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I felt the sunlight on my pale skin and opened one of my blue eyes. After a few moments of haziness, I realized that the day had finally arrived! I snatched the ripped T-shirt and shorts I'd worn yesterday just in time to hear the doorbell. So I dashed downstairs to meet the postman.

The Box of Tricks had finally arrived! Most people don't believe in magic, but I do, and I had a really good feeling about this. I threw myself across the lobby and snatched my latest parcel out of the postman's hands. I'm sure he didn't mind a cute girl crashing into him! After signing for the package and climbing off of the bewildered civil servant, I made my way back up to my apartment to enjoy the rest of my day off.

How rude of me - I never introduced myself! My name is Alice and I'm nineteen years old. I'm rather tall and skinny, with long black hair. Some of my school friends were goths, so naturally I joined in. I quickly dropped all the depressing stuff, but I maintained a bit of an obsession with the occult. Since then, I always wanted to be a witch, but none of my family believe me. They just think I'm fooling about. My best friend Lucy just thinks these things were a waste of money, which only makes me try harder to prove her wrong.

I opened up the box on my bed, and started taking out the contents. There was so much weird stuff, and it just kept coming! I pushed my hands deeper and deeper inside, until I realized that there was no way all of this could have fit into the box. I glanced at the mirror in my room, and got a massive shock. My arms were gone! About two feet of flesh and bone had vanished into a box no more than six inches high. I could still feel my fingers when I moved them from… somewhere, so I yanked myself out of there. Well, you know your magic kit is up to scratch when it's bigger on the inside!

I lay back on my bed, kicking the box away and picking up an instruction manual. It was a hardback book, and really looked the part, like a prop from a fantasy movie. However, it didn't seem thick enough to be a magical tome. As I opened it, it filled itself with a spidery scrawl I could only just make out. I dropped it in surprise! But you have to expect this sort of thing when you use magic, so I had a closer look. It seemed to be an index, sorted into 'classes', with specific spells in not-quite-alphabetical order under each one. I scanned through it backwards (a habit of mine), reading aloud any headings I could make out.
"Transformation? That could get ugly... Performance? I'd need a volunteer for the audience! Necromancy? Sounds messy… Aha! Alchemy! If that works, that'll be spectacular, but if it goes wrong, it's not going to hurt, is it?"

When I touched the entry I wanted, the writing in the book faded away, to be replaced by detailed instructions and diagrams. It didn't help that I couldn't tell what half of the words were supposed to say. So I grabbed all the flasks, vials and tubes I had found, and carried them down to the kitchen. As I sat up on the table, I wished I had a dry ice machine. It's all about looking the part, you know?

After almost an hour of getting precisely nowhere, I gave up. Or, at least, I tried to. I couldn't feel the floor with my legs anymore. I didn't want to look down, fearing I'd shrunk myself, or teleported myself up a cliff face! I took a deep breath, and risked a glance. Well, you could say that I was a bit off. From my knees down, my legs had turned into solid gold, as if I'd stepped into a debauched paddling pool. Freaky, right? I couldn't believe it either, so I gave my knee a tap. The joint let out a dull noise, but I didn't feel anything at all! Panicking, I grabbed the book and touched 'petrification'. As I was waiting for the book to rewrite itself, I stared down and watched the gold work it's way up my thighs, like designer tentacles. The page had filled, and I scanned through the page, discovering that spells like this one normally revert after 12 hours. I breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a gasp as the cold metal reached my vagina. The icy touch worked its way into me, the feeling quickly numbing as the nerves petrified. The solidified skin pushed against still-living parts further up, which I couldn't help noticing felt really, really good. I went to give myself some help down there, but just succeeded in petrifying my right hand, too.

Snapping out of it, I yanked my frozen digits out of my pants, and blushed with embarrassment. A statue of a wanker might work fine in an art gallery, but it's a bit out of place on a table in student accommodation. I pulled my shorts up around my pert ass with my softer left hand. Realizing that the rest of my plans for the day were falling apart, I shoved the book between my right fingers and flicked through it for a cure. By the time I had balanced the document on my smooth hand, the gold had reached my nipples. The chill of the metal pushed them out into rock-hard cones, while it's caress managed to distract me from a remedy yet again. Rather than explore this exciting new development, I thought I'd better look the part for my upcoming day as a sculpture. To that end, I posed the few parts still under my control into what I thought was an intelligent, statuesque pose. I twisted my rapidly cooling shoulder until my left hand was on my hips and I pulled a quizzical face towards the book in my right, as if I had planned this all along. The gold had reached my throat now, and I realized that I hadn't been breathing for the past few minutes. Nevertheless, I had to fight down my gag reflex.

The last thing to go through my mind for twelve hours brought a smug grin to my face; the transformation hadn't hurt a bit, and for the rest of the day I would be quite the spectacle.