Walk to the beach

— Oh God, oh God, oh God, — muttered Marcus, feeling fear tighten around his throat. His own voice sounded… high and soft, completely unrecognizable. The heavy belly pulled him downward along with the new, unfamiliar weight of breasts. With every step, his back strained, his lower back throbbed, and his legs felt like they were about to give out from exhaustion. This was nothing like his usual light step; it was a slow, awkward shuffle, as if he had to calculate every movement to avoid losing control.

"This is impossible… it can't be," he thought, touching his stomach again, refusing to believe what was happening. The unfamiliar, heavy breasts, barely covered by an unbuttoned shirt, bounced with each step. All of it seemed utterly impossible. Yet, judging by the sensations, it was disturbingly real.

He'd just been walking to the beach with his friends. Everything was as usual — the sun, the ocean breeze, the pebbles underfoot — and then, out of nowhere, there was this blinding flash, like someone had shone a spotlight right in his face. And when his vision returned, he was… in the body of a pregnant woman. Marcus froze, stunned, staring at his hands — slim, delicate, utterly foreign.

— Hey, what are you standing around for? — came a cheerful shout from somewhere behind him.

He looked up abruptly. Up ahead, his friends were walking, as relaxed and clueless as they’d been just a few minutes ago. They waved at him, wondering why she’d stopped, and shouted something back.

Marcus tensed at the sound of their voices. He reflexively raised a hand, intending to wave and call them over to figure this out, but then stopped short, realizing how absurd it must look — they were seeing not him, but a strange, pregnant woman in an unbuttoned men’s shirt.

— Hey! Marsha! We’re waiting! — called Nick, frowning slightly. — Are you coming or what?

Marcus froze at the unfamiliar name — Marsha? He looked around, as if there could be other people nearby his friends were calling to, but it was clear they were addressing him. Him… as Marsha?

— Marsha! Are you coming or what? — Nick called again, taking a step forward and looking at him with mild annoyance. — What’s keeping you? Are you okay?

At that moment, Liz stepped past Nick and ran up to Marcus.

— Marsha, you don’t look too good! — Liz approached, her face showing genuine concern. — Are you tired? You really need to sit down.

Marcus, trembling inwardly from tension, nodded, struggling to contain the rising wave of panic. He had no idea how to explain to his friends that he wasn’t Marsha, that just a few minutes ago, he had been a completely different person.

— Yeah… I just… I’m… — he managed to say, lowering his gaze. His own voice, soft and feminine, threw him off even more, reminding him of what had happened with every word he spoke.

— Come on, let’s get you to some shade, — Liz said gently, taking him by the arm as though he might collapse at any moment. — You need to rest. We really should have driven here, given your condition.

Marcus swallowed hard, trying to calm his growing terror. "In your condition" echoed in his mind. Liz gently led him to a nearby bench, and Marcus, afraid of stumbling or losing balance, obediently followed, feeling the unfamiliar heaviness of his belly pulling him forward, his back aching, and his legs filled with a dragging exhaustion he’d never known before.

Finally reaching the bench, he sat down carefully, trying not to let his belly fall forward. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the dizziness.

— You… you all think I’m Marsha?! — the words escaped his lips, his soft voice a hoarse whisper, sounding so foreign to him that he quickly shut his mouth, glancing around in fear.

Liz raised her eyebrows in surprise, her gaze becoming even more worried.

— Um… Marsha, what are you talking about? — she asked cautiously, trying to make sense of her friend’s strange behavior.

— Well, are you guys coming or what?! — someone shouted from their group, clearly annoyed at the holdup.

— Hey! We’re here with a pregnant friend, okay?! — Liz shot back, throwing an irritated look at the group. — Maybe a little patience, huh?

Marcus wanted to argue, to tell her that he wasn’t who she thought he was, but he knew how absurd it would sound. Liz was both anxious and annoyed at their friends for not understanding. She turned back to him, gently squeezing his hand.

— It’s okay, Marsha, — she said reassuringly. — Just sit down and catch your breath. I know this isn’t easy for you.

— I was just walking, then there was this flash, and… and everything changed! — Marcus blurted out, his chest tightening with despair. He fell silent, realizing that the more he said, the crazier it sounded.

Liz, pale, stared at him in complete bewilderment, as though she had no idea what to do.

— I know it’s hard to do this alone, — she began carefully, looking at him with sympathy. — But you’re strong, Marsha, and you’ve already proven it. You’ve gotten through so much: working three jobs, constantly moving. I remember you joking that you were tired of filthy, cheap apartments and terrible neighbors. And then that… baby’s father just up and left. But I’m here, and if you ever need help again, you know where to find me.

Marcus went pale. "Three jobs? Constant moving? The kid’s father left her? What?!" With every new sentence, things just felt heavier, even more so than the weight of this unfamiliar belly. Marcus, always easygoing and confident, used to a life free of obligations, was in shock.

Everything had been so simple before. Carefree and independent, Marcus was known for his freedom, able to take off on a trip at a moment’s notice, never staying in one job for too long and never getting tied down. Every day was his to plan as he wanted, and all he ever carried around were his sunglasses, apartment keys, and phone. Life without stress, responsibility, and obligations was his creed. And now…

Marcus felt panic welling up inside him.

— This is a mistake! This isn’t my life! I’m not Marsha! — Marcus practically shouted, flailing his arms so wildly that Liz recoiled in alarm, while his friends froze, bewildered by her outburst.

— Marsha, please, calm down, — Liz placed a hand on his shoulder, peering into his eyes with gentle concern. — You’re just tired. I get that it feels like everything’s falling apart, but trust me… we’re here. No one’s leaving you.

Marcus jerked back, looking at Liz with a mix of despair and helplessness. None of them were taking him seriously. To them, he was a woman, emotionally drained and on the verge of breaking down, but certainly not who he actually was. Everything he tried to say only came across as signs of a nervous breakdown.

— You… you don’t understand! I… I’m Marcus! — he managed to say, but these words only made Liz and a few other friends, who had come closer, look at him with even more worry and pity. But it wasn’t the kind of sympathy Marcus wanted. To them, he was a woman going through a tough time.

Suddenly Liz sighed and, hugging him tightly, spoke in a low, comforting voice:

— Marsha… it’s all right. — She held him close, in a way Marcus had never been held before. — I understand.

But Marcus knew she didn’t understand at all, and he had no way to explain it to anyone.