Silent Heroes: Wildcat

Chapter 4: Reflections

I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief.  The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't.  I had the same thick, dark, curly hair.  The same hazel eyes and.  The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose.

But my curls were now streaked with highlights.  And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer.  No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips.  It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon.  Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born.

My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous.  The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them.  And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat.

I looked down at my body.  My skinny arms—which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised—were lined with flat, wiry muscles.  My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth.  My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer.  I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath.

My entire body was rippling with strength.  Like liquid steel.

 Am I dreaming?  I wondered, meeting my own unnaturally wide, luminous eyes once again in the mirror.  How was this possible? Had someone out there been slipping me steroids?  That would explain the muscles and maybe the excessive energy as well.  But, what about the hair?  It seemed unlikely that someone had snuck into my room and dyed it while I was sleeping.  I supposed it could be some kind of weird side-effect, but whoever heard of steroids turning giving a person blond highlights?

"Eve?"  My mothers voice drifted up the stairs as if it was coming from a hundred miles away.  "Are you almost ready? You don't want to be late!"

I tried to answer, but the words got stuck somewhere in the region of my adam's apple.  I flexed my arms, watching as my biceps bulged and the muscles along my triceps and forearms became even more sharply defined.

This is crazy, I thought.  This is absolutely insane.

"Eve!"

I cleared my throat, struggling to bring myself back to reality.  "I'm coming!" I yelled back towards the door.  "Almost finished!"

Shaking my head, I finished getting dressed and headed downstairs.

To this day, I have no idea what went on in the kitchen that morning.   I must have eaten breakfast, but it passed through my lips without leaving the faintest impression on my senses.  It was like I was chewing on air.  My parents were busy chatting away on either side of me.  My mother asked about my hair again (I actually knew what she was talking about this time).  My father mentioned that I was looking exceptionally fit this morning.  I forgot my responses ten seconds after giving them.  I was so inattentive that I accidentally walked straight into the divider between the kitchen and the dining room on my way to deposit my dishes in the sink. 

"Eve!  Be careful!" my mother said.

"There's a wall there," my father added helpfully.

I mumbled something vague and raced back up to my room, taking the steps two at a time.

I no more remember how I got through the rest of the morning than I remember how I got through breakfast.  All I do know is that I was continually glancing at myself in the mirror, approaching it from different angles, turning my body one way and then the other, as if it would somehow alter what I saw.  Every time, I naively expected to find my old, normal self looking back at me through the glass and every time I instead found the strange creature I had become.