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Drawn In

Part 11

A touch check told me that my hair now fell against the middle of my back. A moment before, I didn't feel like it was any longer. I had no idea how it had crept down without me noticing. I glared at the glowing female spirit books. Most of them just borrowed from old fantasy mythology anyway.

I made my way between the aisles and to the back where almost no one ventured. It was quiet. I crouched on the floor, sat down, and leaned against a shelf. With the high shelves and all the turns, no one would easily see me. I noticed I was in the mysteries and crime section with fiction behind me and non-fiction in front.

Crime was definitely something that survived in not-quite-idyllic reality. It had changed a few ways. All sorts of crimes against animated persons spiked for a while. Some were hate crimes, which especially got a lot of press. Others just seemed to be the normal sort of crimes that would've happened anyway. Although plenty speculated about the colorful attraction of the converted to criminals and suggested that animated people should "tone down their colors or not be so provocative" about them. Mom often chucked several, brutal things at the TV in frustration. Still, she warned Candace not to wear short skirts.

And then there were crimes committed by animated people. It wasn't a high percentage but you wouldn't know that from reports. Every single one of them got mentioned, especially that one creepy, pale-toned serial killer who looked like he stepped out of a horror graphic novel with the curve of his mouth line. There were probably several books about him on the shelf in front of me. They were making a movie about him too.

They caught him easily because, not surprisingly, having a face like something out of a horror graphic novel does cast suspicion on you. And then there were the animated traces left behind. Bits of converted skin look like they’re scraped off a piece of art and make matching easy. If you have a distinctive color and style then you're just asking for it as a criminal. It has become harder for police sketch artists though and easier for police line-ups.

Fingerprints changed the most. Which reminded me, I'd probably have to take new fingerprinting for my driver's license (and fill out a lot of paperwork). Animated fingerprints can vary wildly. Some styles show up too bright but essentially the same. Some don't have fingers or have no marks on their fingers. Then there's the ones with strange finger proportions which don't even fit the scanners. Of course, in places where it matters about verifying identity, I'd imagine a seven foot, black-lined man with an oversized torso, spindly arms, and a green afro (who I saw in the line at the DMV, trying to find paperwork for a visa) would be hard to mix up with anyone else. Granted, I once saw a girl at a park who, from the back, had the same style and hair color as my sister but it was clear when she turned around that she wasn't Candace.

Turning around to look at some of the books, I realized my hair felt even longer and was getting caught. Something which annoyed mom endlessly about her hair when she had it down. I pulled it out and kept finding more and more of it. Colorful, flowing, animated pink hair. It draped over my shoulder and landed on my lap. I stared at it and swallowed. My hair had to be long enough to just about touch the floor from where I was sitting.

I bolted to my feet and turned to check. So much hair everywhere. I puffed it out of my face and batted it aside. I really hoped this was as long as it was going to get. The texture was fully-animated and the color was that simple, shocking-pink tone. The shading underneath looked like a dark tint of pink. Anime style but not quite like mom's. Hers was more blended. Mine had a sharp distinction between the tones. Not too much to go on just from that. I figured that I also probably had a slight halo-effect even under the indoor lights. That happened in the sun for some animated people, a shine ring around the top of their heads.

I figured it was time to check where Candace was, since she had the only way of knowing how I looked now. I made my way around the curve of the aisle. It was such a blind curve that I bumped into a normal store clerk with a big brown box. He promptly apologized and then paused, staring at me. I heard a sound like a slurring of 'miss' and 'sir'. He tucked his lips in and simply repeated, "Sorry. You okay?"

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I nodded to him quickly and he hurried off with his parcel. I took a little bit of pride that I'd not gotten an automatic "miss" out of him. But still, that meant I had to be pretty far along. Touching my face gave no help. And trying to peer, crossed-eyed, at my nose only confirmed it still existed and wasn't reduced to a pen stroke. It didn't look as big though but then I typically ignored my nose.

Feeling all around, my clothes weren't any looser. Actually, my hips rose a little more. My waist felt different as well. Touching my arms and shoulders was inconclusive, especially with long sleeves. But they certainly didn't feel any bigger. Then, I carefully shifted my hands to my chest. Flat, for now.

My shoes were closer to sweaty moon boots with all I had inside to keep them from dropping off my feet but I was able to awkwardly walk through the turns of the shelves.

Of course, Candace wasn't up near the magazines anymore but Allison was. She flipped through a few gossip magazines but looked up when I approached. Her expression told me a lot. She bunched up her mouth line and concentrated on my face before looking over my body.

Before I could ask her what she saw, I noticed a quick flash from behind. Candace with the phone camera from over by discounted teen fiction. I raked at my hair to keep it out of my eyes and asked, "So…?"

Allison held concern in her expression. She fidgeted with her hands. Candace had to say for her, "You have a very girly face. But it's not animated yet." I knew that much. Candace passed me the phone. She'd caught me from behind with my head turned almost in profile.

My first thought should've been that I looked like someone photo-shopped a cartoon wig onto my otherwise normal face. Only it wasn't my normal face. The boyish shape I was used to had softened. My lips looked slighter, a sign they would soon shift to animated proportions. My nose didn't look different. But it was clear, especially with the hair, that my face looked feminine. So soft. Not even a hint of tomboy edge to dull the sentiment. It was a girly face.

But that wasn't what my first thought was. My first thought was how Candace had caught the shape of my body through the muddied lens of what I was wearing. It wasn't Candace's shape which showed lean shoulders and a slight dip to her hips. Nor was it Parker's curvy outline with wide hips. It looked closest to Allison's shape.

I had a slow, inward arch diving deepest at the waist which contrasted against my wide hips. But I wasn't curvy. At least not yet. I just looked like a teen girl in a drape of clothing. I sat on a small pile of magazines near Allison and passed the phone back to Candace. It was inevitable with everything so far but a whole other matter to see.

The strangest aspect was I didn't feel all that different. Sure my waist did feel a little more compact and my hips more spread out. My clothes definitely felt bigger and it was harder to see over some shelves. As well, I didn't expect such a change in my face but now that I had seen it I could point out more and more evidence of differences. The passage of changes without my noticing worried me.

Doctors had found that those undergoing animation were tough to track as test subjects. Mostly because of random onset and the difficulty of comparing one case to another. Eventually, they just decided to hire a couple thousand people and watch them all the time in a controlled setting. Only a few percent showed signs of conversion but they could cycle through and retain those who did change.

While they still hadn't found a specific moment when the change began, they did notice that those with the most radical style changes often didn't panic or freak. It tended to be those who only changed a little and who could still see their original faces that would have the most negative feelings and concerns throughout. They even reported tingling or slight burning in their skin. But even these few seemed to relax towards the end. Most speculated there was an analgesic effect with whatever was causing the change, to mollify the stress to the human body both mentally and biologically. Some even found themselves sleepier during the bulk of their conversion (those who didn't change while they were asleep). Some of those New Age works latched onto that as well.