A new life. Was this the rambling of an insane, black-clad goth or a mendacious prankster? Regardless, you indulged her, running through the potential lifestyles that you’d like to try.
"I think I’ve got it," You announce. "I’d like to be the most chaotic, rebellious, and unhinged punk the world’s ever known."
The young woman could only chuckle at your request. You weren't taking this seriously, as was evident by your sneering expression; nevertheless, she maintained her composure.
"Oh, I can do that."
She got up and leaned towards your ear, whispering what sounded like complete gibberish save for one word, a name; Josh. And in an instant, a feeling of dizziness washed over you. Your eyes widened with fear. Just what sort of sorcery is this? Thoughts scrambled, vision hazy, and hearing muffled — this was no prank at all.
Unphased by your panic attack, the woman calmly crossed her arms before speaking again.
"You might wanna check your reflection."
And so you did. The closest mirror around was in the restroom, which was fortunately
a few walks away from where you were now.
You waddle your way in, tilting towards the closest sink — a mirror hung right above it. The reflection staring back was the same old you, the exceptionally unnoticed Charlie Haves. Huh. Perhaps this was nothing more than some mind trick, though you do have to give her credit; she had you assume you were turning into some errant moron based on nothing but conjecture.
You spin the faucet handle and wash your face with the cold, vitalising water. When you look up, you're met with an unfamiliar face: a boy wearing a torn, black t-shirt with a frank "fuck you" printed on it. He had a baseball cap switched backwards, which didn't hide the blond streaks that sprang from underneath. Not to mention the scar running down his neck. By the looks of it, he had his fair share of fights.
"What the…?" You mutter. The boy’s lips moved in sync with your words, and it was then that you realised that this guy was you! The fright in your brown-turned-blue eyes and your mannerism were all the indicators left of the man you used to be.
An impulsive grin crept on your face as you sneaked a hand behind your shirt, feeling the definitions ripped abs. At first glance, it seemed like your changes were just physical. But in truth, the inner workings of your mind were changing; instead of enjoying whatever went to the mainstream of pop, you were more inclined to listen to something like death metal or hardcore punk rock. The yearn of companionship and attention clashed against rebellious contempt for everyone around you. Suffice to say, there was a part of you that wanted to go out there to harass and vandalise students and school property alike.
It only dawned on you that the goth woman was telling you the truth, and this Josh must be you now. She didn't say anything about making you 6’0 or so, which was a plus.
If new memories serve you right, you were Josh Kerrigan; local menace. And you definitely stood out.