Sarah - now in an absolute panic - started to scream for help. Soon her mother had rushed into the room, crying "Sarah, what's happened? You're screaming bloody murder..." as she came into the room.
"Mom..." Sarah sniveled and wept, her arms out-stretched and imploring her for help. "...I...I don't know what's happened to me. I...I had these dreams..."
Sarah's mother sighed and gathered Sarah in her arms, rocking the blubbery girl and saying sugery, sweet things to her like she was a child. Sarah let herself be held - it did calm her down - but after a momant, asked "Mom, what could have happened to me?"
"What do you mean, punkin?" her mother asked, brushing Sarah's long, blond hair from her face.
"Are you blind? Looke at me! I'm...I'm a blimp! I must be...like, 300 pounds!"
Kyla McMillan arched an eyebrow at that, then said "Well, closer to 500 at your last checkup, but it's...well, natural for a girl with your...condition. After all, after your accident with those diet drugs..."
"Honey? Is Sarah alright?" called her father from down stairs.
"Yes, Nathan...she'd fine. Just having a case of the panics." she called, before standing and saying to Sarah "Look...what's done is done, and I thought we were through with it. You were the one who took those illegal metabolism pills you bought online - banned everywhere - and you're the one who abused them and...did this to yourself. Just be glad that you didn't die, like some of the others who've abused them."
Kyla disentangled herself from her thunderously obese daughter, and Sarah just sat on the edge of her much larger and sturdier bed. Sarah looked in the mirror that hung on the back of her closet...and saw the true horror reflected back at her.
The Sarah McMillan reflected back at her was indeed fat. No...not just fat, but the sort of obesity that one usually saw in a circus or on a Jerry Springer program. The sight of her swollen, bloated body made her cringe and want to cry. A great, round belly. A pair of huge, pillowy breasts. A butt that projected like a big, soft shelf of dimpled blubber. Legs that were so thick from billowy thigh to blubbery cankle, that she knew she couldn't do much more than waddle fast. Arms that were bloated, thick and heavy...
...but her face...
Aside for the extra fat...she looked just as she had the previous evening. Her hair was long, blond and silky soft, and it tumbled in thick waves to just past her shoulders. She raised her hands to her rounded, triple-chinned face, and saw neatly manicured nails on short, stubby fingers on the ends of her fat hands. Her complexion was the same well-cared for Peaches and Cream with a hint of tan that she'd worked on for years. She saw some pictures mounted on the wall, and saw her middle school cheerleading and gymnastics photos. Then one of her just as she'd remembered a few years ago - thin and athletic as she entered highschool. But then...two photos of herself. One showed a plump-sliding-into-fat version of herself in a newspaper clipping, titled "Another case of Metaba-Max abuse", and one last picture. A photo of a huge, obese Sarah in her last school picture. In the photo, she was dressed stylishly, though covering more of her skin that was usual for her. She smiled, but it was the smile of a girl who was trying to keep her spirits up. It was a smile that said she wasn't smiling on the inside, but was trying to hide it.
"This...isn't true..." she said aloud, as she inspected her naked body. She wanted to cry, but instead she waddled slowly - the only way she seemed able to move - and looked in her bathroom. The signs of recent work were there, and her shower was three-times the size it had been. Her mother entered again, and squeezed past her, saying "I'll have breakfast ready in a half an hour, punkin. Get showered and dressed. Do you need any help, or can you manage on your own today?"
"I'll...I'll be fine." she muttered, knowing she wouldn't. Could this day get any worse?
