Zoe woke up one morning and realized she couldn’t hide what was happening any longer.
She was 13 and her body was changing-but not in the usual way.
It had started about a year ago when she had her first period. Instead of feeling cranky and irritable, the way her mother and most women did she felt giddy and bubbly-even euphoric. And instead of the rotten fishy smell that health and sex education classes had described, her menstrual fluid smelled sweet, almost like cotton candy.
She thought it must be a fluke, but then almost a week later when she looked into the mirror she saw pale splotches against her usual olive complexion. Zoe’s parents took her to a doctor, who claimed she had a mild case of vitiligo, a skin condition that caused by a loss of pigment. The doctor then prescribed a cream for treated it and had to notify him if any more splotches appeared.
Zoe used the cream and her mother taught her how to apply makeup to hide her splotches. Then a month later her period came again, and this time the cotton-candy smell was so strong she had to shower and douse herself with perfume to cover it up.
As the months passed, no more splotches appeared, but the ones on her face grew bigger and whiter, almost an eggshell color. Zoe began having her suspicions about what was happening but at first dismissed them-the idea was too absurd. Yet, as she looked at herself before applying her makeup, Zoe began to realize she had more than a simple skin condition.
Zoe’s eye-splotches now stretched from the top of her cheeks to the middle of her forehead, while around her mouth the pale skin covered the area around her lips in an almost heart shape. Zoe leaned closer and examined her dark brown hair. Was that green running through it?
Fortunately her mother kept some hair dye in the cabinet to hide her own grey hairs. Zoe applied it to the green streaks, then after finishing her makeup decided she looked normal enough.
But she knew she wasn’t.
More weeks passed until her period came again and again. By now Zoe had become expert enough at dyeing her hair and doing her face she no longer needed to look in the mirror to do so. Yet Zoe had gymnastics practice after school, and while she normally went home without showering one day she was sweating so badly she took a quick one with the other girls, careful not to get her face or hair wet lest she reveal what lay underneath the foundation and dye.
Zoe was told in her sex ed classes that it was only natural for her to be curious about the other girls’ bodies; yet when she looked at them, they seemed notably different from hers. She was somewhat pleased that she was getting an ample bosom and a luscious bubble butt, yet she noticed how the other girls’ breasts seemed to swag, her own seemed to bob. The two other girls had a Latina olive complexion like hers, yet Zoe’s own skin now seemed to be changing to a slightly orange color. Their pubic hair was straight and silky, Zoe’s was thick and curly. Then she final noticed how green seemed to run through it as well, and quickly left to get dressed.
Zoe never showered with the girls again after that.
Months kept passing, And Zoe kept hiding her face markings and dying her hair; she’d even taken to dying her bush. Yet soon came changes Zoe couldn’t hide so easily. She always seemed to be smiling, now matter how she felt. She tried to make other expressions, but whenever she relaxed her face her mouth would revert to a wide silly grin. As expected Zoe’s voice started changing but she didn’t sound older so much as funnier-she’d speak with a squeaky lilt and whenever she was excited it would get so high she sounded as if she was breathing helium. Zoe would even punctuate her sentences with involuntary guffaws and giggles which made it almost impossible for her to be taken seriously in a conversation.
Finally one morning she decided to have a good look at herself before doing her hair and makeup. Zoe gasped although she was not surprised; her face was an explosion of white, orange, red, and black.
The apples of her cheeks were a soft red like blush with three black freckle-like dots. Her smiling lips inside her white muzzle were black and made it look like Zoe’s mouth was open. Her white eye-splotches nearly reached up to her hairline and were topped with black arches, giving her a surprised look. Her eyes were outlined in black with tiny black triangles right underneath.
And at the very center of Zoe’s face her nose was a shiny red. It looked like it was about to plump up; soon Zoe knew her little red nose would be a BIG red nose.
And biggest change was her hair.
Over the months it had grown thicker and curlier; Zoe had found it easiest to manage in a short semi-Afro style. Now most of her natural brunette color was gone; her hair was mostly different shades of green highlighted with orange and pink. Even her public hair had changed color and looked like a rainbow pom-pom.
Quickly Zoe applied her makeup and hair-dye. Looking at herself again, she sighed with relief that she could still pass for normal.
The rest of the day at school passed normally, until gymnastics practice. Zoe found herself getting clumsier, until she accidentally knock over the gymnastics bench and several of her teammates. Her shoes felt tight against her feet, and she was delirious.
The gymnastics coach felt Zoe’s forehead and sent her to the nurse. The nurse sent Zoe home.
Zoe felt her parents suspected what was happening but wouldn’t talk to them about it; as a little girl they had teased her for being so afraid. When she got home, after her mother sent her to bed.
And that very next morning Zoe awoke to see a touch of red at the bottom of her field of vision. Removing her bedcovers, she saw her were now three times as long and he toes at least eight inches wide.
Taking a deep breath Zoe touched her nose. It was a perfect sphere and as big as a plum. She gave a squeeze.
HONK!
Zoe’s parents came to the doorway of her bedroom. They took one look at their daughter and burst out laughing.
“We’re sorry,” her father finally said when he calm down. “But you were so afraid of clowns when you were little. Now you ARE a clown!”
“That’s the funny thing about growing up, heeyahha, Dad.” Zoe honked her nose and held up an oversized foot. “Anyway, he he, I’m going to need new shoes.” HONK! HONK!