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[6] Aging and Changing

The next week was a nightmare, for sure. I was feeling ill, and four other voices were playing in my head, not just my conscious. One of them called herself Phoenix, or Fire Bird. Then, there was Aquaria. the Water Angel and Floraa, the Floral Goddess. Finally, there was Demoria, or Demon Slayer. Demoria whispered things to me. Sickly sweet promises of freedom filled my mind. I had no idea who or what these voices were, only that they wanted out. Out of me.

I had been stuck in bed for two weeks when my life seriously turned against me. I was sleeping peacefully, when all of a sudden, a searing pain shot up my spine. I awoke, shrieking and writhing in pain. My bones felt as though they were going to burst forth from my skin. Flashes of light from my heaving chest filled the room.

'Finally! More space! Freedom!' Demoria's sickly sweet voice squealed. I heard the whoosh of my door opening as everyone rushed into the room. The pain suddenly stopped, and every part of me felt different. I no longer felt sick, but there was a drumming in my head, like Demoria was banging on my skull. I stood up shakily with my back to what felt like an enormous crowd. I looked into the mirror that I had placed in the corner of my room, and I screamed like the people in the Switcheroo movies. My hair had somehow grown in length, and it was lighter than before. My lips were a deeper shade of red, my eyes had become darker, and I had grown myself. I no longer looked like fifteen year old me anymore. I looked...gorgeous. 

"Cynthia?" My dad called out, as if I had left everyone to go to a new universe. I turned to face everyone, and Aquaria giggled in my head. I focused my eyes on the floor, not daring to show anyone what I had morphed into. My hair covered my face, and everyone loves natural concealers. Someone stepped forward and tucked their finger under my chin. They lifted my head up and brushed my flowing hair out of my face.

"Sweetheart..." My dad whispered and pulled me into a hug. Tears stung my eyes as we embraced, since I never felt the warmth and welcome of my father's arms for as long as this.

'Cyn? You okay? Sorry about the pain.' Demoria apologized. I pulled away from my father and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ears.

"Well?" I asked. I wanted honest opinions on my new and forced improvement.

'Sweetie, you look gorgeous.' Phoenix said lovingly. They made me this way, so I wasn't. I felt  so artificial, all I needed was a red dress and black high heels.

"Lovely." Tony said with a smirk. At least he's making this a joke, I guess it's alright.

"How old is she now?" Bruce asked. As if the voices in my head could actually age me against my will. The girls would never forcefully strip the 'best' years of my life away.

"27 and still young!" I said, only it wasn't my voice. It was Demoria's voice. She had taken control of my everything for just a few seconds. This frightened me. If she could speak out for even just five seconds, what else could she do? What else could they all do? What if they override me, and take control of my entire body?

"Cynthia...?" Bruce started, but I cut him off as quickly as I could.

"Just my new voice impressions. Like them?" I recovered, a little rushed. Bruce looked a little skeptical, and that worried me. What if he didn't like me anymore? My thoughts were racing, if they were still my thoughts. What if the girls were already taking over? I wanted to scream again, but Demoria shut me up.

'Hey, keep your trap shut! we ain't gonna hurt you! But keep that Banner guy close. I like his other side...' Demoria whispered. 

'Um, eww. Demoria, back off. I sense Bruce and Cynthia may have a strong connection.' Aquaria whispered. Demoria huffed, and they all seemed to drip away. My sight went fuzzy, and sounds seemed to slip away for a second. I stumbled on the spot, but I regained my balance quickly.

"They're alright..." Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. I chuckled nervously, and I felt my face getting warmer. I turned away from everyone, and looked at the mirror again. I heard the shuffling of feet, and that let me know that mostly everyone had left. The door slid shut, and I turned back around. Bruce was still standing there, looking at the floor. He looked up at me, and I turned my head away.

"Please don't look at me. I'm a freak." I whispered, once again on the verge of tears. I couldn't take it anymore. First the sickness, then the pain, now the looks of a Goddess? It's all too much! I sat down on my bed and placed my face in my hands. Why couldn't I be born normal? Why couldn't I have had a normal childhood, with a mother and a father who's always there for me? Why must my world be flipped around, mirrored to what other lives are like. Most girls would laugh at me for not liking shopping trips and makeup. I was a tomboy, and now, I look like I belong on the cover of Cosmopolitan Magazine! 

"You're no freak. But, bad things happen to good people. Trust me, I know. And you aren't artificial. You're still the same Cynthia who became a friend of mine. Don't think so low of yourself." Bruce said quietly before exiting my room. I looked up just in time to see the door shut, and I whimpered. No one had ever been that nice to me. And he had just walked out of the room, not waiting for my response. What in God's name is happening? Damn....