Trish was already counting the days until she could move out. She hated living in a small, conservative town, she hated living under her parents’ roof with their backwards rules, and she hated hated that everyone here thought that she was some kind of slutty succubus.

Sure, she had had sex with a few guys, but she was hardly some kind of craven whore. And yet she was constantly getting calls from the parents of “good Christian boys” who she had “tempted to sin” and she was tired of all the harassment and ostracism. It wasn’t like the other girls her age were really waiting until marriage - they were just better at hiding their actions. Better at being hypocrites more like.

“Are you really going to school dressed like that?” her mom asked her on her way out.

“Um, yes, that was the plan,” Trish said.

“You’re not going to be dress-coded for this like you were last week, are you?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Trish rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have been dress-coded for that anyways! I’ve read the student manual, and I was well-within the dress code. I can’t help that I’m an early bloomer.”

Her mom just shook her head. “You shouldn’t be distracting the other boys, Patricia.”

“They shouldn’t be looking at me when they’re supposed to be focused on school work! And it’s Trish - we’ve gone over this a hundred times!”

Trish left the house before she had to hear another lecture, and slammed the door behind her.

Her mom and dad exchanged a look.

“I just don’t know where we went wrong with that girl, Harold.”

Her dad put down his paper, and crossed his arms. “Maybe we should actually take my brother up on his offer? You remember that app he mentioned to us last time, Elaine?”

Her mom stood in thought, several emotions passing over her face, before finally hanging her head in shame. “I had been hoping she would mellow out with time, become the good girl we had always raised to to be, but I don’t think we have a choice at this point. I think we’ve got to talk to you brother.”

* * *

Trish went through the day, and was conscious of the effect her outfit had on the other students. Boys eyed her greedily, and girls gave her dirty looks. She was a bit of a loner here, she had one friend, Stacy, the resident goth slut. Stacy went even further than Trish, and intentionally overstepped the dress code.

At lunch, Trish and Stacy ate together.

“Why do you still care about what all these people think?” Stacy said.

“What makes you think I still care?” Trish said.

Stacy put down her spoon and gave Trish a look. “You care! Of course you care, I see the way you act when you overhear people talking in the hall. Plus, you haven’t given up on avoiding detentions and dress-coding like me.”

Trish shook her head. “I envy you, Stacy. I really do. But I’m just trying to keep my head down as much as possible, focus on my studies and get a full ride to a great college somewhere.”

Stacy smiled. “Well, you’re top of the class, so I’m sure you’ll succeed. I can’t do what you do, school was never really my strong suit.”

The rest of the day passed much the same as before, and Trish finally went home to find that someone had put a wrapped present in the entryway. She picked it up curiously, and saw that it was addressed to her. From her parents?

She ripped it open, and saw-

“Surprise!” her mom said, coming out of the kitchen. “We finally got you the smart phone you’ve been wanting!”

“Mom, I-, I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe it, why the change of heart?” Trish asked. Her parents had said she wouldn’t have a smart phone until she was 18. It made keeping up with friends (well, Stacy) so much harder.

“Well, your dad and I were talking, and we decided it would be convenient for you to have a smart phone, within reason. But we expect you to keep your grades up from here on out!”

Trish was ecstatic. Her parents never budged on things like this. She jumped up and down, hugged her mom for the first time in ages and bounded up to her room to get started with her new smart phone.

She turned the phone on, and saw the start up screen, a swirling mass of colors…

Patricia blinked and looked around her room. When had it gotten dark? She had started up her phone, and then…? She looked down to see that all the apps she wanted were on her home screen already. She didn’t remember setting it up, but that was fine.

Patricia realized that she didn’t know Stacy’s number, so she pocketed her phone and decided to work on her homework. Where had the time gone?

* * *

The next day, Patricia picked out a conservative outfit that she hadn’t worn in ages. It was feminine, but modest, the skirt going down to the ankles, and the loose top deemphasizing her curves. Perfect, if she wore something like this, she’d avoid distracting her classmates, and wouldn’t give boys the wrong impression.

Patricia walked down the stairs, and saw her parents. She hugged the two of them, and sat down for dinner.

“Papa,” she said, the words sounding strange in her mouth. Didn’t she usually use a neutral ‘father’? “Papa, could you drive me to school today? I want to get there early.”

He smiled at her. “Of course, Patricia. And might I say, you’re looking lovely today. So beautiful, like your mother!”

Patricia smiled at the compliment. She wanted to be just like her mother.

Patricia ate breakfast with her parents (!), and then her dad drove her to school. They had a conversation on the way.

“Patricia, your mom and I have missed you at church the last few years,” he said.

Trish looked at him, anger flaring up. “Father, didn’t we already say the last word on this? I’m not going to go back to church - it’s a waste of time, and I want to sleep in on Sundays.”

Her father frowned. “Patricia, did I hear you get a message just now?”

Trish hadn’t heard a notification, but she opened up her phone…

And before she knew it, Patricia was at school.

“I do hope you’ll reconsider your position on joining us at church,” her father said. “Have a good day at school.”

Patricia nodded, “Oh, papa! I’m sorry I was so mean earlier. Of course I’ll join you and mama at church! I’ve felt so empty the last year, and I realize I’ve been trying to fill the God-shaped hole in my life with so many different idols, but none of them can compare to Jesus’ offer of eternal salvation.”

Her father smiled. “I’m so happy to hear that! You don’t know how happy it’ll make your mother to know you said that.”

Patricia gave her papa a hug, and walked into school. Patricia noticed that a lot of people were staring, and murmuring as she passed. They were wondering aloud who she thought she was trying to fool. Her brow creased. She wasn’t trying to fool anyone. What did they mean?

Her teachers were just as surprised, although they did a better job showing it.

When lunch rolled around, Stacy sat down across from Patricia looking a little angry. Patricia couldn’t help but notice how skimpy Stacy’s goth outfit was.

“What the heck are people saying about you acting like a goody-two-shoes, Trish?” Stacy asked.

Patricia tried not to cringe at the shortened name. It was so informal. So beneath a good girl like her.

“Stacy, let’s not worry about that for now. I’ve got great news!” she said happily.

“Oh?”

“My parents finally got me a smart phone!” she said happily pulling it out.

“That’s awesome!” Stacy said. “Now we can communicate using something other than email or calling your parent’s landline.”

“Want to check it out?” Patricia said.

Stacy took the phone from Patricia, and turned it on. A swirling light started to play across Stacy’s face. Somehow, this didn’t seem strange to Patricia. In fact she knew exactly what to say.

“Stacy, can you hear me?” she said.

Stacy’s eyes were transfixed on the phone, and she spoke as if from far away. “Yes.”

“Stacy, are you and I bad girls?” she said.

“Yes,” Stacy said breathlessly.

“Are you and I virgins?” Patricia said.

“No,” Stacy said, as if the question was ludicrous.

“Oh, dear,” Patricia said. “I had a feeling something was wrong. Your memories are wrong, Stacy.”

“Memories… wrong?”

“That’s right. You aren’t recalling things correctly at all. You and I, why we’re perfect virgins.”

Stacy shook her head. “No… not virgins. Had boyfriends? Had lots of sex.”

“You’re remembering wrong, Stacy,” Patricia said. “You’re a good girl.”

“I’m… a good girl,” she said.

“That’s right, say it again. Tell me what kind of girl you are.”

“I’m a good girl.”

“Good, and do good girls have sex before marriage?” Patricia asked.

“No.”

“So if you’re a good girl, would you have had sex before marriage?”

A long pause, a confused expression masking deep thought. “No.”

“That’s right, now answer me again. Have you ever had sex before marriage?”

Stacy shook her head softly. “Of course not, I’m a good girl.”

“That’s right. That means that all your memories of having sex are false memories.”

“False memories.”

Patricia continued. “Yes, false memories. And you shouldn’t have false memories in your head.”

“No false memories…”

“Yes, so I want you to forget all about having sex. You’re a perfect virgin. Your parents pulled you out of health class when they were talking about what boys and girls do together, you’re too young for such things. You’re a good girl, and you’ll find out everything you need to know about sex when you’re married.”

“Forget about sex… Wait until I’m married…” Stacy said like a zombie.

Patricia smiled. This was going so well. Instinct was guiding her through the process, and soon her friend was going to be free of all those nasty false memories, just like she was!

“Now Stacy, do good girls dress like hussies?” she asked.

“No, of course not.”

“So why are you dressed like a hussy?”

Stacy frowned. “I’m not… dressed like a hussy. I like these clothes.”

“Goths are Satanic though, aren’t they. Good girls aren’t goths.”

Stacy considered these words for a while. “Good girls aren’t goths. I’m a good girl. I’m not a goth.”

Patricia smiled at how easy this was becoming. Soon Stacy would be the lovable Christian girl she always was. None of that nasty satanic brainwashing would be inside her innocent little head any more.

“What are you going to do when lunch is over?” Patricia asked.

“I’m going to go to the lost and found, get something more modest to wear,” Stacy said.

“Good! Happy to hear it. Now wake up when I snap my fingers.”

Snap.

Stacy blinked and looked around.

“That’s a really cool phone,” Stacy said, handing it back to Patricia. Then she looked down at her outfit and frowned. “What am I wearing?”

Patricia patted her on the shoulders. “I was wondering the same thing to be honest. Did someone else dress you up today?”

“Maybe,” Stacy said confused. “I’d never wear something like this, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Patricia said. “We’re good girls. We don’t tempt men to sin, we’d never do something like that.”

Stacy nodded with approval. They finished their lunch, and when the bell rang, Stacy went to the lost and found for a change of outfits.

* * *

As she was heading home at the end of the day, a boy, Luke from the football team, approached Patricia.

“Hey, Trish. You haven’t been reaching out, want to do another quickie in the boys bathroom with me?” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Patricia looked appalled at him.

“You must have the wrong girl!” she said appalled. “I don’t know the first thing about sex. I’m a good girl.”

Luke looked at her incredulously. “Look, the way you give head, there’s no way you’re an amateur. If you don’t want to fuck me, you can just say so.”

Patricia shook her head. “I see, you have false memories, just like poor Stacy did. Here, why don’t you look at my new phone…”

* * *

A year later.

Patricia had dreaded the day she might have to leave her small town. The idea of leaving all the amazing, virtuous people she had grown up with made her stomach do sickly sommersaults. So when she had turned 18, it had been an easy decision to stay and find a job at the local gas station. She didn’t need a career anyways, when she got married, she was going to be the perfect housewife, and raise her kids on the milk of God’s wisdom.

Patricia and Stacy lead a Wednesday Bible study, and went to church every week. At first, the rest of the town had been resistant in accepting the new purity of Patricia and Stacy, but one by one she had helped clear up all their old, false memories about her and Stacy, and she was soon a pillar of the community.

Luke was slowly courting Patricia, and treated her like a perfect gentleman. She thought that he was going to propose soon, and she couldn’t wait for her wedding day to experience the miracle of sex the way God intended!

As Patricia happily cleaned up the floor of the little convenience store attached to the gas station, she saw a woman who was a little older than her come into the store. The woman had a tattoo on her arm, and was wearing a tank top that her boobs practically spilled out of.

Patricia walked up to the woman.

“Hello, miss. Would you please look at my phone for a second? I think you might be misremembering some things about yourself.”