His fingers grasped at his cheeks within the small stall. it felt like they had been dragged down without his noticing in the classroom. The skin seemed looser and flabby. It disgusted him to even feel it, wondering what the hell had even gone wrong. He leaned against the graffitied wall, drawing his hand away and hit his head against said wall at the sight of it. It wasn’t his hand, it couldn’t be. Thick, yellowing fingernails and smattering of moles that weren’t his own, black coarse hair, leading from his hand down his arm, his entire arm. His heart was racing now, faster than it got ever have had been going until his chest was constricting in one continuous beat. All the while, his fingernails continued to grow longer, curling and the arm hair grey right in front of his eyes. His shoes were suddenly too small, his t-shirt was stopping him from breathing with how tight it grew and besides the sides of his head he felt his hair grow long to his shoulder before falling from his scalp in grey clumps. His fingers turned from pink to deathly pale the skin on them straining over the bone beneath and with that his heart stop. The body of the old man fell to the floor his fragile bones cracking with the impact. Whatever they thought of the body they found in high school bathrooms, at least the man had lived a long life.