He slumped against the wall, not actually in physical pain but not quite knowing how to control his changing body, moaning softly. He hoped it would stop soon. He regretted ever making that stupid wish more with each second.
Finally, the sensation passed, and Sam stumbled, his gait entirely different than it had been before. He had to struggle to walk back inside, although it was growing easier with each step to master it.
He paused and looked at himself more closely. His complexion had changed, certainly fairer than it was before. He bent his new longer fingers experimentally. They seemed to work well enough, but the longer legs were a bit of a challenge as well.
He had to tell someone what was going on. He ran up the stairs, and nearly bumped into one of the Goth girls. Goths were into occult and things, weren't they? He thought. "I need to..." He trailed off as he heard his voice. He didn't even sound like himself anymore. His voice sounded higher-pitched. Sam covered his mouth.
"You need to what?" The Goth asked him.
"I..." he tried again. "You believe in magic and stuff, right? Something is happening to me, and I need help."
"And you think I can help?" The girl seemed a bit puzzled by that.
