This Won't End Well.

III

None of my clothes fit on this new body of mine. An entire wardrobe that was stocked full of the best graphic tees was promptly donated to Celia to cut into crop tops. My shorts were even worse, coming up about five inches from my knee cap.

"I can't do this," I stood with a pair of boxers on that were clearly too tight. My arms were crossed tightly across my chest, and Celia gazed at me.

"Sure you can. We just get to go shopping now."

"I can't go shopping if I don't have clothes. Last time I checked, I can't go to the mall in your ex-boyfriends hoodie and boxers that are acting like compression shorts."

"Then I'll go," she said standing up from her seat at the foot of my bed, "give me your debit card."

"It's in my jeans, you know the ones that don't fit anymore."

"Don't be an ass, I'll be back. Try not to be seen in the meantime."

"I'm not fucking leaving looking like this," I said and followed her to the door.

"Just watch TV until I get back."

I looked blankly at her, and shut the door as she walked through it.

"This is bullshit."

She was gone for three hours, at a mall that was only about fifteen minutes away. I was on the verge of cabin fever by the time she got home.

Celia lugged several bags in through the door, and placed them down just inside the threshold. The bags were from several different places, each had their brand printed on their faces.

What followed was several hours more of trying on the clothes. Not only the new things, but the things I had brought with me from home.

"How did you pay for all of this?" I asked watching as Celia grabbed another button up shirt from a bag.

"Uh, credit card?"

"Seriously?"

"You know, you don't look too bad. I don't know what kind of God you slept with, but he really gave you one hell of a body," she smiled.

I rolled my eyes, "I had a perfectly fine body before."

"I mean, sure. It was cute in a nerdy kind of way. And if you're into that, then all power to you."

"Do you really think this has something to do with the news story this morning, about the body." I shivered at the thought.

"I'm not ruling anything out," she said, "but I don't think you're capable of something like that."

"Have you seen me," I gestured to my face and chest, "I don't know what I'm capable of anymore. I look like a Greek god."

"I wouldn't get too full of myself, Greyson."

"What if I'm stuck like this forever? What then?" I questioned, and walked over to sit on my bed. The sheets were in the closet still, but I grabbed the blanket I had slept with.

Celia cane and sat next to me, "It's really not that bad if a prison to be stuck in."

I didn't eat that night. I kept my old clothes packed away, and sorted the new ones. I made the bed after pulling the comforter out of a box.

Celia started on an art project in her room, but she cane to check on me every now and again. I locked the door to my room, and to my bathroom.

I undressed, and kept my eyes from the mirror. I pulled back the shower curtain, and started the shower. The water was just as hot as I could stomach.

I wasn't used to having the shower head so close to my face, I took a breath and took a step further into the stream. Eyes closed and mouth open I let the water fill up to my lips before bowing my head down and letting it fall out. Water streamed down my spine, and it pulled my hair into my eyes. I felt the water start to drip off of my eyelashes, and I raised a hand to push back the hair that had fallen. My hand rested at the nape of my neck, I dug my nails in.

"Fuck..." I whispered.

My eyes snapped open. The water that ran down my body was bloody. I pulled my hand back to see the cause.

"Fuck!" I pulled back the curtain, and caught my eyes in the mirror. They pierced back a deep red color, just as dark as the blood that ran down my spine and over my shoulders.

"Everything alright in there?" Celia called from the other side of my bedroom door.

"I-uh-yeah, I'm fine!" I called out to her. I stepped out of the shower as calmly as possible, and grabbed a hand mirror from the vanity's drawer.

I looked at my neck in the reflection of the two mirrors. Nothing. No holes, no marks, no blood. I ran my hand over it carefully. I took a breath, and I could feel my pulse in my throat.

I whipped around again to look at my eyes. They were the same blue that they had changed to this morning. I leaned in so there was just about three inches from my face and the mirror.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked myself as I pulled at my face. I grabbed the towel that was hanging on the wall and wrapped it around my waist.

"This body sucks," I poked at the deep "V" shape that lead to the line of the towel.

"I just need sleep, it will go away. It will go away." I unlocked the door, and shut off the light at I walked into my room.

Celia didn't bother to buy pajamas, so I grabbed boxers from the drawer I had packed them in only hours before. I walked over to my bed, and pulled back the covers.

Orientation started tomorrow. ID picture, social interaction, I was doomed. I groaned, and grabbed a pillow and held it over my face. 

"Fuck....."