Karmic Classroom

I

I crack open one eye cautiously, then the other. And.....

Hang on a minute, this isn't my cell. Since when did I have a four-poster bed with velvet curtains?

I stumble out of bed, nearly breaking my neck when my foot gets tangled in the miles of blankets. I'm wearing some sort of weird nightgown thing, all scratchy linen and way too breezy around the nethers. I shuffle over to the window, hoping to get my bearings, but instead of the grassy fields outside the prison, I'm shown the sight of a random 7-Eleven across the street.

What the hell?

I pinch myself hard, maybe I'll wake back up in my slightly rat-infested cell, but no such luck.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a polished mirror hanging on the wall and do a double-take. That's not my face. I mean, it is, but not MY face.

This face is a few years younger, maybe 16? 17? But I think the most important detail, is that it's a woman's face.

Call it shock or whatever, but I couldn't do anything but just stare.

Perched atop my—no, her—slight frame was indeed two modest but undeniably feminine bumps. I tentatively reached up a hand to touch my chest, in awe as the girl in the mirror did the same.

I examined the girl's delicate hands, they were slim fingers and well-manicured nails. 

I groaned and pressed my forehead against the cool glass. As if adolescence wasn't challenging enough the first time around. Now I had to navigate it in an entirely foreign form, with all the societal expectations and unspoken rules that came with it. I wouldn't even be able to pee standing up anymore. A little giggle bubbled up in my throat at the thought.

"Sophia!" a woman's voice suddenly called from downstairs, startling me. "What was that noise? Did you fall? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine!" I called back automatically, then clapped a hand over my mouth. The voice that came out was higher and breathier than I was used to. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm fine... Just tripped is all." Even to my own ears, the words sounded so uncertain.

There was a pause, then the creak of footsteps on the stairs. My eyes widened in panic. I wasn't ready to see anyone like this! And that's not even mentioning that the nightgown was already partly see through, shouldn't I get change or something!? I cast about frantically for something, anything to cover myself with.

Spying a fluffy pink towel hung on the back of the door, I lunged for it, misjudged the distance, and promptly tripped over the hem of my nightgown...again. I landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor with a muffled "oof" just as the door swung open.

"Sophia, what on earth..." My (assumed) new mother trailed off, taking in the sight of her (supposed) daughter sprawled in a tangle of limbs and bedclothes.

I raised my head and offered her a weak grin, absently brushing an errant curl out of my eyes. "Uh...morning...I'm, er...practicing my forward rolls....for... field hockey?"

The woman folded her arms across her chest, clearly unimpressed. "Uh huh. And I suppose next you'll tell me the reason your room looks like a cyclone hit it is because you're practicing your dribbling as well?"

Wrong sport...

"Noooo..." I hedged, though now that I looked around, 'cyclone' was a fairly apt descriptor for the state of the small bedroom. Clothes and books lay scattered, a chair was overturned, and the duvet hung half off the bed. I winced. Was I the cause? Or is this girl just a mess?

I pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly as my center of gravity shifted in ways I wasn't accustomed to. "I m-mean, I was just, uh...I was actually....looking for my lucky...hairbrush," I finished lamely, grabbing the first object that came to hand off the dresser.