Morgan Byrne had turned her parents into frogs. It was an accident of course! And if she knew how to turn them back, she would in a heartbeat! But as it stood, Morg had no idea how she had even turned them into frogs in the first place. She waved her arms, wiggled her fingers, even shouted a little before plopping down in front of the little green creatures and letting out a sob of frustration.

How could something like this happen?! The little girl thought despairingly. Maybe I’m just dreaming! Or… are my parents playing a prank on me? Morg held her head in her hands and thought back through the events of the evening.

The whole debacle had started mere moments ago when Morg’s parents had mentioned sending Morg to boarding school.

“Your music teachers each have endless praises for your talents, especially with the harp. And music aside, you are so so smart,” her mother had explained, “We just think that boarding school could be really wonderful for you, that it could be a place where you could really shine, don’t we dear?”

“Mmn,” her father had replied without looking up from his copy of The Maryland Press, the headline announcing in bold letters something about a typhoid outbreak in the Northeast. He puffed on his pipe and exhaled a long stream of fragrant smoke.

Morg knew that they just wanted the best for her, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but feel like her parents were trying to get rid of her. Like she was unwanted. She had already been having a terrible several weeks- persistent feelings of hopelessness, a constant state of drowsiness, and strange stomach pains had been bothering her for a while now, but her parents didn’t seem to take any of her complaints seriously. Morg frowned and looked down at her shoes, fighting back the tears welling up in her eyes. Her mother continued;

“We don’t want to force you to do anything, we just want to discuss your opportunities with you. We just think your talents would be wasted without the proper education, that’s wh–

“THERE’S NO WAY I’M GOING TO GO TO BOARDING SCHOOL!!” the little nine-year-old screeched at her parents while stamping her feet. Her face the epitome of a pout, Morg didn’t dare open her eyes. Her whole body tensed, anticipating backlash from her parents- her father’s harshly disappointed words, her mother’s slap to the face.

But to her pleasant surprise, nothing happened. Morg cautiously peeped her eyes open, still expecting some sort of rebuke. But her parents… had disappeared? Morg perked up, twisting and turning trying to figure out where her parents had gone when she realized- her parents’ clothes lay in heaps where their bodies had just been? Her mother’s tawny brown dress lay crumpled on the floor, her father’s suit and jacket sprawled across his chair…

Feeling utterly confused, Morg crouched down in front of her mother’s frilly dress, poking the fabric with a curious finger.

“AAH!”

Morg leapt back when the clothes moved on their own. With frightened eyes, Morg watched a slimy green creature emerge from beneath the dress. She couldn’t believe it. She snapped her head to where her father had been sitting, watching in horror as another croaking thing emerged from beneath the layers of her father’s clothes.

Morgan Byrne’s parents had turned into frogs.

And what’s worse- she was pretty sure she was the one who turned them! Their gooey green little bodies hopped around her feet as she stared, dumbstruck.

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Is this a joke?

“M-mom?? … Daaad?!” Morg checked behind the curtains, ran around the house looking for them but to no avail. She returned to the room she had left her parents in, a mounting sense of dread filling her heart.

A dream… this must be a dream, right?

Sucking in a breath, Morg slapped herself in the face, then peeked at the scene hopefully. Indeed the two little frogs still taunted her, hopping annoyingly about.

Still asleep, eh?

Morg pinched her forearm until blood welled up in two fingernail shaped grooves, but her surroundings didn’t change in the slightest. Was it really not a dream?

Okay.. If I did turn them into frogs… I can turn them back, right?

Morg stared intently at the green creatures, chanting inwardly, Turn back into my parents, turn back into my parents, turn back…

“Turn back! TURN BACK! ABRACADABRA!”

The creatures continued hopping stupidly by her feet. Growing increasingly anxious, Morg began trying every little thing she could think of- waving her arms and wiggling her fingers, shouting this and that and doing little dances around them… She even tried recreating the exact moments before they had become frogs. But of course, nothing worked.

Morg sank into a crouch, despondent.

First boarding school, now this… Were her parents really that intent on leaving her?

Suddenly, the rounder of the two frogs darted across her vision and would’ve escaped out the open window if she hadn’t immediately pounced, gently cupping the amphibian- she was pretty sure this one was her father- in her hands. She scooped up the other frog - her mother- and juggled their squishy slimy bodies between her limbs while looking for a suitable enough container to trap her parents in.

Her parents! She had really turned them into frogs!! She choked back another sob and continued hunting about. The three of them had been discussing Morg’s fate in the sitting room, a cozy room just large enough to hold a couch and two armchairs. Bookcases filled the walls and modest rugs decorated the hardwood floors. Warm fire cracked in the fireplace, the only sound to accompany Morg’s nervous breathing.

Ah! Perfect! Morg thought as she spotted an empty glass jar by the chair her father had just been sitting in. She plopped the frogs on a small table- or rather, she unceremoniously threw them- then hurriedly slid the jar upside down over top of them.

Morg grabbed a letter opener that had been laying on the table and haphazardly began boring holes into the thin metal lid that paired with the jar. She then rapidly slid the lid under the upside down container and sealed it, trapping the two frogs inside. Seeing both her parents in glassware, the corners of her mouth tugged into a slight frown. Hadn’t her father just minutes ago been looking forlornly at the last of his tobacco stash kept in this very jar?

Morg felt the situation to be too ridiculous.

The little girl slumped onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall, letting herself a moment to catch her breath. If her mother were able to, she would probably nag at Morg for getting her dress dirty, sitting on the floor like this. But her mother was a frog now, so…

Morg held the jar up close to her face, examining her two green parents. One was sitting on the ceiling of the container, completely upside down. The other was facing her direction, its body distorted through the glass making its cheeks puff out for a very silly effect. Morg leaned in closer, still wrapping her head around the situation. The distorted frog blinked sluggishly, its left eyelid fully closed before the right even began to move. Morg sighed. There had to be some way…

The sun had already begun to set since before the three of them had started their conversation. Now, Morg watched through the window as the last rays of light danced through the foliage of the maple trees growing just outside. She took a lock of her golden-brown hair and began chewing it. If her mother were able to, she would probably scowl at such unlady-like behaviors. But her mother was a frog now, so… so…

Morg heaved herself up off the floor and, with her jar of frogs hugged tightly against her chest, dazedly made her way through the house to her bedroom. Maybe a good night's sleep would reset all this. Maybe tomorrow morning her parents would be human again.

Without even bothering to change out of her dress, Morg plopped down onto the mattress, hugging the frog-filled jar against her chest, exhausted. With her thoughts racing with anxiety, the young girl slipped into a fretful slumber.