The Lavender Butterfly

Chapter 9

“Hey,” a voice echoed in my head. “Open your eyes,” the voice continued. I opened my eyes. I looked around. I was in an auditorium, in a crowd of people, all seated, all eyes on a ballet number taking place onstage. I turned my head to the right and peered at myself seated next to me. Strangely, I was sitting beside myself, looking into what appeared to be a mirror image of myself. “No, open. Your. Eyes.” My facsimile expressed to me slowly. I gave myself a puzzled look. “What are you doing here? What is going on? What are you even talking about?" I looked at the ballet dancers onstage, trying to ignore the apparition of myself sitting next to me. He leaned into my ear and whispered, “I know who you are…….who you want to be…….and who you have always been.” He continued, “and you don’t even know it.” I looked back at him angrily. “Let me repeat myself – What are you talking about?!” I loudly exclaimed. I leaned into my reflection, face to face. “You don’t even know me,” I grumbled to myself. “You don’t even know who you are. Look closer…” the reflection replied. I looked back at the stage and looked at the dancers on stage. Like the day before, dancing beautifully in unison, dressed in ballet tights, and sequined leotards that sparkled in the lights on the stage. I blinked, squinted, and looked again. Upon further examination, all the dancers on the stage had my face. My vision became blurry, and the room started to spin. I looked at the seat next to me. The copy of myself was gone. I looked down and saw that I was wearing the same sequined leotard that the dancers were wearing onstage. “No…..please stop,” I said to myself. “PLEASE!!!” I screamed. The music began to get louder and louder until it was deafening. The room began to spin even more intensely until everything was a blur. A hand reached out to me. A young girl’s voice said to me, “Take my hand. Don’t be afraid. This……is your dance.” I took her hand and closed my eyes. I found myself on stage, room still spinning. I looked around, sweating profusely into my leotard. The crowd was rumbling and getting restless. I began to take my first step, and everything went black, as I collapsed onto the stage floor. The audience gasped. I struggled to breathe, gasping for air. “Is this it?” I thought. “Is this the end? Am I dying?” I felt a biting cold chill, as I abruptly sprang up in bed. Looking around, I saw that I was back in the hotel room, drenched in a cold sweat. Meredith sprang up as well. “Are you okay?” she said groggily. “Yes,” I replied. “Just a bad dream.” The chill became overwhelming, as I clutched myself, shivering, still sitting upright in bed. Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach, as I ran to the bathroom, dropped to the toilet and vomited violently and repeatedly. I sat there, clutching the toilet, sweat dripping from my body.  Every muscle in my body was clenching. I felt every muscle throbbing in pain. The cold chills turned into a feverish sweltering heat. I crawled to the sink, pulled myself up and splashed my face with cold water and fell back onto the floor. “Is everything okay?” Meredith said as she opened the door and saw me sprawled out on the floor. “No,” I replied. “I feel terrible. I’m going to hop in the shower, hopefully it will make me feel better.” “Okay, just take care of yourself. Let me know if you need anything.” Meredith said, as she closed the door behind her. I fell limp on the floor, and then picked myself up and carried myself into the shower. I turned the shower on and felt the hot water massaging my face and my chest, then I turned around and felt the heavy stream massaging my back. I felt intense relief. I took a deep breath and every inch of my body relaxed at once. The respite was short-lived however, as I soon felt intense pressure all over my body, suddenly my head felt like it was in a vise. My shoulders and hips felt like they were being crushed. My legs felt limp as I collapsed on the shower floor. I curled up into fetal position while my body felt like it was being crushed. It was, by far, the most intense pain I have ever experienced in my entire life. I let out a blood-curdling scream. I screamed repeatedly, each scream getting higher and higher in pitch.  I struggled to breathe, the room spinning. The room looked like it had gotten much larger. Meredith barged into the bathroom. “What is going on—who the hell are you?! How did you get in here?” she yelled. “I’m Chris, Meredith! I am your husb—” I paused, noticing the change in my voice. The voice was not my own, but that of a young girl. “Don’t bullshit me!” She screamed. “Who are you and what did you do with Chris?!” “I AM CHRIS!!!!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. The bathroom went silent, aside from the sound of the running shower. Meredith leaned over me and turned off the shower. Meredith, distraught, examined the walls and ceiling of the bathroom, trying to come up with an explanation for what had happened. She appeared to have found none. Meredith nervously mumbled, “I was awake the entire time you were in the bathroom, you couldn’t have—no, there’s no way—I…” “It’s me……Chris….” I repeated, softly this time. Meredith buried her face in her hands. “How did this happen?! What the hell is going on here? I watched you run into the bathroom…. there’s simply no way…. simply no explanation……I….” She trailed off as she started sobbing. I picked myself up off the shower floor and wrapped my arms and squeezed her waist fearfully. I was startled when it occurred to me that my face was buried in her chest. Had I shrunk? I looked into the mirror. I had to outstretch my feet to see myself in the mirror. I gazed upon my reflection and what I saw hit me with the force of a speeding freight train. I stagged backwards. What I saw in the mirror was a young girl, no older than thirteen years of age. Long, wet, dark brown curly hair, with dark brown eyes. The same hair color, eye color, and the complexion of my old self. I looked like a young pre-teenaged female version of myself. I put my hands on my face, my arms, and my legs. My skin was smooth and soft, not even a trace of body hair. I ran my hands across my chest and felt that I had grown breasts. They were small in size, not fully developed, but they certainly weren’t there before. I reached down between my legs and felt that my male anatomy had changed. I was, in all sense, a young female. “I really am a girl,” I said, bursting into tears. “It’s okay,” Meredith embraced me and placed her hand on the back of my head, running her hands through my soft, long hair. “Let’s get you a towel,” she said, pulling a towel off the towel rack as she wrapped a dry towel around me. I quickly stormed out of the bathroom and immediately fell face first onto the bed, burying my face in the blanket. “I still don’t know how this could have happened,” Meredith said, still in shock of what just transpired. I stolidly muttered into the bedsheets, “This hotel is haunted……that’s the only explanation. This must be a nightmare…” Meredith sat silent for a moment, then summoned me off the bed and embraced me warmly. “We’ll get through this. If this hotel is truly haunted, then hopefully it is just a temporary spell that came over you. Let’s go back to bed and get some sleep.” I clutched her tightly, never wanting to ever let go. “I’m so scared…” I said, sobbing. “Shh….” She said, trying to relax me. “I’m sure the spell will be broken come morning and you will be back to your old self.” I replied, “Yeah……hopefully.” Although I had a feeling that I may be stuck like this for a while, hoping to myself that this wasn’t permanent. Meredith soothed me, gently stroking her hands through my hair. I felt safe. I felt calm for once. That’s not to say I didn’t want my old body back, but I could at least close my eyes and drift off to sleep and hope that the spell would wear off in the morning.