#voicechange

“Diana,” I said, taking a step back. “What… what are you doing here?”

I stared at her across the parking lot, inching closer to Carlos, afraid she might be there to potentially harm him.

“I,” Diana said, removing her cigarette from her lips, “am here to check up on you.” She flicked the butt of her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with one of her heels as she strutted towards me.

“What for?” I said, softly clenching and relaxing my right fist.

“That’s a good one,” Diana said, chuckling to herself. “I mean, I am just the one witch that helped you get off with this probation period instead of having to completely revoke your magic. I’m still waiting for that thank you basket you promised, by the way.”

Diana wasn’t wrong. From the very beginning, she was on my side; even when I wasn’t aware of what was going on. When I was being whisked away in my dreams to the council for my pre-trial punishments and transformations, Diana was secretly compiling reasons and justifications to not sentence me to become a mortal. At the end of it all, I would’ve been trapped in the 18-year-old twink body I was eventually transformed into, and stripped off my magic; forced my live the rest of my life completely powerless.

“My bad,” I said, still tense. “My brain isn’t exactly the way it used to be. I swear, nowadays I find myself more drawn to lusting after my own reflection than remembering the promises I made to people.”

“That I can believe,” Diana said. “In any case, I see you’ve decided to go through with the arrangement: prove to the council that your methods of transforming mortals is for the better of this world and ours.”

“I have,” I said. “I’ve already directly improved four lives, and who’s to say how many more considering the first three was a gang of bullies.”

“I agree,” Diana said, pulling another cig from her purse. “Nevertheless, since I stuck my neck out for you, I’ve been assigned to monitor you for the remainder of your probation to make sure you don’t fall out of line and start transforming anyone, mortal or magical, for your own personal agenda.”

I squinted my eyes. Typical of the council – they never liked being challenged. And now after processing what Diana just told me, I should’ve expected this to happen. I vaguely remembered one of the warlocks scoffing that a “kid will do what a kid wants to do” during my trial and how “children need surveillance.” Pfft. It’s not my fault I was biologically 28 years old and the old fart was pushing five centuries.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Diana,” I said, crossing my arms. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I think I can handle this on my own.”

“Raul,” Diana said, exhaling smoke. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to them. I have to give at least weekly reports from now on, sometimes more when there’s repeated transformations occurring. And since you’ve already done, what, four, you said? I think I’m going to need to pop in a couple more times this weekend.”

Sometimes I wondered if Chad was a low-key clairvoyant; I swear he could feel when something bad was coming from a mile away.

If I couldn’t shake Diana off my back, I couldn’t shake the council off it either. I would have to be extra cautious from here on out. Adam’s transformation still would be considered safe under the arrangement, as would the bullies, but I would be liar if I wasn’t already thinking about tweaking Chad a little when I got back home. Guess that was out of the picture for the time being.

“Fair enough,” I said, not wanting to cause any more friction. “You do what you gotta do. But, next time, do you think you could give ya boy a little bit of a heads up?”

“That,” Diana said, the side of her mouth curling up, “is something I cannot promise.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“Oh, and Raul,” Diana said. “One more thing before I go.”

I raised my eyebrows, feigning interest.

“The council wanted me to lay out what would happen if you fail to provide enough justification throughout this process. If you fail to prove your transformations provide significant improvements to both the mortal and magical worlds…”

“I’ll have my powers stripped away,” I said.

“No,” Diana said, stamping out the rest of her cigarette, “I’m afraid I couldn’t manage to get them to agree on that for your potential sentencing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the side of my lip. Worse than becoming a mortal? What could be worse than that?

“If you fail, Raul,” Diana said. “You’ll be required to restart your magical studies, with a different specialization, as a first year student, of course, and be given an entirely different identity. Raul Flores will be no more.”

“What?” I said, my voice rising. “But in order to learn a new specialization I would have to be-“

“An adolescent, yes” Diana said, interrupting me. “You’ll be regressed back into young teenagerhood, and enrolled at the institution in the magic world, considering your first time ‘round learning in the mortal world would be deemed a failure. You won’t have your mind erased – you’ll be forced to remember your past life, your past powers, yet unable to ever cast any shape shifting spells ever again, and you’ll start completely over.”

“But,” I said, my eyes widening. “Chad…”

“Yes, I’m afraid he would continue to live out the remainder of his mortal life, not remembering you at all. Everyone here in the mortal world would live out the rest of their lives without you, actually.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This couldn’t be happening to me. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve just listened to Chad, months ago, and not used my powers until my probation was up. Now… now I was putting him and myself at risk… and this time, I could really lose everything.

“Well,” Diana said, turning around. “I guess I’ll leave you and your new friend to enjoy the rest of the festival. Handsome man, by the way. Surprised temptations to transform him haven’t occurred in your mind. And I know they haven’t; I am a mind reader, you know.”

I stood there, staring out past Diana, out into the crowds of frozen people dressed in their festival gear. Large hats, bandanas, flower crowns, shades, neon-matching fits.

Everyone could forget me. Everyone… but me.

“Raul.”

I turned to look at Diana, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know you’re a good person,” Diana said, continuing. “I have faith in you. I want you to succeed, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to prove you didn’t do anything wrong last year if I didn’t think you had something… Don’t let me down.”

“Hey, you okay, buddy?”

I blinked, and Diana was gone. The world was back in motion, and for a moment, I thought maybe I imagined it all.

“Huh?” I said, wiping the stray tear off my cheek. “Yeah, Carlos, I’m good. I just- I don’t know…”

“You sure?” Carlos said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not feeling good, we could head back to the room for a bit?”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head laughing. “I’m fine. Really. I just thought of something randomly and it got me sad. You pour a heavy mimosa; you already got me in the crying stage of being tipsy.”

Carlos laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, taking the bait and allowing us to change the subject. We walked on the shuttle and sat about halfway down in order to not be those assholes who sit in the front of the bus when there’s plenty of space in the back, but also not in the very back so it wouldn’t take us too long to get off once we arrived at the festival.

As more festivalgoers boarded the shuttle, Carlos rambled on about how awesome Adam was and how he was glad they at least exchanged numbers since they wanted to see one of the DJ’s playing later that night. I nodded and smiled the more he talked, but found myself completely distracted by my encounter with Diana.

I could lose Chad.

That’s all that kept playing in my head. Fuck turning into a teen again, although relieving adolescence sounded like a nightmare in itself, but losing Chad… I didn’t know if I could deal with that.

Worst of all, there was no way to back out anymore. The ball was set in motion. I pushed it, and now it was tumbling down the mountain and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I would get crushed, and still have to suffer my fate.

I had to get this point across. I was going to prove to the council that I was really helping both our worlds and making them a better place. I knew I was.

Right?

--

The first half of our time at the festival was a blur for me.

Carlos and I had been running back and forth between stages and the bars. We even got ourselves a smoothie at some point.

But I couldn’t focus. Diana really threw a goddamn wrench in my mind. She was all I could think about; her, and the council, and Chad, and my fucked up life.

I was finishing up the last sip of my margarita when Carlos mentioned he brought molly in the festival grounds with him.

I hadn’t done any kind of drugs in years, since I was still in college, but at the moment, being high and wasted seemed better than being lost in my thoughts.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to you know,” Carlos said, popping the pill in his mouth and washing it down with his own marg.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I want to.” I stuck my hand out, waiting for Carlos to drop the E in my palm.

“Ayeee, that’s my little dude!” Carlos plopped the pill in my hand before smacking my ass lightly.

We were already pretty tipsy, so maybe taking the pill wasn’t the best idea, but, if anything, I could try to detox the poison from our bodies if we started getting too faded.

Placing the pill on my tongue, I chugged the rest of my drink. Tossing the plastic cup in the nearby recycling bin, I smacked Carlos’ ass to let him know I was ready to head out of the beer garden.

“Where to next?” I said, dusting off the bits of dust that had accumulated on my shorts over the last few hours.

“Well, I texted Adam,” Carlos said. “He said he can meet us at the Outdoor Stage an hour before the DJ goes on. So… we still have a good… 45 minutes before that. Perfect timing too; the pill should be in full swing by the time the DJ’s on.”

“Nice,” I said, crackling my knuckles.

I pulled my phone from my front pocket, remembering I needed to text Chad that I had been at the festival. I thought about also informing him about the council, but decided it was best to save that until tomorrow, the earliest - perhaps even when I got back home. I needed to have a good time and forget about all that drama.

Hitting SEND on my messaging app, I turned back to Carlos, who had started grooving as we passed by the restrooms, which was convenient considering we probably wouldn’t have time to go again once we were at the Outdoor Stage.

At least I had Carlos with me right now to distract me. He was a good time, and his friendship made things feel a little less hectic.

“You gotta piss?” I said, pointing to the line forming outside.

“Mmmm,” Carlos said, his dancing slowing down. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“Good call,” I said, walking to the back of the line.

“Watch it!” a man yelled, as he shoved his shoulder past mine.

“YOU watch it!” Carlos said, yelling after the man. “What a prick!”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. “Just an asshole.”

I stared at the man who rammed into me as he walked only 15 steps behind me at the water refill station. He was a pretty average guy, probably in his early to mid 30s. Enough muscle mixed with a little fat, on the taller side. He was dressed like a tool, though. A backwards cap with a basketball jersey about 2 sizes too big, and cargo shorts that didn’t deserve to see the light of day.

“Watch it!” the man yelled, pushing past a younger guy about to fill up his water bottle.

I clenched my teeth.

“Dude, I was here first,” the younger guy said, pushing his way back into his spot at the water fountain.

“Fuck off, bitch,” the man said, pushing the other guy to the ground and putting his mouth directly underneath the faucet.

I glared at the older man as patrons in the area helped the younger man back to his feet and fetched his water bottle.

“What the fuck,” Carlos said, muttering under his breath.

Rubbing my fingers together and muttering under my breath, I turned around to face Carlos, moving forward in the bathroom line as people came and went.

“Carlos,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Who do you want to see after this?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, putting his hands on his hips. “All that commotion reminded me we should probably get water before we meet up with Adam though. And another drink. Or two.”

“Wh-what the fuck?” a voice said behind us.

A group of people turned to look at the older man from before, his chin and chest dripping with water. He had his arms completely extended out in front of him. He was staring at his hands, turning and twisting them, with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Someone please help me,” the man said, choking on his words.

A small crowd soon began to form around the water refill station as he continued to panic. They whispered amongst themselves, confused about the commotion.

I smiled as Carlos and I joined in on the staring. Since that asshole cleared enjoyed drawing the attention of others, I figured he’d want an audience as he experienced his transformation, which was triggered by the amount of water he chugged greedily from the fountain.

What the man wasn’t aware of, however, was he and I were the only people noticing the changes to his body. To the crowd of festivalgoers around him, he just looked like someone experiencing a bad trip.

The man’s mouth dropped as the hairs on his arms began to recede, leaving them completely hairless. The rest of his body hair quickly followed suit before his clothes began to loosen up around him. He shrank closer and closer to the ground as his muscles softened, not with fat, but from the loss of tone. The trimmed goatee on his face faded into nothingness as his cheeks rounded a bit, looking more and more like the fresh-faced recent high school graduate he was steadily becoming.

“Someone please help!” the now 19-year-old boy repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Someone go get the medic,” a woman said, pointing to the medical tent a few yards away.

The teen grasped at his shorts, threatening to fall off his thinning hips. His jersey billowed like a tarp on his torso. His breathing increased as freckles lined his skin and metal brackets appeared on his crooked teeth. Where there once was a wannabee thuggish man now stood a wannabee punkish college-drop out.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the medic said, pushing his way into the crowd. “Everyone back up, give the kid some space.”

The crowd began to disperse, deciding it had enough watching punk of a teenager freak out.

“You gotta help me man,” the teen said, tightening the belt on his shorts. “I’m shrinking man, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What’s your name kid?” the medic asked, putting his hand on the teen’s back.

“My name is Scott and I’m not a kid!” the former man said, with a slight lisp as his tongue tripped over the metal in his mouth. “I’m 34 years old and something is seriously wrong!”

“Are you here with anyone else?” the medic said, ignoring Scott’s pleas.

“Yes, my girlfriend Stacy and my best friend Hank, wait there they are! Stacy!”

Stacy, accompanied by Hank, turned to look at Scott, confusion written across her face.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, wrapping his arm around Hank’s.

“Stacy!” Scott said, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s me! Scott! I know I look like a kid right now, but it’s me. I don’t know what’s going on but-“

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” Hank said, pulling Stacy away.

As the couple walked away from the water fill station and towards the beer garden, Scott stared in disbelief before falling to his knees and losing consciousness.

“Fuck,” the medic said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. “I need a stretcher out by water 3; kid just passed out from an apparent trip.”

“Jesus,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“That can’t happen to us, right?” I asked, trying to play up the drug-trip narrative. I snapped my fingers, ensuring Scott would wake up thinking the entire ordeal truly was a bad trip.

“No, no way,” Carlos said, turning back around. “My shit is clean. Not laced with whatever the fuck that prick had. I’ve never seen anything like that. He was so young too.”

“Yeah,” I said, as we finally entered the restroom. “Kids nowadays…”

--

About an hour later, Carlos and I were on cloud 9. After we finished using the restroom and refilled our water bottles, we made our way to the beer garden and chugged a couple beers. Now, we were resting at the Outdoor stage, waiting for Adam and his girlfriend. My head was spinning from the alcohol and the E coursing through my veins. I opted to sit down against a fence as Carlos tried finding our newly acquainted friends.

I pulled out my phone to check if Chad had responded to my texts. Much to my dismay, I had no service.

“Raul!” Adam said, suddenly. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Cristal. I was telling her all about you guys and how you took me out of the funk I was in this morning.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Raul,” Cristal said, extending her hand. “Thanks for helping with Adam; he’s so hard on himself. He beats himself up whenever he tries new things.”

I stood up, the biggest smile plastered on my face, partially from the compliment, but mostly from how insanely fucked up I was.

“Aw, it was no problem,” I said, shaking Cristal’s hand. “He’s a really cool guy – he made Carlos and I enjoy our walk to the shuttle a bit more. It’s nice to meet you!

Cristal smiled before moving back to Adam, resting her head against his chest. Carlos walked over to me before offering his hand so we could head into the crowd.

As we walked closer to the Outdoor Stage, the DJ began his set.

“Fuck I’m so pumped!” Carlos said, as we all weaved our way through the sea of people.

“Me too,” I said, giggling. I squeezed Carlos’ hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. I moved my thumb over the back of his index finger repeatedly.

“Damn, you’re on a good one huh?” Carlos said, smiling down at me.

“Fuck. Yeah,” I said, laughing.

When we finally found a suitable spot, the four of us began dancing. I bumped my head to the beat, swayed my hips to the lasers, and pulsed my muscles to the bass flowing through my body.

My head twirled along to the music, my body moving in ways I had forgotten I could dance. I pressed myself repeatedly against Carlos as he danced with me, his arms holding me close at times.

I closed my eyes, picturing all the colors and shapes of the light show in front of me. I imagined my body changing back to it used to be, knowing I was banned from changing it until my probation was over. But with the way I was rolling, my imagination began to feel real.

I saw my thick chest and tight abs, and my strong biceps and shoulders that would make even Carlos jealous. I felt my thick rod and bulge between my legs, my powerful thighs grooving to the music. I shook my muscular ass, feeling the vibrations course up through my broad back.  

I imagined Carlos and I dancing there, feeling like we were floating above the ground.

I thought of Chad… wondering how he would feel if he knew I was here, cross-faded out of my mind, getting incredibly close with another man.

But I knew Carlos was just a friend. That’s all he ever would be. But in that moment, I also needed to have intimacy, because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified that I would fail. Terrified that I would lose. Terrified that I could wreck my life and have nothing left to show for it.

“Raul.”

I opened my eyes, my train of thought broken. I looked down at my body; slightly disappointed to see I was still the 21-year-old I had become.

I turned to look at Carlos, when my jaw dropped.

“Carlos?” I said, my voice wavering.

Carlos smiled at me, weaving his fingers around mine before squeezing them. He continued to dance and I stared at his body, not believing my eyes. I knew it was him; still 25 years old, but he was completely different. His muscles were practically gone; he stood a mere inch, if anything above me, and the light stubble he kept on his face had completely vanished.

“I’m having such a great time with you, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice a few octaves higher. “Please promise me we’ll hang out so much more when we get back to LA.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. A tear fell down my face, when Carlos quickly wiped it away.

“Don’t cry, Raul,” Carlos said, his brows furrowing.

I closed my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks. Did I do this? On accident? Diana? Someone else? I didn’t understand.

“Raul,” Carlos said, squeezing my hand tightly.

I took in a deep breath before I opened my eyes. I gasped when my eyes met Carlos’. He was fine. He wasn’t transformed at all. He was still the tall, muscular man I had been hanging out with the past couple days.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?”

I laughed, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. I think I’m just rolling a bit too hard.”

“I got you, man,” Carlos said, taking out the water bottle from his backpack. “I’ll always have you.”

I smiled, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have two beautiful men in my life. I took the water bottle and pressed it against my lips. As I drank, I felt my anxiety dissipate and my tension balance out. I took deep breaths, in and out, and handed the bottle back to Carlos.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I’ll always have you too. I promise.”

Carlos smiled back, before slowly pulling my back against his chest.

“We can dance relaxed like this until you feel better,” he said, whispering in my ear.

I nodded my head and swayed along to the rhythm. I went back to bumping my head to the music, and looked over to Adam and Cristal, who were too busy making out with each other to notice anything at all. I felt a vibration in my pocket and grinned.

Chad.

Day 13: Clown

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13

Derek practically whimpered like a wolf pup as he watched his husband, Stiles, slowly slump to the couch. The usually vibrant and cheerful human had been going through some hardships at work, and it’d really affected his mood; thus, the normally smiley and singsongy Stiles was all gray and sulky. The alpha werewolf frowned as he saw Stiles’s thin shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

On a normal day, Derek was the grumpy one, mad at the world and scowling at every living creature that dared to cross his path; and Stiles would be his anchor, calming him down with a simple kiss on the cheek or by placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. Now that the roles were evidently reversed, Derek was struggling to find out the right things to do/say, empathy never really being one of his strong suits.

“Babe?” Derek asked as he walked over to the couch and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he would’ve done had the roles been swapped. “Um… have you tried not thinking about it?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he rubbed at his temples, making Derek feel guilty.

Derek flinched and quickly tried to make things better. “Got a headache?” he asked, already dashing to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some Ibuprofen!”

As Derek leaned over the sink, images of his sad husband kept replaying in his mind, making him grimace. He felt guilty for not being able to cheer up Stiles like he would do for him whenever he was moody. He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless and, what was worse, was that whenever he felt like this, it was usually Stiles who convinced him of otherwise with a little corny joke.

Derek loved his husband with all of his heart, and it pained him to see Stiles sad. He missed his smile, he missed his laugh.

“Damn it,” Derek cursed under his breath, “I wish I could cheer him up.”

The second the words left his mouth, Derek felt a shudder ripple through him. The sensation morphed into an odd tingling that consumed his whole body before fading, but not before being reduced to a tickle that actually made Derek laugh.

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his normal throaty chuckle sounding more like a cartoonish wail that was comically deep. The werewolf jerked back and cleared his throat, wondering why he’d just laughed like that.

He shook it away and opened up the mirror cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen for Stiles, gasping when he saw his reflection after closing it.

His normally jet-black hair was green! Derek dropped the small pills in shock as he ran a shaky hand through his green hair, his eyes wide at the vibrant color that would without a doubt, draw a lot of attention his way. 

“What’s, *giggle, wrong with my hair— Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek laughed again. This time, he finally realized that he’d been smiling the entire time. Although he was confused and slightly panicked over what was happening to him, his face looked alight with zeal. His pearly whites were on full display, which brought about something new to him. Derek had always had larger front teeth, Stiles sometimes referring to them as Bunny Teeth, but his eyes widened when he saw them grow in size until they protruded over his bottom lip, effectively giving him over-exaggerated buck teeth.

Derek barely had time to react to his large teeth before he witnessed his nose shudder. Its skin reddened drastically until it looked cherry red, even taking on a shimmery sheen. It then steadily inflated, rounding out until Derek had a red clown nose affixed to his face.

“I look ridiculous!” Derek giggled, still grinning widely despite his inner panic.

The altered werewolf’s first thought was to rush to Stiles, knowing that his husband would figure out what was happening to him. Derek quickly hurried out of the bathroom, stumbling over his feet as he moved. Derek’s eyes widened even further when he witnessed his feet elongating past their usual size thirteen, growing comically huge with large stumpy toes capping them. 

With each step he took, Derek’s new feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floors and he struggled to maintain his balance. His gait resembled someone more clumsy, struggling to walk a straight line. He kept bouncing against the walls, knocking over pictures and causing a ruckus as he moved.

With a loud giggle, Derek waddled into the living room where Stiles moped. His husband took one look at him and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Der?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Instead of asking for help, Derek heard himself laugh, “Hyuck! Hyuck! I heard that there’s someone who’s a little down!” He cringed at how he was acting, this cheery clown attitude a direct contrast with his usual self.

Stiles just stared blankly ahead. “Huh?”

“Want a balloon?” Derek happily asked. “I got a real big one for you!”

With large, flailing motions, Derek searched all around his clothes. His busy show wouldn’t allow him to display his shock over the bright neon colors that his black clothes had been magically dyed to. Derek felt as if he were a passenger in his own body, hearing himself speak and feeling himself move, but he didn’t have any control. He was helpless as he behaved like some sugary sweet clown, unable to stop smiling and giggling the entire time.

When Derek couldn’t find a balloon, he frowned before perking up with an a-ha motion. Pursing his lips and whistling through his large buck teeth, he unzipped his now bright yellow pants and let them fall to the ground. 

He exaggeratedly gasped as he looked down at his soft cock, grabbing at his green hair. “Oh no!” he chirped. “You don’t want that small balloon!” 

He winced at calling himself small, but then flinched when he saw the corner of Stiles’s mouth slowly pull upward. Seeing Stiles doing so sent a fluttering feeling through Derek’s chest, and he started to feel a little excited, his panic steadily fading.

Derek felt himself stick his thumb in his mouth and take in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He then puffed out his cheeks and acting like he was blowing air into himself, pausing every so often to take a deep breath.

Stiles let out a little chuckle.

Derek felt himself perk up, his cock instantly rocketing to attention. It swelled up and stood out in front of him. Derek dropped his thumb from his mouth and gestured towards his hard cock.

“Ta-da!” he cheered, puffing his chest back out and setting his hands onto his hips proudly as he pushed his hips forward so that his rock hard member was closer to his husband.

Finally, Stiles’s face broke out into a loud smile and he started to laugh.

At seeing his husband finally laughing and being able to see his beautiful smile again, Derek’s cock throbbed and began to leak precum. His own smile was back in full force.

“Oh, thank you, Der,” Stiles cooed as he sat up and gave his husband a big hug. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

Shocking Voice Change! Puberphonia Treatment by ASLP Anjali Sanwal

Puberphonia is a voice disorder in which a person continues to speak in a high-pitched voice even after puberty. This condition is commonly seen in males and can affect confidence, communication, and social life. However, the good news is that puberphonia is treatable with proper guidance and therapy.

Voice therapy is the most effective treatment for puberphonia. It involves simple vocal exercises, breathing techniques, and pitch correction methods under the supervision of a speech-language pathologist. These techniques help in naturally lowering the voice pitch and developing a stable, mature voice. In many cases, noticeable improvement can be seen within a short period when therapy is done consistently.

Experts like ASLP Anjali Sanwal focus on practical and result-oriented approaches, where patients experience a sudden and “shocking” voice change during therapy sessions. This transformation not only improves voice quality but also boosts confidence and personality. In rare cases, if therapy alone is not sufficient, medical or surgical options may also be considered.

This video showcases a real-life example of voice transformation through professional treatment and highlights how the right therapy can change lives.

Active Voice is a form of a sentence in which the subject performs the action of the verb. In active voice, the focus is on who does the action.

Active Voice (कर्तृवाच्य) वह वाक्य होता है जिसमें कर्ता स्वयं कार्य करता है। इसमें वाक्य का मुख्य जोर कार्य करने वाले (कर्ता) पर होता है।

Example: Ram writes a letter. (राम पत्र लिखता है।)

(Ram = subject, does the action) (राम = कर्ता, कार्य कर रहा है)

Passive voice is a sentence structure in which the subject receives the action rather than performing it.

In passive voice, the focus is on the action or the object, not on the doer (agent).

Passive Voice (कर्मवाच्य) वह वाक्य होता है जिसमें कर्ता (काम करने वाला) पर ज़ोर न होकर कर्म (जिस पर काम हो रहा है) पर ज़ोर दिया जाता है।

इसमें कर्ता क्रिया नहीं करता, बल्कि क्रिया का प्रभाव सहता है।

Example:

The letter is written by Amit. (Here, the letter receives the action.)

पत्र अमित द्वारा लिखा गया है। (यहाँ पत्र पर काम हुआ है।)

Active to Passive for Affirmative Sentences 

He writes a letter. - A letter is written by him. वह एक पत्र लिखता है। - एक पत्र उसके द्वारा लिखा जाता है।

She cleans the room. - The room is cleaned by her. वह कमरा साफ करती है। - कमरा उसके द्वारा साफ किया जाता है।

Active to Passive for Negative Sentences 

He does not write a letter. - A letter is not written by him. वह पत्र नहीं लिखता है। - पत्र उसके द्वारा नहीं लिखा जाता है।

She is not cooking food. - Food is not being cooked by her. वह खाना नहीं बना रही है। - खाना उसके द्वारा नहीं बनाया जा रहा है।

Active - Negative Passive (Interrogative / Negative-Interrogative)

Active: Does he write a letter? Passive (Negative): A letter is not written by him. Hindi: क्या वह पत्र लिखता है? - पत्र उसके द्वारा नहीं लिखा जाता है।

Active: Did he not complete the work? Passive (Negative): The work was not completed by him. Hindi: क्या उसने काम पूरा नहीं किया? - काम उसके द्वारा पूरा नहीं किया गया।

WH-Word Interrogatives

Active: Why does he ignore the rules? Passive (Negative): The rules are not followed by him. Hindi: वह नियमों की अनदेखी क्यों करता है? - नियम उसके द्वारा नहीं माने जाते।

Active: When did she submit the form? Passive (Negative): The form was not submitted by her. Hindi: उसने फ़ॉर्म कब जमा किया? - फ़ॉर्म उसके द्वारा जमा नहीं किया गया।

WHO to BY WHOM (Positive Sentences)

Active: Who writes this letter? Passive: By whom is this letter written? Hindi: यह पत्र कौन लिखता है? / यह पत्र किसके द्वारा लिखा जाता है?

Active: Who teaches you English? Passive: By whom are you taught English? Hindi: तुम्हें अंग्रेज़ी कौन पढ़ाता है? / तुम्हें अंग्रेज़ी किसके द्वारा पढ़ाई जाती है?

hi sorry i got super distracted

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