Somehow, even though your biggest task is technically doing nothing, you find this is the longest week of your life. You do not know how you manage it, but you last the entire week without anyone figuring out your secret. Your family has noticed you have become a bit reclusive, but you ensure they chalk it up to extra studying alone in your room. A convenient excuse for keeping the door locked.
You even create a "nest" of sorts with some blankets in a hidden nook of your closet, crawling in there whenever you change into an egg, naturally after creating a decoy under the covers of your bed with a few pillows. By catching every moment you can, you actually amass 12 hours daily in the form of the egg, even though you only spend about 8 hours of it asleep.
The rest of it is spent in an oddly quiet, cramped state, with only a muffled connection to the outside world. Of course, you have to pay attention in case someone knocks on your door and requires your presence, but otherwise, the experience is rather...boring. Your mind wanders, and you cannot help but wonder if you've been hornswoggled into a magical boondoggle. Apart from the shape change, what was magical about locking yourself in a shell half the time?
By the time the week comes to an end, you are getting fidgety with a case of cabin fever. You were even starting to look forward to the time you spent in class just so that you wouldn't have to be alone in silence with your thoughts. At long last, it is Saturday, and you bolt over to Ms. Vargaz's Howlings Hall. The creaky old door opens, and Ms. Vargaz cackles as she spots your uncomfortable figure.
"You seem just about ripe, dearie," Ms. Vargaz smirks. "Why don't you come in and we'll see how you're progressing?"
Ms. Vargaz leads you further into the house, into one of the rooms that, surprisingly, has a roaring fire going, despite the fact that it is rather balmy outside. Ms. Vargaz points at a pile of stick and leaves laying a bit away from the fire.
"Well, have at it," she says, looking at you. Your befuddled look elicits a sigh, and further direction. "Change into an egg, child, that's your nest."
Your look of confusion shifts to one of discomfort. You had had enough of this darned egg. Now you even have to change into it here? However, Ms. Vargaz face brooks no argument, so, sighing you strip, awkwardly crouching in the nest of sticks and leaves, and shift into an egg.
The warmth of the fire was oddly comforting, and there was something soothing about the natural nest. However, rather than relax you or put you to sleep, the heat only made you more restless, until something in you snapped. Despite being locked inside the egg, you begin to strain and attempt to flail, although you are held in place by the sturdy shell. Finally, you tense your entire body in desperation, and are rewarded with a light "CRACK".
Suddenly, slight movement of your head is possible, and excited, you keep pushing, bit by bit. After much effort, a slight bit of light enters your dark world, which you are aware of even through your closed eyes. Your head exits the hole in the shell, and you try to open your eyelids to see what has become of yourself.
"Ah, good to know Arte has not yet lost his touch," you hear Mrs. Vargas say in approval somewhere above you. You desperately stretch your body, and as the cracked egg gives way, you are freed from your prison. You lack fine motor control, but you are extremely curious as to what you have become. Slowly, you force your eyes open.