapping about? Cut it out. I need my beauty sleep!”

Helena Pearson was the one who occupied the fourth bed.

She came from a good family, though her family's wealth paled compared to mine. What was interesting was that our grades were largely similar. Even our appearances were nearly identical.

Despite that, we hardly got along.

Ever since my parents died, I noticed that her family’s circumstances had been improving gradually.

On the day I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer, she proudly announced that she was dating a rich boy who once tried to get with me.

Since then, even her daily outfits reflected the ascend of her social status.

While I remained silent, Helena ripped off her beauty mask and suddenly tackled Anette without warning.

Then, she darted a sharp look at me and snarled, “Piss off!”

Insulted, I jerked up from my seat and clutched her arm tightly before hissing through clenched teeth, “What did you do that for?”

Helena seemed appalled.

“Is there something wrong with your head?”

Before I could even retort, she jabbed a finger at me and started ruthlessly insulting me. “You were the one who kept him hanging and refused his advances. All I did was chat with him! We’re a perfect match for each other.

“Know your place and leave us alone! Were you hoping to latch onto him and his money now that your family has gone bankrupt?”

I was stunned by the accusations and soon realized she was talking about the boy who was into me previously.

She gauged my reaction. Thinking she had struck a nerve, she sneered condescendingly at me, “You deserve this. You were the one who didn’t cherish him when you still could. I have nothing to apologize for!”

With that, she shrugged my hand away and stomped into the bathroom to wash her face.

I had minored in psychology for a semester and was familiar with psychoanalysis.

Her reaction toward me was very drastic, but I could tell that the only thing she harbored resentment against me for was her boyfriend.

What if she was not the suspect?

Sybille rolled out of her bed and took me by my hand with a slight frown. “What’s wrong, Geneva?”