chapter 2 - first night

When you get to your bedroom you take off your clothes and look in the mirror. You can already see a difference. This morning, your stomach was flat, and your legs were lean and muscular. Now, your stomach looks like a sausage roll, and your legs jiggle when you move them. Your boobs have also grown larger, but not by much. You don't look completely fat, but there is no way your boyfriend will find you attractive now. You'll probably have to live with this new body for the rest of your life. You begin searching for the sweat pants you know are in the bottom of your dresser.

Brittany comes into your room. "You'll never guess what I just found out!"

"A cure?" you say hopefully, as you finally find the sweat pants.

"No!" she laughs. "But... oh wow," she is looking at your naked body now. "Umm, I forgot what I was going to say."

"Go away," you say, turning away to look for a clean pair of loose fitting underwear and a baggy shirt.

"You don't know how lucky you are," she replies.

"Why?" you ask, finding a shirt that doesn't make you look pregnant. "How am I lucky?"

Brittany seems pre-occupied with looking at your body as she weighs her words carefully. Finally, she speaks, "You won't ever have to worry about starving to death?"

You finish buttoning up your shirt. "Yeah, because until now that was a major concern," you say sarcastically.

"I'm just trying to look on the bright side," she says.

Your stomach growls, and you both laugh. You feel your legs and butt grow a little bit fatter. You see your sister's eyes move down as she notices. You feel embarrassed, as if she has caught you doing something wrong.

"I'm still me, right?" you ask.

"Of course," she says. "You're just... juicier."

You decide not to respond. Instead, you walk downstairs and into the kitchen. Brittany follows you.

"Hey mom," you say.

"Oh my!" she says. "Look at you, sweetie! You're really... filling out!"

You roll your eyes. You find a Tupperware container filled with some leftover meat and pasta from dinner. You set it on the kitchen table.

"Do you think it's safe?" asks your mom hesitantly.

"What?" you say. "Eating?"

"Yes."

"It's not safe, but what am I going to do? Not eat?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," says your mom. "I should have thought that through before I said it."

You sigh. "It's OK." You microwave the food, then you and your mom sit down at the kitchen table. You begin to pick at your reheated leftovers.

Your sister sits down next to you. "I'm sorry about before," she says.

You shrug. "It's OK. We all forget what we're going to say sometimes."

"No, I mean about you..." your sister stops, looking again at your chubby legs.

"It's OK. Say what you want," you say, not wanting to hear it.

"I think you're beautiful, no matter what."

You look at her, smiling. She really is trying to be supportive. You can't help but smile. You feel your arms get fatter, and you sigh.

"Thanks," you say. "I appreciate it."

You eat your food in silence, noticing small weight gains in different parts of your body with each bite. When you finish, your mom stands up to clear the dishes.

"I'm going to bed," you say.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" asks your mom, stopping mid-dishwashing.
"I'm fine," you reply.

You notice that it takes more effort than usual to stand up. You take a few steps and feel your legs and butt jiggling. You stop and notice your sister staring. She looks away. You resume walking. You walk upstairs and into your bathroom. You look in the mirror, sighing. You look at your legs, noticing your butt has grown. Then, you look at your belly. It's already starting to stick out a little. You won't be able to fit into the skinny jeans that you usually wear. You look at your hands. Even your hands look fatter. You almost envy those starving kids.

You turn off the light, feeling a little scared in the dark. You crawl into bed and struggle to fall asleep. You're afraid that if you fall asleep, you'll be an immobile blob when you wake up. Eventually, you find your eyes glazing over.

"Night night, sweetie," you hear your mom say outside your bedroom door.
"Night night," you reply.