Unable to see your reflection, you push your bangs away from your forehead. An unfamiliar boy stands, his teal eyes staring back at you. He had ear length, shaggy brown hair. The mirror seemed a few inches taller than you now. You must have shrunk a few inches down, probably down to 5’5. What you lacked in height was made up for in looks. Add to that your new clothes —you're wearing a nice sweater and a pair of slim jeans.
"I don't believe it!" You said, promptly shooting your hand to your mouth. You sounded like one of those Brits for a second. There had to be some explanation to this in your Student ID, so you search your pockets; they're empty.
"Damn it. Where could my wallet be?" You sigh. The words came out in your high-pitched yet softly spoken voice, which maintained its new English accent.
Looking down, you see that your figure was leaner but not bony, as was evident when you lifted your sweater. "Not bad. It'll be even better if I had my bloody wallet in hand!"
Just when you're about to give up, you spot the wallet laying next to your bed — must’ve fallen off when you leapt out of bed. You open the wallet, which contained an array of dollar & pound notes. You slip out your Student ID; the name ’Harry Ratliff' was positioned close to his picture. Yep, that's you alright. And there was no denying this body looked good. Hell, even your ID picture outdid your old body at its best.
You had the looks of a proper heartthrob, Someone who didn't need the musculature nor douchebaggery of a jock to be popular.
All daydreaming aside, the alarm went off, which means it was time for school.