Hi. So, my name's Leann Cartwright; and this is my story.
I was blessed with good genes by my parents: I stood 5', 11" tall, with a lean yet shapely figure. Add to that naturally blonde hair, and a face that screams girl next door, and you've got a combination that the modeling agencies would do anything this side of murder to get this package signed to them. Once I started sending my pictures out to them, it didn't take long for the offers to come. I was mulling them over, imagining myself as the next face of Victoria's Secret.
And then my world changed.
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It had been a month since the first cases of Toonmonia hit the news, so I pretty much knew what it meant when I developed a cold that medicine couldn't alleviate. Accordingly, I went to my local toon clinic and checked in. As the nurse, in her hazmat suit, brought me to my room, I held out hope that I would be one of those who became cartoon versions of themselves: that way, maybe I could hang on to my hopes for a modeling career.
I looked around the room, wondering how many patients had stayed there. It had that animation cel look that characterized everything that the toons came in contact with. Nevertheless, the mattress and sheets were comfortable.
******************************
When I awoke the next morning, my sinuses were clear; this usually meant that the transformation part of the virus's work had begun. I hopped down from the bed, ignoring a little voice telling me something was wrong, and walked to the bathroom to take a look at myself.
I almost wished I hadn't. The toon eyes and mouth I had expected, and was prepared for; the black nose, not so much. My heart sank. I was going to be an animal toon. Nobody wanted a cartoon animal in their clothes.
When I adjusted to that disappointment, I got a horrifying shock. The bathroom sink came farther up on me than it should. This fact ran squarely into that little voice I had been ignoring, but could ignore no longer: The reason I had to jump down from the bed was because my feet didn't reach the floor when I got up.
I fell to the floor, sobbing. Whatever cartoon animal I was becoming, it was smaller than I had been. And, deep inside, I knew I wasn't done shrinking, any more than I was done changing.
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