On My Own

Being on my own was... enjoyable. No one there to tell you what to do, how to do it, or what they thought of you. I could live like this. I cautiously joined the group that was peering over the edge of the cliff, which I had just "committed suicide" over. It was risky I know, but I wanted to make sure that people believed it. I had never had any pictures taken of me, and after a few days people would forget about me anyways. So I figured I would wait until that time and then I figured I would be safe.

"Did he jump?" "I heard a gunshot!" "Who was he? He looked like a kid!" "I don't see him... where is his body?" "It looked like he waved before he fell! Was he crazy!?!"

Good. It was a convincing performance. Mission Accomplished.

I slowly walked away, keeping my head down and trying to not appear suspicious. If the girl I met a couple weeks ago recognized me and knew I was leaving others might as well. That would bring up questions. Questions meant police. Police meant bad stuff. I walked downtown and made my way to the department store. Something had come to my mind and I wanted to give it a try.

I made my way to the shoe section, picked up a pair of shoes and went for the changing room. I needed another disguise, which meant I needed another pair of shoes. But what would happen if the shoes had never been worn? My normal shoe size was like... a 7 I think... these were size 11. I stuck them on my feet... nothing seemed to be happening. Then I felt the tingle again, but this tingle was... different.

I looked at my arms and legs, and they were growing longer, but the changes didn't seem to be as pronounced. When the sensation stopped, I stood up and went to the mirror. I gasped. It was still me but I was older. I looked 16 or 17 years old! Quickly I slipped the shoes off and went to the shoe rack again this time picking a smaller pair of shoes. When I was back in the changing room I squeezed my feet into the size 4 shoes. My feet didn't go in all the way, and I wondered if that would matter. Apparently it didn't. The tingling came back and my arms began to shrink in size until I looked about 10.

I was starting to take the shoes off when the room went bright white. I was startled and I couldn't see. It was as if the sun was in the changing room with me. Gradually the room began to dim, but it was no longer the changing room I had been in before.

A voice yelled behind me in a language I didn't understand. I was in a body, but I couldn't control it. I heard a gunshot behind me and the body ducked instinctively. More gunshots and the snarling of dogs followed behind. There was the crack of a gun and the body fell forwards. It turned and suddenly there were men running towards it... me. The body scrambled to get up, and then drew its own gun. The men following dove for cover as the gun in the body's hands kicked and flared. Then we were running again, the body and me. We turned the corner and were confronted by a room of crying babies.

I sat up. The vision was gone, and I was in the changing room. Nobody was trying to get in so I assumed nobody had heard or seen what I had. I was shaking. I was sweating. I crawled over to the size 11 pair of shoes and put them on. When the tingling stopped I stumbled out of the room, out of the shop, and into the street.

The End

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