You cross the hallway, making your way to your room again as you unconsciously readjust your shorts; failing to notice your narrowing waist. As you set the laptop on your desk you glance at the time, “Cool, early enough to clean the bugs from Benji’s wank-fest and order the Chinese” you think. Rolling the chair over to start cleaning out the laptop, you’re surprised how roomy and gently snug Benji’s shoes are. “Man, his feet must swim in thEsE.” You nervously clear your throat thinking that your voice hadn’t cracked in a year, as you walk over to your dresser and turn the stereo on. Oblivious to standing on your toes to reach the power button on top, you make your way back and plop down in the chair, swiveling back and forth as you start up the laptop.
It doesn’t take long to de-bug the laptop, but you make note to clean up whatever those spots are on the corner “Ugh, grOss dude, gross..” You clear your throat again, hoping that you aren’t getting sick as you open up the cinema times while swinging your feet in the air. Wait, “swinging your feet?” you say in your head as you look down to the worrisome large gap between your feet and the floor. You shake it off and scoot forward to reach the floor; assuming your brother probably messed with the chair or something as you decide on a movie and time. Swiping your phone open to text Mike and Charlie you catch a glance at your hand in alarm. Nails clipped nearly all the way down, hangnails on several fingers, small calluses on the palm, and “Is that a scar?” you exclaim in a higher pitched and nagging-familiar voice, seeing the light pink line across your right knuckles contrasting the unusually tanned skin of an small, thin foreign hand. In a moment of shocked disbelief your eyes continue up your *gulp* hairless but slightly defined arms to your white t-shirt that looks more like it’s hanging on a clothes hanger than your chest as a boney frame pokes through the fabric. An idle hand moves to your stomach as you’re examining yourself, taken aback by the flat bumps of a four-pack staring back from under the fist-full of t-shirt you raised up. “Whoa…that’s awesome” you say in awe of yourself, with your hands reaching to your toothpick of a neck in response to the raspy squeak of a voice on the cusp of puberty. As giddy adrenaline courses through you, your hands snake down to the baggy rumpled mess of the waistband of your shorts and boxers. Continuing along, you lightly squeeze the firm but shapeless twigs for legs that have the beginnings of athletic definition and readjust in your chair, moving farther back as your feet launch into the air from barely still touching the floor anyhow.
Yet through all of your fantastical realizations, the socks – and your brother’s shoes – fit perfectly. “Oh-okay...yeah…” You whisper under your breath, still processing everything that’s happened. Taking one big breath and hefting yourself out of the swivel chair, the adrenaline from your excitement tempts to shove your pounding heart through your scrawny solid chest as you stand. But standing ‘up’ wouldn’t be accurate as you’re barely above the eye-level you were while sitting in the chair. “Th-that’s greAt.” The moment comes you’ve been unconsciously avoiding as you crane your neck down to ‘that’ place where you’ve been avoiding in your obvious youthful shrinking. You move your mid-thigh draped t-shirt out of the way, and pull open the waistband of the red basketball shorts that threaten to fall off at any moment from your boney hips. Despite the ‘no ways, oh my gods’ and other exclamations you utter as your hands fondle over ‘little you’, your eyes can’t avert from the sight. A small taught ball of a scrotum with wisps of hair at the corners sits under your ‘manhood’ as you scream inside your head – you are barely into puberty – if there were any doubts; all of the fondling launching your dick to full mast, if you could even call 4” that.
You run your hand through your hair, taking in the mid-length shaggy forest that now crowns your head and pulling a blonde strand along with it. “Wait…now I’m blonde too!?” An unnerving courage stirs within you on that note, looking to the bathroom that houses the full length mirror adjacent to your now much larger appearing bedroom. You feel stiff at first as you walk to the bathroom, but change to a light energetic dash at the end. “Ugh, I bet I’m barely over 100lbs” you remark to yourself as you reach the bathroom. Opening the door only reaffirms your new height (or lack thereof), as you reach to the nearly chest high door handle. You whimper, “Oh man, I was tall too…kinda.”
The moment of truth comes as you turn around and close the door. The doubted suspicion in the back of your mind comes to fruition as you see your brother Benji staring back with piercing blue eyes wearing his brother’s, your, clothes. ”No – freakin’ – wAy!” you retort with a wide-eyed stare. “I’m…I’m…they work!” you shout as you bounce with a tingling childish energy thinking about the magic socks. Shaggy blonde hair? Check. Baby blues? Check. Soft button nose, thin lipped pouty mouth? Check and check. All of it was to the ‘T’ from your boyish unblemished face, ‘cute’ round ears, and mischievous grin on top of a scrawny but athletic body. “This is soo cool! And scary…but awesome!” you ramble to yourself as you continue turning, twisting, and trying out your brother’s voice. “I’m so short! Wait a minute…” You say as you look over to the side of the wall the door usually hides and spot the marks for you and your brother’s height charts. Glancing at how far away your last marks seem to be you measure yourself with your hand and turn around. “Four eleven? I…I lost a whole foot!” you stammer. You know your brother was a decent bit shorter than you, and hadn’t really hit another growth spurt yet, but the number was still a shock to see. It was short lived however, as a big childish grin crossed your face as you laugh. “This is so..just..wow” you say aloud, brimming with sheer bewilderment of hearing Benji’s voice for your own and taking in his drastically shorter perspective. “I’m gonna’ have so much fun with you” you comment as you bend over and rub your new magic socks.