It was almost the weekend, and normally Jon would be elated by that fact. Now it was just a reminder that he was further away from a time when things could be considered normal. He cursed himself, and his grandfather. How could he have trusted him with something so dangerous? He felt so stupid.
As he rose from bed, he was reminded of what was presumably Sarah's most recent wish. Hair fell into his face, completely obscuring his vision until he brushed it back. He went over to his mirror and noticed that it was also now a sandy blonde color instead of the usual dark brown. His eyes looked even more blue, but he hoped that was just the morning light playing tricks. His face looked softer, and gone was the slight stubble Jon had hoped one day might produce a beard.
He felt smaller too, more slender. He guessed he'd lost a couple of inches in height, and his stomach was now flat and toned. His chest was puffy, but he'd be hard pressed to call them breasts. He couldn't deny it any longer. His body was becoming Sarah's. And rather quickly, it seemed. As distressing as that was, he took some solace in the fact that he still at least had his own personality.
Jon quickly scanned through his closet and dresser, thankful that his wardrobe wasn't changing. But when he left his bedroom, he knew he couldn't say the same for anyone else. In fact, it looked as though those changes were nearly complete. He looked at his family gathered around the breakfast table and noted today's universal outfit: An incredibly low cut, pink, spaghetti strap camisole top with some frilly ruffles along the neckline. A short, black, pleated skirt that barely came to mid-thigh, and went even shorter when they sat down. Opaque black over-the-knee socks. Black and white oxford booties with a four inch stiletto. A rhinestone studded headband, with matching bracelet and earrings. Pink lip gloss, smoky eyeshadow, and the hot pink manicure replaced by french tips.
Jon wouldn't have known any of those details if it hadn't been about the only thing his family talked about as they flitted about, getting ready for school and work. They scoffed at him as he joined them at the breakfast table. Mom, Dad, brother, and sister (though he wondered how much they still inhabited those roles) all gave him pretty much the same look, disapproving of his outfit, though his brother sort of complemented him on his hair.
"At least you're, like, growing it out. It would totally look cuter with a scrunchy or headband or something, though."
Jon wasn't sure how to feel. After days of being put down, he was finally getting a bit of praise. But he knew it would be a long day.
