Becca lost the argument in the end, and she sat dejectedly in what had been the Madisons' guest room, wearing a dress. To be perfectly honest, she knew it wasn't a particularily frilly dress, and it wasn't even a girly color like pink - it was a pretty neutral light blue denim number. Still, it was a dress, and a very definite reminder of what had happened to her.
She had been trying not to think about it, but there was really no avoiding it. She had gone from being a buff teenage boy who was at least popular for his athletic prowess, if not his personality, to a little girl of six or seven, barely grade-school age, and limited in expression to what a normal girl her age would be capable of.
She wasn't quite sure that that was the worst aspect, but it certainly was annoying. She wasn't so limited internally - she could form more complex (and more visceral) thoughts and emotions, she just wasn't able to express them, not even to herself. She couldn't so much as think any of her more adult words; it was like they had been locked away in a vault in her mind.
The words weren't the only things, either; some of her adult knowledge had also been sealed off. She hadn't gotten stupid or anything, but much of what she learned later in life was difficult to recall. She remembered what she'd seen her parents doing, for instance, but when it came to putting a name on it, or even understanding it, she drew a blank. Becca took a little comfort in the fact that this was no worse now than when she first transformed, but it was still frightening. How long would it be before it returned to her? She didn't know.
Would it remain sealed away until she re-learned it? Was she really facing the prospect of growing back up as a girl? She looked around. Right now this was still obviously a guest room, but according to Mr. and Mrs. Madison, this was going to be her room. Was she going to live in here for the next ten years, growing up as a transplant into the Madison family? What might she be like by then? Would she be like the old Biff, or would her new experiences have shaped her into a different person? Would she even be able to tell?
It didn't really matter which possible outcome she considered; they were all scary in some way. It almost made her wish that she had fully regressed to a child in mind as well as in body. Maybe it would be worth it if she didn't have to worry about how scary and uncertain the future was. She pulled the blanket around her, the feeling of being surrounded by something soft and warm comforting her at least a little.
