Transfiguration

I sat on a white medical table, wearing a paper gown, looking down at a photo in my hand.

The picture resembled an anthropomorphic Australian Shepherd. It seemed to wave at the observer, smiling while wearing a pair of glasses, as well as sporting a shaggy hairdo. It was my dream to be this creature, my fantasy since I was little. But now that it could come true, I was very cautious. Would the result be what I expected? Would it be worth the price?

A simple transfiguration like this is pretty cheap, only $1200. Most cost upwards of $3000-5000, or more. But I didn't care about the monetary price, money can be gained back. What about the physical price? Would I be less of a person? Would I lose myself?

I looked at my human body, taking it in for the last time before the pill that would begin my relatively slow transfiguration. The doctor told me I'd look relatively similar to my transfiguration within a week and a half, and the complete transfiguration would be finished in at least three weeks. I planned to take the pill today. If I did, I'd be completely transfigured before the winter break was over.

While I was taking in the final look of my human body, the doctor entered the room. He held a small prescription bottle with a single pill inside. I put away the photo, and the doctor, Dr. Prescott, smiled at me.

"Well, the pill is complete," he said matter-of-a-factly. "Your transfigured self will be close as medically possible to how you envision it." Dr. Prescott walked over to the sink, pouring me a glass of water to take the pill. "You think you're ready, Peter?"

Oh yeah, I forgot to say my name. I'm Peter by the way. What I looked like here doesn't matter, I won't be this way for long.

Anyways, I took a deep breath, then looked into the mirror in front of me. I grabbed my phone, taking a picture of my human self for the last time.

"Yeah.. I think I'm ready." I look to the doctor, nodding with confidence.

Dr. Prescott handed me the water and the pill bottle. With a nervous hand, I accepted them, putting the cup down and unscrewing the lid to the bottle. I opened it, letting the pill fall into my hand. The physical weight of the white and red colored pill in my hand paled in comparison to the weight of the uncertainty it contained.

"Remember, after taking the pill, there's no going back," the doctor warned.

I looked up to him, nodding, then closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and opening them. I took the pill, washing it down with half the glass of water.

No turning back.