"We're almost there, Nathan," my mother said as we drove to her boyfriend’s house on the hill outside the city.

I never liked him. He was one of those weird scientists, like the kind you see in horror movies. I half-expected Dracula or Frankenstein’s monster to come stumbling out of the building at any moment.

"Mom, did we have to move here?" I asked. You could tell I wasn’t happy about it. Honestly, I had said that about a hundred times before we even left the old house.

We pulled up to the creepy building. It looked like something straight out of Transylvania. Now, where were Scooby and the Gang when you needed them?

I looked around as I got out of the car, grabbing my only bag. We had sold most of our things before the move so we wouldn’t have to haul all our crap over here.

Her boyfriend George came out of the building and walked toward us.

"Hi, little squirt," he said in a friendly voice. He could tell I wasn’t thrilled, and he rushed over to Mom, giving her a big kiss on the lips. I felt like I was about to barf.

I went inside the building, not wanting to watch the lovebirds anymore. It was a hot day, so I headed to the kitchen for something to drink. Opening the fridge, I noticed there was nothing but water. Oh—wait—a bottle of soda?

"What brand is this?" I wondered aloud. I opened the bottle and, without thinking, chugged the whole thing.

"Yuck!" It tasted awful… but it was so refreshing, despite the weird flavor.

I wandered upstairs to find my room. The house was huge; I hoped I wouldn’t get lost. I could hear Mom and George entering the house downstairs. Mom was giggling, and I could tell they were heading to the kitchen.

I think I found my room. There were several rooms, but this one had a twin bed, while another had a king-size bed, so I figured this was mine. I walked inside and started unpacking into the dresser.

Downstairs, Mom was sitting at the table. George noticed she looked thirsty, so he went to the fridge.

"I hope you don’t mind water," he said. "I don’t have any other drinks at the moment. Otherwise, I’d offer you more choices."

"That’s fine, honey," Mom said with a sigh.

George grabbed a bottle of water and shut the fridge—then paused and opened it again.

"That’s strange..."

"What’s strange, dear?" Mom asked.

"I thought I put a bottle in here—a secret formula I was working on."

"What kind of formula?"

"Well... it’s just an experiment. I believe I’ve found a way to change male gender to female—without surgery. It could really help the transgender community." He paused. "The only problem is, I haven’t made a formula that works the other way. And even if I did, once someone changes, they can’t just take another dose and go back."

"I hope Nathan didn’t drink it."

"Well, we won’t know right away. It takes a few days to kick in. First, he’ll feel faint... then dizzy. He’ll black out. That’s when the changes begin. At first, he might not even notice, except for a few things—like if he has facial hair, it’ll stop growing. His hair will grow faster. He’ll start shrinking. Eventually, breasts will form. He might think it’s just man boobs. His... well... his penis will shrink, and—"

Just then, I walked into the kitchen. I hadn’t heard a word of what they were saying. I was just back for another drink. All they had was water—again.

I grabbed a bottle and turned to leave.

"Nathan, you didn’t happen to drink anything other than water earlier, did you?" George asked.

I thought I might get in trouble, so I lied.

"Of course not. I just grabbed a water and went to my room. Why? Was there something else in there I wasn’t supposed to touch?"

"No... maybe I put it in the downstairs fridge," George said, looking puzzled. "Run along now. Oh, did you find your room okay?"

"Yes," I said with a snarl.

"That’s good. By the way, there’s a big screen TV in the family room. I got a PlayStation 87 and a bunch of games. Hope you like them."

"Thanks," I said. Hmm. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all.

I went to the family room and nearly passed out from excitement. A massive 16-foot 3D Ultra High Definition flat screen with surround sound. I was in heaven. My friends would flip out if they saw this.

I turned the TV on. First thing that popped up? Night of the Living Dead. I jumped. You would too if a zombie your size suddenly filled the screen.

I grabbed the phone and called my friend Jack. He wasn’t busy and said he’d come over right away.

While I waited, I went into the kitchen for a snack. Mom and George were still there.

"Nathan, we need to talk," Mom said.

"What for? Did I do something wrong?"

"We found this bottle in the recycling bin," George said, locking eyes with me.

"I didn’t drink that!" I snapped.

"Don’t lie to us. Did you drink it?" George shouted.

"Why the fuck would you think I drank it?"

"Watch your language! Did you or didn’t you?"

"Sweetie..." Mom said in a soft voice. "Please tell the truth. It’s very important."

Sweetie? She never calls me sweetie.

"I’m sorry, Mom..." I started to cry. "I did drink it. I just didn’t want to get in trouble. And now I’m going to anyway."

Mom started crying too. She came over and gave me a big hug.

"I’m sorry too, sweetie," she whispered.

"Why exactly are you sorry? I’m the one who drank it and lied."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Uh, Mom, my friend’s here. Can I go, please? I won’t lie again." She nodded, and I went to answer the door.

Jack had brought another friend—Mike. We all headed to the family room.

The moment they saw the TV, they both froze.

"Whoa!" Jack gasped. "That’s one big mother of a TV!"

Mike was checking out the games. "Dude! You’ve got Legend of Zelda: Guardian of Time? That hasn’t even been released yet!"

"Don’t ask how George got it."

We didn’t want to start the Zelda game yet, so we popped in Brutalmania, a fighting game.

After a while, we got hungry. The kitchen was empty, but we found a bucket of Popeyes chicken and went to town on it. I hoped we wouldn’t get in trouble again, like with the soda.

"Wanna explore the house?" I asked. They were totally in.

We ran to the stairs.

"Race you to the top!" I shouted.

Usually, I was the fastest. But this time, I was dead last. My stomach turned, and I felt queasy. Probably just the heat.

"My room’s over here," I said, pointing.

We walked down the hall. I was getting dizzy.

"Nathan, are you okay?" Jack asked, steadying me.

"I guess so," I mumbled. "I just feel... weird. Help me to my bed."

We barely made it to the doorway before everything went dark.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

I kept hearing this annoying beeping sound. I didn’t know where it was coming from—or why. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Everything was bright, like I was staring directly at the sun. My vision began to focus.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Well, now I knew where the beeping was coming from. I was staring at a machine next to the bed. The room looked kind of like a hospital room… but it wasn’t. The bed was just a regular bed—no nurse call button, no medical posters on the wall, no sterile smell. Just... weird.

"Hello?" I called out.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. I expected a nurse or doctor to walk in. Someone professional. But no, it was a man in a white lab coat.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked.

"My name is Alfred," he said. "I’m George’s assistant. I work in his lab."

That explained who he was, but not why he was here—or more importantly, why I was here.

"Okay, great. Why are you here and why am I here?"

"Because I work here," he said flatly.

Okay... this was getting weirder by the second. I wasn’t in a hospital. I wasn’t in a clinic. That left only one possibility:

I was in George’s fucking laboratory.

"Why am I down here?" I asked, now uneasy.

Alfred didn’t answer. He just started typing something on a nearby computer. The keyboard clicks echoed in the silence.

"What are you doing?"

Still no answer.

Now I was really worried. I tried to sit up, only to realize I was strapped to the bed. My wrists, my ankles—tied down.

Alfred walked over, pulled out an IV needle, and stuck it into my arm without saying a word.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted, wincing as he drew blood.

Still no response.

He collected the vial, turned, and left the room.

A few seconds later, Mom walked in.

"Mom, why am I here?" I cried, my voice cracking.

She came straight to me and started unstrapping the restraints.

"I’m sorry we had to put you in here," she said gently. "It was just so George could run some tests on you."

"What kind of tests?!" I demanded as I sat up.

"I can’t explain it fully right now... but you’ll find out in a few days."

"What do you mean ‘a few days’?"

She didn’t answer. She just laughed awkwardly and stepped out of the room.

I followed her into the hall but couldn’t find her anywhere. That was fast. I glanced around the lower level and spotted Alfred and George in another room behind a locked door. I tried the handle—no luck.

Through the window, I could see them studying something on a screen. DNA samples, probably mine. It didn’t make sense. Why me?

I turned and headed back upstairs, trying to find Mom again. She was nowhere in sight. The whole house felt... empty.

And all my friends were gone.

I would’ve hoped they’d stay longer, at least until I woke up.

I flopped onto the couch and grabbed the phone.

Ring.

Ring.

"Nathan?!" Jack picked up. "Dude, what happened?!"

"I don’t know. No one’s telling me anything."

"You passed out right before you got to your room. George told us to leave. They said you'd be okay."

"I can’t just sit here doing nothing. Can I come over for a while?"

"Yeah, of course. Come over."

I hung up and looked around for the car keys.

Gone.

"Damn. Mom must’ve taken them."

I sighed and headed to the garage. I grabbed my ten-speed bike and started to pedal...

Psssshhhhhh.

Flat tire.

"This is not my day." I muttered, throwing the bike to the side.

Back inside, I grabbed the phone again.

"Hey Jack, can you pick me up? My bike’s useless and Mom took the car."

"Ah, man, sorry. My dad took our car to the shop."

"It’s fine. I’ll walk."

I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and a snack for the trip, and started walking down the long hill outside the house.

On my way to the garage, I put the broken bike back and noticed something in the corner—an old plastic sled. Not exactly winter, but...

"Well, it is downhill..."

I shrugged, grabbed the sled, and launched myself down the grassy hill.

It was faster—but not exactly safe. Every bump made me fly into the air and slam back down. I nearly broke my spine on the way.

I made it to the bottom, but the sled didn’t survive.

"So much for a shortcut."

I continued walking.

Everything was fine until this sudden pain hit me.

It was sharp. It was everywhere. My muscles cramped. My head throbbed. My stomach turned. I couldn’t take it.

I dropped to my knees.

Then everything went black again.

Back at the lab, George was studying the samples closely.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Nathan’s blood samples are extraordinary. It's already shifting from XY chromosomes to XX chromosomes. This isn’t anything like what I saw when I tested it on that rabbit a few days ago."

"Well, he did drink the whole bottle," Alfred pointed out. "You only gave a small portion to the rabbit."

"We’ve got to find him. Fast." George bolted from the room. "He has no idea what’s happening to him!"

Down the hill, I was just getting up from the ground when I spotted Jack pedaling toward me on his bike. He rolled up beside me.

"I was just coming to find you. I figured you’d be heading down the hill." He paused and squinted at me. "Dude, you need a haircut."

"What do you mean?" I said, running a hand through my hair. "I literally got a haircut a few days ago—what the fuck!"

My hair had grown several inches since this morning. It was longer, thicker, and I was still lying there, wincing from the pain all over my body.

Jack reached down and helped me to my feet.

"We should get you to the hospital," he said.

And I agreed. No way was I going back to the house. They’d probably strap me down again and run more weird tests. The hospital felt like the safer option—not to mention, I didn’t want to climb back up that giant hill.

We made it to the hospital in about three minutes. It wasn’t far, thankfully.

The moment we walked into the emergency room, I collapsed from the pain. Nurses and doctors rushed over.

One nurse brought a wheelchair over and helped me into it.

I didn’t even have to sign in—they rushed me straight to a room.

A doctor came in immediately and began examining me. A nurse entered soon after to take my info.

"Name? Address? Insurance? Phone number?"

Since I’d been there before, I only had to give my name and address.

They ran a few quick checks. One nurse came in to get my height and weight.

"Let’s stand up straight, Nathan," she said gently. "Okay, you’re 5 foot 6 and... 130 pounds."

"Wait—what?!" I blinked. "I’m not 5 foot 6! I was 5 foot 11 last week. That can’t be right!"

The nurse frowned and checked again. "Hold on... you’re now at exactly 5 feet—and 102 pounds." Her eyes widened. "Doctor Wheeler! We need assistance immediately!"

Doctor Wheeler came over quickly.

"What’s the issue?"

"I just checked Nathan’s height twice in a row," the nurse explained. "He said he was 5’11”, but the first read was 5’6”. A few seconds later, he measured 5 feet. Now it’s dropping again."

"Let me recheck you, son," Dr. Wheeler said calmly.

I stood again, heart pounding.

He adjusted the scale, measured, then stepped back slowly.

"Hmm... strange. You’re now 4 foot 3."

I lost it.

"What’s wrong with me?!" I cried, panic rising in my chest.

"I’m not sure," the doctor said. "But let’s draw some blood and run a full panel immediately."

Back at the house, Mom had just pulled into the driveway when George came rushing out the front door.

"Have you seen Nathan?" he asked, out of breath.

"No, I haven’t," Mom replied, calmly closing the car door. "I thought he was still with you when I left to pick up a few groceries."

George ran a hand through his hair, clearly panicking.

"Something terrible could be happening to your son right now! The transformation is progressing faster than expected. Instead of taking a few days... he’ll be a girl in a matter of minutes."

Mom paused, glanced at the grocery bags in her hands, and said with a shrug,
"Oh."
Then, without a hint of panic:
"Well, he’ll just have to learn his lesson about stealing."

Back at the hospital, a few doctors were examining me while I laid on the bed. Honestly, I was getting bored.

I started twirling my hair around my finger without thinking.

"What the fuck!" I shouted, sitting up. "My hair is really long now?!"

That’s when I noticed something else.

"Wait... my voice—why is it higher?" I looked at the nearest doctor, panicked. "What’s wrong with me?" I cried.

One of the doctors shook his head.
"We have no idea what’s going on. This is a first for all of us."

Just then, a nurse stepped into the room.

"Nathan," she said gently, "we tried calling your house, but the number has been disconnected. Do you have another number where we can reach your mother?"

I thought for a second.
"Well... we just moved into George Russell’s house up the hill today. I don’t know his number, but he should be in the phone directory."

Before the nurse could respond, a man walked into the room holding a folder.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Wheeler," he said. "I’ve got the test results from the lab."

Dr. Wheeler took the folder and started reading. His expression slowly changed—brows raising, eyes widening. He stared at me in stunned silence.

Then he took a deep breath.

"Well... I’ve got some good news and some bad news."

"Okay?" I said, already dreading it.

"The good news is: you’re perfectly healthy." He paused. "You’re a healthy little girl."

"I’m a what?!" My whole world spun. I could barely get the words out. I started to cry.

Dr. Wheeler grimaced.
"Unfortunately... that’s also the bad news."

He glanced back down at the folder.
"Your chromosomes have completely changed—from XY to XX. And... based on your current physical measurements and bloodwork, you’re now a preteen. Around age ten."