I Feel Pretty
It was the start of the end of his life. The boy was moving again, and he hated it. Every year or so, his family would pack up and ship out, heading to some new town where no one knew who he was or what he was doing. The boy became a complete stranger to all, something that killed him inside every time it happened. All his friends he had known back in his old town were now gone, and new friends awaited him. Should he be excited? Probably. But he wasn't. He never was.
They were on Interstate 12. His father noticed his glum expression from the front seat. The boy was in the back, peering silently out the window.
"Come on sport," His father energetically chattered, "This'll be great! New friends, a new school, you're going to love it."
The boy grumbled and closed his eyes. He wanted to shut out everything around him. Consume himself inside his emotions. But he knew he couldn't. His parents were far too stubborn for that.
"It will be alright," His mother chimed in, "I know you hate this kind of thing, but just think of the change as a good thing. Some changes will always be unfriendly, but you have to accept them anyway. Ok?"
His mother reached back from the passenger seat and stroked the boy's hair. He shrugged off her hand, and attempted to fall into some sort of sleep. Anything to escape the world around him.
She must of had fallen asleep, as the vision around her was blurred and faded as her eyes opened. Something was different. Very different. The girl clambered into an upright position, frantically searching her surroundings. As far as she could tell, her surroundings hadn't changed much. She was still in the car, still dreadfully loathing the new town that would await her.
Her. She. Girl.
Suddenly, the world around her swirled. The realization of what had really changed confused her beyond belief. She forced her gaze down to her chest, where a weight she hadn't noticed before was resting silently. Breasts. Unfamiliar. The girl felt them through the green fabric of her sweater. They were hers. She was her.
The girl screamed abrubtly, hearing her voice for seemingly the first time. It was high pitched, squealy. Different. Immediately her mother and father jerked their faces to the back seat, searching for the cause of the scream.
"Sweety?" He mother cooed, "Are you alright? Bad dream?"
They didn't notice. The girl's mind was running in circles. How could they not notice what she had become? She. What she now was. In the midst of her mind's jog, another thought made itself apparent to her. Again her site was jerked down, this time to the plaid skirt laid across her thighs. Nothing. Nothing was beneath the skirt. Nothing was in between her legs. She felt as if all she had ever known now left her, and she was right. She tried to deny it. She tried to make it go away. Her life was something different, something new, she tried to force it out of her mind. But she couldn't. Her mind refused to deny what she now was. It began to tailor itself to the needs of her new body, and she couldn't deny it any longer.
She felt pretty.