You find yourself sitting in a locked stall for the second time in about five minutes, worse yet in the girls bathroom. The sounds of teenage girls gossiping, giggling and of course going to the bathroom become a low din inside the sterile tiled room.
"This can't be happening." You mutter under your breath for what seems like the millionth time today.
You absentmindedly bring your hand up to bite your nails (as you've done your whole life when things get overwhelming) and simultaneously slash your lip and choke on a horrible taste.
Eyes snapping open you wrench your hand away and see not yours, but a dainty females
hand with slender fingers
each tipped in expensive looking french tips- still wet with light pink polish.
That taste in your mouth... the nail polish! You stifle a scream as you bring your
other hand up and feel your lips
have become wet with seemingly newly applied lipstick.
You feel your lips plump up a bit and relax into a kind of 'o' shape, then something sticky
and wet slides down your
throat and you struggle for breath as your neck tightens, like a really weak person is
trying to choke you.
The feeling passes and you gasp for breathe- a gasp that comes out your mouth in
soft, girlish tones.
"What?..." you say and again you're shocked at how girlish your voice is, not bubbly and slutty, but high and dripping honey. "Oh my god, no..."
You drop your head in time to see our other hand finishing it's transformation, slimming down as your nails grow out a half inch, now matching the other side.
Feeling like crying you let your new delicate female hands drop to your sides as you lean back against the stall wall in a state of hopelessness.