Removing your tank top, jeans, underwear, and bra, you toss them in your hamper. Although you hesitate a second, staring at the blue clay which lies unassumingly in the bathroom doorway, you shake off your nervousness.
"It's just clay," you try to convince yourself, laughing at your own foolishness. Gathering up your courage but trying to be nonchalant, you walk evenly towards the doorway, then raise a foot to step over the clay, avoiding contact. However, just as you have one foot on either side of the clay, something inconceivable happens.
The clay, which has been laying immobile on the floor for the past few minutes, suddenly shoots up from the floor and enters, of all places, your vagina. You are naked, as you were planning to shower, so nothing impedes the clay's path. Before you can react, you can feel it burrowing up inside you, almost as though it were a living creature. Your first impulse is to reach down to try to pull it out, but nothing of the clay remains outside your body. Despite the clay's path, there is nothing sexually arousing about the feeling of its mass inside you. Rather, it seems like it is continuing to bore its way upward through your body, resulting first in cramps that cause you to double over, and then a stomachache that makes you cry out and writhe on the floor in pain. Looking down, you can see something wriggling under the skin of your belly. Finally, a crushing pressure reaches your lungs, and you black out.
When you finally awaken, your cheek pressed against the cool tile floor of the bathroom, it is almost as though nothing happened. You bolt upright, looking frantically at your body, then around for any possible presence of the clay. However, other than you sitting naked on the floor, there is no evidence that your experience was anything but a dream. That is, until you rise to your feet and walk out into the kitchen where the box and ziploc bag still lie on the countertop. Horrified, you run back into the bathroom and examine every inch of yourself in the mirror.
Nevertheless, much to your frustration, you find nothing. It would probably have been more of a relief if you did find something; at least you would have proof of what happened. You consider going to the hospital, but shake your head. What would you do, tell the doctor that clay came to life and is now inside your body? You'd probably end up in the psych ward. At a loss for the moment, you decide to take a shower anyway, at least it will clear your head.
Stepping out of the incident-free shower, you feel as though your troubles have gone down the drain, and you're ready for a good night's sleep. Putting all thoughts of the clay out of your head, you change into your pajamas and crawl under the covers.