I blinked a couple of times, a great number of questions running through my head, not the least of which was, “Where am I?”
Looking around gave me a quick, quite basic answer – on a sidewalk – but that didn’t help me very much. It seemed like a familiar sidewalk, yet there was something strange about it, something that made it feel unfamiliar at the same time. That feeling only grew worse when I stood, making everything start to spin slightly.
I reached up to take my earbuds out, wondering if it might not help to be able to hear as well. It might have worked better, were I on a less boring street, but it’s the thought that counts.
I was starting to get a headache just from looking around, as my eyes tried to take in everything, something it normally would have had no problem with, but now, when everything looked wrong in some way I couldn’t quite place, I wasn’t surprised. I wanted to sit down; other than the sidewalk, however, there wasn’t really any place to do so.
What had happened to me? My memory felt fuzzy, hard to focus on. I wondered briefly if I’d gotten mugged, but that wasn’t really the sort of thing to happen in this place, certainly not while it was still bright out.
So what then? I could recall looking at the book, and grabbing the CDs, and heading out, and I thought I remembered a car pulling up next to me, but there didn’t seem to be anything connecting any of that with where I was now. In fact, I realized, looking around, I didn’t even have the CDs anymore. Had I gone to Keith’s already? Why couldn’t I remember it? Could it have gone -that- badly?
But wait, there was something else, something right on the edge of my memory. I had a feeling it was important somehow, if I could only figure it out. I decided to sit down after all, even closing my eyes as I did my best to concentrate, putting everything into trying to salvage that one piece of the puzzle, before it was too late and my memory erased it forever, overwriting it with some insignificant little thing, like how many lights were on in the house behind me, or the sound of a car a few streets over, or the shape of the mailbox a block down.
That last thought made me pause, heart fluttering momentarily as I realized that perhaps it was a clue to what I was trying to remember. Before I could figure out how, unfortunately, I found myself pulled out of my meditation by a sudden feeling of warmth around my bottom.
My eyes sprang open as I forced my bladder back under my control. I hadn’t had an accident in… well, I couldn’t even remember how long! Certainly, a very long time. What was wrong with me? How serious was whatever had caused this sudden loss of memory?
I glanced down at the crotch of my pants, making sure I couldn’t see a wet spot there, while lifting my bottom and feeling there as well. Luckily, it seemed as if I’d stopped myself before causing any serious damage to anything beyond my panties – not that that wasn’t bad enough. But while I was checking, I noticed a few other things.
First of all, my pants had seemed to have grown appliques of ladybugs on the pockets, staring up at me with smiling faces. Secondly, my shirt, which was a bit low-cut, I admit, had grown an extra patch of fabric, nullifying that act of immodesty. However, the third thing made that rather irrelevant, as I realized that, somehow, I no longer had anything to show off with a shirt like the one I had originally put on.
My hands darted up to my chest, as if expecting to find my breasts hiding there. “Wh-What’s happening?” I asked out loud, followed by a gasp as I heard how high my voice had suddenly become. A slow, impossible realization dawned on me considering why everything had seemed so odd when I’d come to, or whatever I’d done. Everything looked huge, far bigger than it should.
I reached up further, to my hair, pulling some in front of my face. All of it was blonde, as was the handful from the other side I looked at. My hands looked smaller, too, more soft and fragile somehow, my fingernails painted bright pink, a color I hadn’t tolerated in years.
“Oh, crap,” I whispered, letting go of my hair before clenching my little hands into fists. “What the hell is going on?!” At another time, it might have been funny to hear my kiddy voice cursing, even as lightly as that, but I wasn’t in the mood to be amused.