The Metamorphosis

It was the night before the big paper was due. The big paper analyzing Kafka’s Metamorphosis story. I was sweating because I had been slacking and hadn’t finished reading the story yet. Yes, I knew it was due the next day but let me tell you, I am one hell of a procrastinator. So having finished the paper at 11:59—with one minute to spare before canvas had a big red LATE stamp on my turned in assignment—I meekly crawled into my cloud of a bed.

The next morning came way too fast. My 11am alarm rang like it always did and I almost smashed my phone in an attempt to turn it off…like I always did. Except this time my hand came down a little more forcefully than it usually did. Upon further inspection my hand was a little more hairy than it usually was as well. At this point I was a little confused as to what was wrong, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next! I ripped back my sheets to reveal—the most shocking unbelievable thing that I had ever seen. A long shriek echoed out of my lungs. It went on so long that I didn’t even realize that I was making a sound anymore. A loud crash of my door shook me out of my tremor as my roommate stared at me. She also screamed but in a much higher pitch than I just had and ran out of the room with her hands in the air.

I had become a boy. I gingerly poked and prodded my body that was squished into tiny hello kitty boxers and a not-so-oversized tee shirt. I couldn’t believe it. I slowly got out of bed—the mattress groaning under the extra weight that I had gained—and walked to the mirror. My mouth dropped open. “Hey well you know, at least I’m a good looking guy!” I thought to myself. But what was I going to wear to class?

Chris, my boyfriend, had taken for ever to come over after I had texted him telling him, "it was an emergency and if he didn’t come now with at least 3 different outfits I would probably die.” (A little over-exaggerated, I know.) I opened the door and to my surprise he didn’t look very surprised.

 All I got out of him was a “hey babe, you look different. Are you wearing makeup today?”

Dumbfounded I stared at him. “Uhh.. Chris, I’m a dude.”

“Oh, that’s why you wanted me to bring the clothes then huh? Well I don’t know how to make outfits because I usually just put on whatever is clean but here ya go,” he said as he handed me the bag of clothes.

I scrambled to put them on. And looked at my reflection in the mirror again. Better now that I wasn’t in size 00 pink boxer shorts, but still not me.

Chris looked me up and down again, “Well, at least you’re a good looking guy?” he offered, shrugging his shoulders.

I punched him and he retracted “Ouch” he said. I was a little stronger than I thought I was. I smiled and threw another *light* punch. I thought to myself as a slight smirk crossed my face, “you know? This may turn out to be a little more fun than I had originally planned.”