Feeling Of Missing Out

Your New Life

Huh? What was all that? I straighten up from my slumped position in front of the computer screen. I don't remember the mouse being on the floor when I feel asleep. Or the mouse mat. Or all of these pens and various other bits and bobs which are now scattered on the carpet beneath the desk. 

Weirdly, I'm unable to reach the mouse with my foot. I would usually just retrieve the mouse by dragging it with my foot. This time, I can't physically reach it from here. And is it just me or do my feet look smaller? I don't know what happened to me, but I'm all out of sorts. I crawl under the desk to fetch the mouse and the mat, and stay down a little longer to tidy the other objects that fell when I dozed off. My hands look weirdly smaller too. This is a whole new level of tired. It has to be.

Already out of the chair through impromptu organisation, I may as well have a walk around. Maybe then, I'll start feeling more like me. My room doesn't look so foreign to me. The walls mostly look exactly as I left them from what I can make out. Despite the feeling of being drugged to a whole new level, I decide that tablets wouldn't be a bad move. I keep those in the cupboard.

The grey-ish doors swing open and...OK, this all looks very different. Firstly, who put all of these bits of paper on the inside of the door? What do they even say? That would be a better starting point.

On the various small rectangular sheets of paper are dates. They are stuck on to the door with Blu-Tac, so I pull on down that reads '16/8/2005.' And it all comes flooding back.

Whoever Dysphor was - that weird demon in the strange hallucinations I just went through - he knows who I am. It's a very elaborate way to spook someone, whoever has managed to pull such a thing off. I turn the sheet over and read:

'Skye has her first day at school. She shows her friends who's the best at football! She looked super cute in her dress, too.'

So...it really did reflect into real life. People are going to think that I was always a girl throughout school? Wait a minute! My hands rush to grab the sheet which reads the most recent date of the bunch in such a haste that a slight tear appears in the top-right corner:

'An 11 year old Skye Christie undergoes a male-to-female gender reassignment. The operation is a total success, and Skye no longer produces any testosterone. She proceeds to make a full recovery.' Well, I can't understand how he can make everyone just believe I've had an operation that I haven't.

I really need to use the bathroom all of a sudden. Still not quite understanding how everything looks slightly smaller, I think I could just need to rid myself of whatever toxins are causing this elongated illusion. I pull my tights down, lift my skirt up and spin to sit in the correct position. I'll just look straight ahead at the door as nature takes its course and I take its call. I can't look at my hands or feet - they still look so bizarre to me. How tired am I? OK, time to wipe. I guess I can at least confirm that the bane of my existence is still h-

I grip the towel rail, just so I don't pass out in shock. It...isn't...here. Suddenly, everything turns pink, then white. Then black.

When my eyes start to squint open again, it's Katie who I see first.

"Mum! Dad! She's waking up!"

Mum and Dad rush over to her side, so I can see all 3 when my eyes do fully open.

"That gas must be some potent stuff! They were going to wake you after the op, but they just left you to sleep it off. How are you feeling?"

"'m alrt." OK brain, sure. That was English. "whr was I?"

"You were getting your big op done, petal." Where have I heard that nickname so often recently? "It'll be 5-7 days before you see what they've done. I'm sure it'll be everything you've always wanted!"

Katie smiles. "And I'm sure you'll be very popular too! Just don't go getting ideas of boyfriends or anything like that! Not until you're at least 20!"