near the oak in the
yard, and a bunny snuggled in its nest near the back fence. The
earth absorbed the sun’s warmth. I could tell the moment the sun
began to set, the creatures either settling or stirring for the
night. When the stars came out it was a glorious sensation. Even
the rotation the planet as it made its way around the sun, the
movement of the moon making her way across the sky were as plain to
me as the dirt under my back. I drifted away again and more time
passed.
I came back to myself suddenly in the
dark, stiff and confused. My entire body ached, and my skin felt
hot and flushed, yet I was cold. I couldn’t move, and my eyes
seemed welded shut. My mind was fully alert, but my body lay beyond
my control. No matter how hard I tried to make my vocal cords work,
I couldn’t scream. The eerie calm was gone, and in its place was a
terror I'd never known before. It overwhelmed me, and I let out a
mental scream of anguish. The effort did nothing to ease my fears,
so I firmly reined them in, knowing I would accomplish nothing
unless I was calm.
Once rational thought returned, I
began to concentrate on moving. Progress was slow, but soon I could
move my feet and hands. I circled them and worked the muscles as
the movement spread. Finally, I was able to sit up, the thin layer
of soil falling away. At least a day had passed while I slept in
the yard, but I wasn’t certain if it was only one. I slowly got to
my feet feeling as wobbly as a newborn giraffe—probably looked
about like one too. I briefly imagined myself as Rip Van Winkle
emerging after twenty years to find the world changed. Only for me,
the world was the same, and I was different. My pajamas seemed to
fit oddly, and I glanced down. My eyes widened in shock at the
ample cleavage stretching the thin cotton to its limit. My hips
were curvier, and my flat butt had rounded until I had what could
only be described as a J-Lo booty. My legs seemed longer and
willowy, rather than gangly, my body round and supple where it had
been flat and straight before.
Slightly dazed, I climbed up the porch
steps praying the door wasn’t locked. I snapped on the light and
stood in the kitchen indecisively. Delaying making any decisions, I
took a glass out of the cupboard and got some water, marveling at
how I had never noticed the chemicals that clung bitterly to my
tongue now. I drained the glass and filled another before carrying
it over to the fridge and rummaging inside, suddenly ravenous.
Inside the fridge, I found a plate on the shelf and silently
thanked my mother. I kicked the door shut and threw the plate in
the microwave, staring impatiently at the revolving chicken, mashed
potatoes and broccoli. As soon as it dinged, I had the food out and
practically shoveled it into my mouth, washing it down with a glass
of milk. Placing my dishes in the sink, I climbed the steps and
went straight into the bathroom.
I stripped off the too small pajamas
and stepped into a steamy shower. Clumps of dirt fell off me; the
hot water turned dingy grey as it circled the drain. I ran my hand
down my hair and registered how long it was, falling to my waist.
It had gotten much thicker and felt very heavy as it slowly
absorbed the water coming from the showerhead. My hands wandered
lower, weighing my new, impressive boobs with a smirk. I stood in
the hot spray long after I had lathered and conditioned my hair,
scrubbed my skin and even shaved the new hair on my legs and under
arms. Evelyn and I had started “shaving” when we were eleven. For
me, it had been a pointless ritual, as there wasn’t really any hair
to shave, and I’d quickly given it up. All my new curves felt
unfamiliar like I was in a stranger’s body. It was obvious to me
now that my body had fully matured while I slept.
Once I’d showered, I wandered to my
room wrapped in a towel. A small pile of new clothes sat on the
bed, along with a new hairbrush and large ponytail holders. The
corners of my mouth pulled up in a
yard, and a bunny snuggled in its nest near the back fence. The
earth absorbed the sun’s warmth. I could tell the moment the sun
began to set, the creatures either settling or stirring for the
night. When the stars came out it was a glorious sensation. Even
the rotation the planet as it made its way around the sun, the
movement of the moon making her way across the sky were as plain to
me as the dirt under my back. I drifted away again and more time
passed.
I came back to myself suddenly in the
dark, stiff and confused. My entire body ached, and my skin felt
hot and flushed, yet I was cold. I couldn’t move, and my eyes
seemed welded shut. My mind was fully alert, but my body lay beyond
my control. No matter how hard I tried to make my vocal cords work,
I couldn’t scream. The eerie calm was gone, and in its place was a
terror I'd never known before. It overwhelmed me, and I let out a
mental scream of anguish. The effort did nothing to ease my fears,
so I firmly reined them in, knowing I would accomplish nothing
unless I was calm.
Once rational thought returned, I
began to concentrate on moving. Progress was slow, but soon I could
move my feet and hands. I circled them and worked the muscles as
the movement spread. Finally, I was able to sit up, the thin layer
of soil falling away. At least a day had passed while I slept in
the yard, but I wasn’t certain if it was only one. I slowly got to
my feet feeling as wobbly as a newborn giraffe—probably looked
about like one too. I briefly imagined myself as Rip Van Winkle
emerging after twenty years to find the world changed. Only for me,
the world was the same, and I was different. My pajamas seemed to
fit oddly, and I glanced down. My eyes widened in shock at the
ample cleavage stretching the thin cotton to its limit. My hips
were curvier, and my flat butt had rounded until I had what could
only be described as a J-Lo booty. My legs seemed longer and
willowy, rather than gangly, my body round and supple where it had
been flat and straight before.
Slightly dazed, I climbed up the porch
steps praying the door wasn’t locked. I snapped on the light and
stood in the kitchen indecisively. Delaying making any decisions, I
took a glass out of the cupboard and got some water, marveling at
how I had never noticed the chemicals that clung bitterly to my
tongue now. I drained the glass and filled another before carrying
it over to the fridge and rummaging inside, suddenly ravenous.
Inside the fridge, I found a plate on the shelf and silently
thanked my mother. I kicked the door shut and threw the plate in
the microwave, staring impatiently at the revolving chicken, mashed
potatoes and broccoli. As soon as it dinged, I had the food out and
practically shoveled it into my mouth, washing it down with a glass
of milk. Placing my dishes in the sink, I climbed the steps and
went straight into the bathroom.
I stripped off the too small pajamas
and stepped into a steamy shower. Clumps of dirt fell off me; the
hot water turned dingy grey as it circled the drain. I ran my hand
down my hair and registered how long it was, falling to my waist.
It had gotten much thicker and felt very heavy as it slowly
absorbed the water coming from the showerhead. My hands wandered
lower, weighing my new, impressive boobs with a smirk. I stood in
the hot spray long after I had lathered and conditioned my hair,
scrubbed my skin and even shaved the new hair on my legs and under
arms. Evelyn and I had started “shaving” when we were eleven. For
me, it had been a pointless ritual, as there wasn’t really any hair
to shave, and I’d quickly given it up. All my new curves felt
unfamiliar like I was in a stranger’s body. It was obvious to me
now that my body had fully matured while I slept.
Once I’d showered, I wandered to my
room wrapped in a towel. A small pile of new clothes sat on the
bed, along with a new hairbrush and large ponytail holders. The
corners of my mouth pulled up in a
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