I wasn’t me anymore

I woke up feeling... wrong. Heavy. Like my limbs had been filled with lead, each movement sluggish, weighed down by an unfamiliar sensation.

My body felt strange too warm, too stiff, too foreign. As I blinked against the soft, hazy light filtering through my eyelids, I could tell something was off. This wasn't my bed.

The sheets weren't the cheap, scratchy ones I had at home, nor was the faint scent of dust that I was used to.

Instead, my skin brushed against something silky, cool to the touch. The air smelled sweet, a mix of lavender and something floral, like freshly picked roses. It was overwhelming, almost suffocating, in its richness.

My eyes fluttered open, and the world around me came into focus. A grand room stretched out before me, the likes of which I'd only seen in movies or fancy magazines. The ceiling was high, arched, with delicate golden trim outlining every curve.

The walls were draped in lush, crimson tapestries, embroidered with intricate patterns that gleamed in the sunlight pouring in from massive windows.

The floor was marble, polished to a shine, and a soft, ornate rug covered the space around the massive bed I lay in.

My breath caught in my throat. This was no dorm room, no modest family home. I was somewhere... extravagant.

I tried to sit up, but the weight pulling me down was overwhelming. My limbs felt thick and heavy, like they didn't belong to me.

Panic shot through me as I pushed the silk covers off my body, the effort making me feel like I was pushing through quicksand. Something was very, very wrong.

As I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, I wobbled, my balance completely off.

My feet sank into the plush rug beneath me, but it felt like I was standing on unstable ground, like my body wasn't used to moving in this way. I reached out to steady myself on the edge of a nearby table, my fingers brushing against cold metal.

That's when I noticed my hands.

They were small. Small and soft, chubby even. My fingers were stubby, short, and round. I stared at them, turning them over, flexing my fingers as if trying to make sense of the foreign shape. My heart pounded in my chest, a wave of nausea rolling through me.

"What the...?" My voice came out in a whisper, hoarse and shaky.

I stumbled across the room, desperate to find some sort of anchor, something to ground me. I needed a mirror. I needed to see what was happening. My body felt entirely alien no longer lean and athletic but something else entirely.

Across the room, beside a grand dresser, I spotted a full-length mirror framed in gold. My breath hitched as I made my way toward it, my legs moving awkwardly, unsteady with each step. I felt heavy, my limbs cumbersome, like they didn't quite belong to me anymore.

I stopped in front of the mirror, gripping the edges of the frame for support. My reflection stared back at me, and what I saw sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't me.

A young girl, no older than ten, stood in the mirror. Her face was round, cheeks full and flushed with a soft pink. Her dark hair was cropped short, like mine, but everything else about her was... different.

She was incredibly overweight. Her arms, her legs, her stomach everything was rounder, fuller than anything I had ever been. I felt the soft flesh of my stomach press against the loose, ornate gown I was wearing.

I raised a trembling hand to my face, and the girl in the mirror did the same. My chubby fingers pressed against my round, soft cheeks, feeling the warmth of my skin, the unfamiliar shape of my body.

"No... this can't be..."

I took a step back, the world spinning around me. This wasn't possible. I wasn't a child. I wasn't... this. I had been an athlete. I had been strong, fast, lean from years of basketball training. My body had been mine familiar, toned, and capable.

But now, as I stared at this reflection, it felt like I was trapped in a body that didn't belong to me.

My chest heaved with shallow breaths as I staggered away from the mirror, the weight of this new body making each movement clumsy, unnatural.

I caught the edge of the dresser, my hand slipping on the polished surface as I tried to steady myself. The room swayed as panic bubbled up inside me.

"What is this?" I whispered, my voice trembling with disbelief. "What's happening?"

I stumbled across the room, my movements awkward and unfamiliar, like I was learning to walk all over again.

My legs felt sluggish, heavy with the unfamiliar weight pressing down on me.

Each step was an effort, my balance constantly shifting. I felt like I was fighting against my own body, like every inch of me was resisting this strange reality.

My heart raced as I reached the windows, pulling back the heavy curtains to reveal the world outside. But even the view was alien to me.

Rolling hills of green stretched as far as I could see, dotted with towering castles and golden spires. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, too perfect, too bright. This wasn't anywhere I recognized.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, trying to calm the storm of confusion raging in my mind.

"This can't be real. This has to be some kind of dream," I muttered to myself, but the weight of my body, the softness of my limbs, the unfamiliar room around me—all of it felt too vivid, too tangible to be a dream.

I turned away from the window, feeling a lump form in my throat as my eyes swept over the luxurious room again.

Everything was pristine, ornate, and overwhelming. But none of it explained what had happened to me, or why I was in the body of this young, overweight girl.

I took a deep breath, my hand brushing against the unfamiliar curve of my stomach, the soft, round shape that felt so foreign to me. I felt trapped trapped in a body that wasn't mine, in a world that made no sense.

I didn't know where I was, who I was supposed to be, or why any of this was happening. All I knew was that nothing was the same. And as much as I tried to calm myself, to find some logical explanation, one thought kept pounding in my head with relentless certainty:

I wasn't me anymore.