Pjay Albin October 27th th 12 grade English Essay: 3-6 pages METAMORPHOSIS The sun poured in my window, right

into my eyes. Tightly, I kept them closed and turned over to my side to escape the blinding light of morning and attempted to pull the covers over my face, attempted was the key word. My arm fell on the covers but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grab them; I laid there for minutes uselessly trying to grab the covers and pull them up over me. Sighing internally, I gave up and brought my arm up to where it laid before my sad attempts and tried to go back to sleep until my alarm clock went off. I opened my eyes slowly while smacking my hand down on my nightstand to turn off the annoying buzzing that sounded ten times louder than other mornings but when I did, the noise of nails scratching wood sounded through my room. With that, my eyes shot open; the first thing I saw was this long, snout like thing protruding off of my face into the air a few inches. Blinking rapidly, I sat up to realize that I didn't sit as high as I normally did when I sat up; to be honest, it felt like I had slightly shrunk. I looked quickly at the arm that smacked my nightstand but instead of a normal arm and hand, I saw a furry arm with an average size paw, I suppose, at the end where my hand should be. Quickly, I shook my head only to have it hit on the sides by two floppy, light weight things that felt attached to my head. When I stopped, I looked to one side of my head and leaned my head forward slightly only to have a floppy ear fall in front of my eyes. With the movement of my new ears, the ringing of the alarm clock found its way back to the front of my mind. Focusing on the ringing, I began to really hear how much louder it sounded then yesterday, and, as if my ears were wondering how much louder, one lifted up on its own and the ringing flooded even louder into my head. Without thinking, I jumped up on four legs, which was an entirely new feeling, and backed away from the noise quickly while my floppy ears pressed tightly against my head. It wasn't the most graceful motion, while backing away on my bed, I lost balance several times because of the new feeling of walking on four legs, plus, while I was focused on keeping my four-legged balance, I wasn't paying attention and I fell off the bed. When I hit the ground, a weird yelp left my throat and mouth that I hadn't ever done before along with the pain on something pulling on something attached to my very lower back. I looked down to the pain quickly to see a furry tail lying underneath my back. Rocking to my side, I put myself up right and looked back at the furry tail that was obviously attached to me; it was lying limply on the floor as if it had no purpose at the moment. "Pjay? Are you ok?" My mom's voice broke the silence that had filled my room after my thud and yelp when I hit the floor. At the sound of her voice, I felt the furry tail tugging side to side on my lower back; when I turned, I saw the tail wagging side to side. I sat in silence examining it, "Why is it wagging?" I had almost forgotten about my mom's question until I heard her walk up a few of our steps, I was surprised at my hearing, normally, I wouldn't have heard her until she was at my door. The side to side tugging picked up, "Obviously, my tail wags at sounds and noises."

I thought to myself and then answered my mom, "I'm fine." I yelled back...But I found it hard to form my mouth into the right forms to say the words, so it came out slurred and void of certain letters that my mouth wouldn't and couldn't form. I suppose she understood for the most part because she walked down the few steps she had taken and yelled up the stairwell, "Just be ready to leave in thirty minutes for school." My ears shot up and the ringing flooded in them again but I didn't care this time, "Did she say school?" I looked up at the clock on my wall to see that it read seven A.M. My mind jumped quickly from issue to issue, "I have to get ready, take a shower, turn off the alarm clock, fix my hair, turn off the alarm clock, brush my teeth, turn off the alarm clock, pack my lunch, and turn off the alarm clock" And, as if on cue, the alarm clock began to gradually get louder as if it was trying to get my undivided attention. Once again, my ears pressed down on my head in reaction to the noise. I ran up to the table, rather clumsily, and took a look around again. I was much shorter than usual but not as short as I thought I was when I first woke up; not counting my ears when they stuck up, my head was a head taller than my bed, which, I would guess, is about three feet off the ground. I tried to reach my paw up to hit the alarm clock, but I couldn't lift it that high while standing, so I jumped up and tried to rest myself on the table, but I lost balance as did the table and we both fell to the ground. To my ears' joy, the ringing stopped and as I lifted my head off the ground, I saw the reason why: my alarm clock smashed into pieces when the nightstand fell on the floor. "Oh man, moms going to kill me." I worried over an explanation to tell my mom briefly when the smell of something terrific flowed through my room and met my nose. Instantly, I sniffed the air and could clearly tell what my dad was fixing for breakfast: a fried egg on toast with cheddar cheese on top. My mouth flew open and I began to pant quickly, nothing but getting to the food was on my mind, as if everything else was small and insignificant. As I was beginning to walk to my bedroom door, I heard footsteps behind it coming towards my room and at that second, finding out who the person behind my door was most important and the food was as insignificant as everything else before it. I tilted my head to the side and stared at the bottom of the door where I could see the shadows of the person behind it. "Samantha, are you still in there?" My mom's voice sounded confused but my tail still wagged like it did before at the sound of a voice. "Yes, Mom." I heard her stop in her tracks, "What did you say?" What did she mean? Wasn't that a clear enough answer, I mean, I annunciated every word slowly and clearly, right? "I'm still in here." I spoke extremely slow while I stared at her shadow coming under the door carefully. Before I could react, the door flung open hitting me in the nose and I stepped back yelping, my nose was way more sensitive than it was before, I'd have to remember that for future reference. Quickly, I turned my gaze up at my mom who was staring at me with wide eyes and an unreadable expression. My attention went back to my height; I'd have to say my head was about to my mom's waist. After my brain's detour, I brought my attention back to my mom who was still just staring at me; I was getting impatient and I was about to say something until she finally spoke, "Pjay?" Once again, I felt my head tilt to the side; of course it was me, who else would it be? Since she didnt understand me when I was speaking, I simply gave my head a nod, my ears bouncing with it. She dropped down in front of me and looked me in the eyes; I didn't know what she was looking for but whatever it was, she found it because she stood up and I could've sworn I saw tears fall down her face. "It's not possible!" With that, she ran out the room, leaving me in my thoughts. Again, the smell of food came through my room and my thoughts all scattered away as I began to

follow the smell down to the kitchen. Once at the bottom of the steps, I saw my mom frantically explaining to my dad who looked as confused as I felt. My paws made contact with the wood floor of the downstairs and made a light taping noise because of the claws; both of my parents turned and looked at me, and understanding along with concerned covered my dad's face. "Are you saying that's Pjay?!" My mom simply nodded and my dad shook his head. Since then, nothing has been the same. The first few months, my family didn't know how to react to my metamorphosis and I think that they still don't to this day or perhaps they're too used to it. The first winter of my new "life", if you could even call it that, they shoved me into sweaters so I wouldn't be cold, but no matter how many times I tried to stop them, to tell them that I had fur now, I didn't needs sweaters, the still forced me in them. Food was an entirely different story; they thought that because of my transformation, I would need to eat food fit for what I was so, they hoped, I'd be healthier and live longer. Little did they know that it tasted like cardboard, so I refused to eat for days until eventually hunger got the best of me and I took a few regretful bites of the terrible food then laid down on the couch. Eventually, they realized I didn't like it, and started feeding me little bits of their dinner from the table. It felt absolutely degrading, sitting under the table, begging to be feed the food I was used to as they all sat straight in their seats and looked at me with eyes filled with pity. They also used to include me on everything they were doing as if I had never changed. Family vacations, I was right by their side, family time, I was beside them and in on all the jokes and laughs. But, as time went on and they began to get used to my new form and get busy in their lives, I began to be left home during vacations and became a bother at family time when I would wag my tail and the pieces flew off the game boards so I was told to stay downstairs while they went to play upstairs. I'd become exactly what I looked like to them, a pet, something to take care of. Over these three long years, I'd watched myself grow less and less active. I used to run around the house and outside, I used to wag my tail and run to the door when they came home, I never could sit still. But that was years ago, somewhere along the way, when I realized I was a "pet", I lost all energy and drive to be playful, to greet them happily when they came home. All I did now, was lay on the couch all day drifting in and out of sleep, occasionally getting up to move to the floor and sleep. Just the other day, they scolded me for shedding throughout the house as if I could help it, but what hurt the worst is the fact that I shed when I was human but no one complained then. Now that I'm a pet, I'm easy to put the blame on, easy to love one second and forget the next, and, unfortunately, I was becoming used to it. I was no longer complaining to myself about all the things they were doing, I was dealing with it and certain things no longer made me upset; I was losing my humanity beneath all this fur because it was slowly being taken away from me. One day, I have no doubt, inside and out, I'll be a pet like they think I am now if things continue the way they are, but for now, inside, I'm still human, waiting and dreading the day the metamorphosis finally reaches me inside.