it soon became a living nightmare. a hell inescapable. the girl couldn't look into a mirror in fear of getting angry, or overwhelmed, or simply smashing it until there was no reflection left. until there was no way of seeing the hazel sharpness of someone else's eyes. the short black hair flopping over to one side... the taller, bulkier physique she wasn't used to. she couldn't bare it for one more day. she slammed the door open and stumbled into the box sized office in a teary eyed frenzy. there may have been silence in that room but she found no peace, not while she was practically screaming for help inside. the poor female fell down to her knees before the cream sofa, fighting for stable breath. letting the tear drops fall at their own pace, she focused on the shaking hands attached to the body she now owned. large, pale, veiny, masculine hands connected to arms twice the size of hers. she also longed to feel her long purple hair glide across her face when she hunched over in emotional agony. but the girl was stuck with a boys undercut where the open air reminded her of her mortifying situation even if she didn't have a mirror. being stuck in his body was a hell she dreaded was permanent.