A/N: Hello again, and welcome back, readers! Here's Prompt #2! Oh, yes, and please R&R ASAP! I like feedback a lot.

PS. I forgot to mention it, but I know the last story wasn't that realistic, and I know it wasn't. It wasn't supposed to be realistic. So, yeah…that's about all.

Prompt #2: You wake up, go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. A different face stares back at you. Begin your story here.

I didn't feel the tension creep up my spine, past tightened, clenched nerves. I didn't feel the little slip of cold travelling up from my feet to my head, igniting the butterflies in my stomach so that they made a racket until finally calming. I didn't feel any of this because I was too absorbed in what I was—or wasn't—to notice.

I didn't look like myself—and even more than that, I wasn't myself. Something had taken over me, changing my shape, clawing out all things that marked me as me to become an alien; totally different with no remnants of yesterday.

I checked the ticking clock, my heart pounding. It was the only sound I was focusing on now, and it had been ticking for quite a while, never stopping, always the exact same silent space between it. Just like it had been left yesterday. Just like everything had been left now as it was yesterday. Everything…except for me.

Why?

Why was I not like I had left myself yesterday? Why was I different? Why was I changed? Why had it all happened to me? Why was there someone else, someone different, cold, alien, uninviting, staring back at myself in my bathroom mirror?

I doubted anyone else would notice. No one had noticed when I had dyed my hair red, or gotten my nose pierced. No one had noticed when I dressed entirely in neon green for an entire week straight. No one had noticed when I laughed, when I cried, when I went about doing anything.

No one noticed.

If no one had noticed, why should I care? Maybe it was better this way. Maybe people would like this face, this hair, this head. Maybe people would like me now that I had changed into something fake. Something unreal. Something terrible and bone-chilling to myself, but to them…who knew?

Maybe…

I sighed. 7:53. The bus came at 8, and it left me exactly 7 minutes to get ready for it's arrival. My heart was getting me hyped. If people were going to notice me with this face, I needed makeup. Not only makeup, but I needed my most bold pair of clothes, and some razor-sharp earrings. I needed to streak my new, bold chestnut hair behind my head. I needed to get ready.

By eight, I was completely ready and for the first time, my heart swelled when I saw the bus curving down my lane. I clamored onto the bus, looking excitedly around at the bored-stiff kids talking quietly among themselves.

I nodded to one of the hot guys that I had a crush on. "Sup?" I asked him.

He looked at me like I had pushed him into a pile of mud. "What—who are you?" he asked with disgust. "I don't think you belong on this bus, pig."

A chorus of mean laughter echoed after me. Wiping tears from my eyes, I fled to an empty row at the back of the bus.

Maybe I didn't want all this attention. The old me was better than this—at least it didn't get me embarrassed in front of everyone. My face was the doing. It was the enemy; the one I should try to destroy. But how? I couldn't comprehend how I could be my own enemy. I just couldn't.

Tick. Tick. The clock was in my mind, ticking. Always ticking. The same as yesterday, the same as yesterday…all I wanted was to be the same as yesterday.