I woke up the next morning with a weird pain in my lower backside. I sat up to figure out what the matter was and felt around back there. That’s when I felt the thing growing out of my lower spine, just above my butt crack. It was long, thin, the same color of my skin, tapered to a point at the end, and segmented. It was a tail. A rat tail.
Well I screamed my head off for a second time that week, prompting my Mom to come check on me again. She asked me what was wrong, but she didn’t end with the words “this time.” She was acting like this was the first time this week that I’d woken up screaming.
So I told her, “Mom, I grew a tail!” She stared at me in much the same way as last time.
She said, “Honey, you’ve had a tail from the day you were born, and you’re just now realizing it?”
I felt like I was experiencing deja vu or something, because I felt like I was in a similar position just yesterday. I remembered waking up with a vagina that hadn’t been there before yesterday. Today I woke up with a tail that wasn’t there before. I was starting to suspect that maybe it really was a witch curse involved. So just like yesterday I decided to just roll with the day as if nothing was different.
Wearing regular pants with a tail sucks. I basically had to wear the waistband around my hips. It made walking a bit of a bitch and I had to constantly hike my drawers up throughout the day. On top of that, my tail kept getting caught in doors and stuff wherever I went. It always hurt like a bitch whenever the door slammed into it, and it always made me yelp in pain.
My buddy Carlos kept noticing that my tail kept slamming in doors and came up to ask me about it. He was like, “Bro, you sleep alright? You’re almost never this bad with slamming your tail in the door!” So apparently it was widely known that I was supposed to have had a tail long enough to be coordinated with it.
That in mind, I said to Carlos, “Yo, my bad dawg. Been staying up late studying for exams and shit.” I even managed a convincing enough yawn. Carlos told me to get some sleep that night and that was the end of that conversation.
That wasn’t the end of my tail problems, though. The stupid thing kept knocking things over. Bookcases, chairs, desks, you name it! I even knocked this one girl, Emilia, over in the hallway and made her drop her papers and stuff. I stopped to help her, which she thanked me for, but then she told me to, and I quote, “get that stupid tail under control before I get a carving knife and slice it off!” So I told her she was more than welcome to cut it off and then she looked at me like I just told her that I wanted to commit suicide.
“Jordan, I was kidding,” she told me, “I’d never cut off your tail. You told me that tail was important to you.”
The second she said that it suddenly felt like I knew exactly how to keep my tail under control. I apologized again for knocking her over and walked away. I found myself apologizing to my tail for suggesting that Emilia could slice it off. It was then I realized that this tail was an extension of myself and a point of pride for me. I knew I didn’t feel that way ten minutes ago, but it was like Emilia telling me that altered my perception of things.
The rest of the day went smoothly after that, and I went home feeling like only one thing about me was different. I ate dinner and went right to bed. Then the next morning came, and this time two more changes happened.