Part 2

(From Calliope’s POV):

My Dad hates fat people.

I don’t know why that just popped into my head, but for some reason it did.  It was weird, because I thought about this just as I was leaving English and my friend Marissa still hadn’t gotten up from the table (her eyes were bugged out for some reason).  Anyway, I know this because every time we walk past a fat person he makes big retching noises and says “Ugh, gross! How can someone live that way?” I whisper for him to keep his voice down.  I always feel like these people can hear him.  And I don’t get why he feels that way.

I don’t have to worry about my figure at least- I’ve got a good one, with really nice boobs.  Admittedly I have not weighed myself in a long time, and I can only ever focus on my girls when I look at my reflection, but I’m still young, I don’t have to worry about weight or think about what I eat.

My Mom is skinny as a beanpole. She doesn’t really have boobs, but this isn’t fair to say because she had to have some breast tissue removed when she had breast cancer. My Mom has been acting very weird lately.  I mean, she’s weird in general, so guess that’s not too out of the ordinary.  But the other day she said to me,  “I love your curves Calliope. You have beautiful curves. I wish I had curves like yours. But you have to remember not to let your stomach hang out over your pants.” That’s when I start wondering what on Earth she’s talking about. Like I said, she’s so weird.

I lie on my bed and fondle my stomach. It’s soft and malleable, smooth and rolling. Good thing I haven’t got a belly down there, or who knows what my parents would think. And then because my bra is feeling way tight and too constraining I slide it off while cupping my boobs to keep them warm, and appreciating their roundness.  Then when I realize I’m starving I decide it is time for some comfort food...

Later on I go and weigh myself, not because I’m worried, just ‘cause it’s been nagging me a bit. I step on. 135lbs! But at 5’6” I should only be 130, max. Shaking my head, I step off. That stupid thing obviously has been knocked off scale again; I’ll have to get my mother to fix it before I try again.

(Revert back to 3rd person):

Marissa tossed and turned all throughout her sleep that night.  She had the strangest dreams that their was something, something inside her, inside her heart, inside her mind, in her blood, in every fiber of her being, something which had long been dormant, but which was now pulsating coming to life.

But by morning all her dreams were forgotten.

Marissa tossed and turned all throughout her sleep that night.  She had the strangest dreams that their was something, something inside her, inside her heart, inside her mind, in her blood, in every fiber of her being, something which had long been dormant, but which was now pulsating coming to life.

Rifling through her drawers, she pulled out a bra a size or two too large given to her by a snooty cousin who knew it wouldn’t fit, so she gave it to Marissa anyway to tease her about being less busty. Stupid cousin.  Marissa found herself desperately wishing she could outdo her cousin, impossible as that seemed.  As she thought about this, she had the oddest sensation of zoning out, but she came to a second later, and started to dress, pulling on an oddly tight fitting T-shirt and some skinny jeans. Then turning back toward the mirror, she gasped, gawked, and ogled.

The neckline of her shirt was bursting with cleavage fitting very snuggly under the ill-fitting shirt whose hem ridden up past her navel due to the new and hefty chest.  She couldn’t figure out how this had happened, but as she stared at herself, she felt herself zoning out again... but came to when she saw her body move! Or at least the fat on it did. She realized that was it! When she was in that spacey state mind, she subconsciously changed her appearance by moving around her body fat. Focusing this time, she took more fat from her belly hips and thighs and added it to her expanded bust. Realizing this new development was a bit too big, and that people would think they were fake she redistributed some of the fat, so that instead of going from an A-cup to a double D, she only became a C.  Marissa left for school jovial, wondering what the limitations of this power were, and whether this new power might work on others...