(no subject)
Every day, Amelia checked her stomach.
It had become a ritual for her. She would wake up, lying on her back, covers usually kicked off in the night, exposing her. Slowly she would bring both her hands up to rest on top of her belly, while her neck craned just as slowly to look down at herself.
She had never been self-conscious about her body before. Why should she be? She was hot, and she knew it. She had quite possibly the most amazing breasts, and she wore midriff tops without shame or hesitation.
Or she had, anyway. Not anymore. For once in her life she was glad of the voluminous black (slimming!) robes that were the required school uniform. What had formerly been the curse of obscuring her curves had suddenly become a blessing.
She felt bigger every day.
On some level she knew it was ridiculous- it had barely even been a month; there was no way she should even be showing yet. She still felt like a whale.
One morning she brought her hand mirror down to the bathroom, taking it with her into the stall and locking the door behind her. She stuck the mirror on the back of the door and began to enlarge it, stretching it until it filled the space. There were full-length mirrors in the dormitories, of course, but there was no privacy there. She couldn't bear to imagine what the other girls would think.
Tentatively she stripped herself of her pyjama top and, after steeling herself with a deep breath, and cracked her eyes open to look.
She looked massive. Her body expanded in all directions. Stretching the mirror had warped her reflection, making her look distorted and grotesque. She choked back a sob, stumbling backwards onto the toilet seat. She felt suddenly nauseated, and put her head between her knees, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself down.
Eventually the nausea passed, and she sat up again, shakily. But she couldn't look at the mirror again. It was too much. She put her face in her hands, and sobbed.