Morning comes gently. You take your time waking up, not wanting to have to face another day in this house. You had just had a dream of your old life, going to work and chatting with friends. Those days feel like a million years ago. What are your friends doing now, you wonder? Have they realized you're missing yet? Are they searching for you? Will they find this place? You rather hoped they wouldn't. It would probably trap them just as easily as it trapped you, and not even on your worst enemy would you wish this kind of existence.
You pull yourself out of bed, feeling refreshed just like the day before. No sore muscles, no aches, and even the bruise from your trip on the staircase was gone.
You glance around the room and see it exactly the same as ever. You remove the towel from your hair, letting it fall in waves and pile up on the bed. A chilly draft blows briefly and you sigh. You know what's coming next.
You open the closet door, hoping that this house will grant you some dignity, some leniency. Your eyes fall upon the same familiar dress. It is now completely cleaned up and back on its hangar, exactly as it was yesterday. Although...not quite. It takes you a minute, but you figure out what's different. It looks a little smaller, and the skirt portion is much longer. An extra layer of ruffled black see-through lace has been added to the outside as well. Maybe it's not the same dress, but it might as well be. You're stuck for another day wearing this gothic getup you never wished for.
But why was it smaller? Did the house accidentally shrink it in the wash? You pull it off the hangar and hold it up to your body. Oddly, it looks like it'll fit you just as well as yesterday. Then you come to a realization. You look down at your chest and see not the supple breasts of an eighteen-year-old, but the modest A-cups of an even younger figure. When you walk up to the wall mirror, you can see that you've regressed in age once again. Now you appear to be somewhere around thirteen years old. You're a few inches shorter, and your figure is a little less curvy. Your hair's magnificent waves had shortened along with your body, and are no longer dragging on the ground. Now they're tickling your ankles.
You tried to ignore the depression welling inside you once again. You still had a lot of work to do if you were going to get out of this house and through that maze, no matter what form you took. You threw the dress on the bed and gathered the other accessories from the closet. When you pick up the boots, you notice they feel heavier than before, which was saying a lot considering how much of a drag those big heels were on your feet yesterday.
You slip on the stockings and arm warmers, then the dress. The bodice tightens more firmly around your smaller chest now, and actually covers your breasts completely. Your black lips form a grimace as you lament the loss of your chest.
The skirt definitely got longer overnight. Its frills were dangling just above your ankles. Because of its longer length, it puffed out more toward the bottom as well.
After putting on the collar, you pause to make sure you didn't just miss a bra and underwear in the closet. Your exposed slit hadn't stopped feeling strange since yesterday, and you were really starting to despise that small corner of your brain that continuously sent you signals of pleasure from the titillated region.
You slip your feet into the platform boots and buckle all eight buckles. When you stand up you can tell they're definitely different today. They were taller, they had to be. Walking on them was even more difficult now.
You make tracks to the study, where you find a ruler in a drawer of the desk. Sure enough, your platforms are ten inches in the heel. That should make up for all the height you lost when you regressed overnight, keeping your stance at around six feet. But was it worth it, you wonder, if you could barely keep your balance?
You decide you've had your fill of apples, and locate the kitchen. It is just off the rear of the entrance hall, and filled with all sorts of cookware. Cupboards are lined with spices and the pantry is stocked with just about everything you can think of. Your stomach is sending you strong cravings for some real food, and you can no longer stave off its desperation.