Tartan DVD Giveaway Winner!

Story:

Tartan's 13 years old, short for his age and a little on the chubby side, for him, going to school is a more of a dread than it is for most. His school uniform fits him a little too tightly and the result of not having sufficient funds to buy a new one, he awkwardly wrestles with it every so often, whether it be in the street, school hall or much to the laughter of his class mates, in the class room. He has poor eyesight to boot, causing him to squint most of the time, or according to others, "that Tartan's always making funny faces." He doesn't wear prescription glasses, his father can't afford those, so he wears a cheap nonprescription pair he bought from the local pharmacy after barely escaping a beating after school, he still can't see all that well with them but at least he's see a little better with them than without, though the occasional squinting is still necessary. Making matters worse, he doesn't have any friends, one usually creates an imaginary friend in situations such as these, he's no exception, but the way he goes about it is a little different than most. He's created a few friends over the years, to his liking, by piecing them
together from the stack of teen movie star magazines he buys. But unlike most imaginary friends, his have a tendency to run away or promise to come back and never do. You'd think this would be enough, but Tartan isn't overly athletic either, unless you count running away from bullies a competitive sport. But like most kids his age, Tartan attributes his loneliness to his awkwardness, his looks, his personality, his being. He wants desperately to be cool and look the part.

One day, during gym, his glasses were smacked off by an incoming dodge ball, his glasses flipped through the air, destined for doom, then coolly landed on a foam gym mattress, flipped further a bit, and the lens only lightly tapping the ground before it shattered. Roaring laughter from his classmates accompanied this, and Tartan spent the rest of the day in a state of squinting. He avoided bullies more so than usual on this day, he skipped lunch too, all in an effort to save his money and buy another pair of nonprescription glasses at the pharmacy. After school, Tartan couldn't risk being bullied and losing his money, so he ran, so fast in fact, that the typical array of bullies who ended
each day by embarrassing Tartan had to find someone else to pick on. Tartan hadn't eaten all day and his stomach was making that known, he decided to walk the rest of the way home, occasionally clutching his stomach. When he got home, Tartan saluted his father, and walked into the eating area. His father was about to ask Tartan about his day when he accidentally dropped his fork on the floor and slammed his fist on the table in anger, Tartan quickly ran over to get it and put it back on the table. His father sat there in silence and motioned him to leave, Tartan ran up to his bedroom. He put his school bag down and put his lunch money on the bed and went through his clothes drawer and pulled out a small pouch, he opened it and spilled a few dollars and coins onto the bed, setting aside some and counting the rest hurriedly. Tartan walked down the stairs, saw his dad in the dinning area drinking tea and said, "I'll be right back." His father looked up for a few seconds before answering and said, "don't stay out too long Tartan." Tartan walked through an industrial area, deserted but eerie all together, he heard a loud crash and ran the rest of the way. When he got to the pharmacy, he did what he always did; he first looked at the long rows of candy, and as he did, his stomach grumbled. He walked, hunched over, following the rows of candy. He looked to his right, squinted, and got in closer. Tartan was staring at a box with what looked like glowing rubber balls. "I think you're a little too old for that," said the storeowner. Tartan asked, "What are they?" The storeowner answered, "They're Magic Glowing Balls, they just came in a little while ago, it's a kids toy." The storeowner saw that Tartan wasn't going anywhere, he was annoyed, he continued, "they only work three times" and Tartan looked up at the storeowner when he heard this, the owner continued, "you're supposed to smack it around a bit and make a wish, if it lights up when you make your wish, then you get your wish. Happy?" Tartan asked, "How much are they?" The storeowner gave him an annoyed look and said, "Are you blind? The price is right there, it's right in
front of your face" and upon saying this, noticed that Tartan wasn't wearing the glasses he bought from him just a few weeks ago, "Tartan. What happened to your glasses?" Tartan answered, "I got hit in the face with a doge ball and they broke, how much are the Magic Balls?" Tartan reached into the box, shuffled them around a bit, saw a cracked one and asked, "How much is this one? It's broken." The storeowner was about to answer but looked at Tartan and said, "Since it's broken, you can have it if you buy something else." Tartan smiled, said, "Okay, I'll be back", and headed down one of the isles, in the direction of the nonprescription glasses booth, as he went down the isles, he bounced the broken Magic Glowing Ball again the floor; after a few hits, unbeknownst to Tartan, it lit up. He walked towards the booth and put the ball in his pocket, looked up and down the booth and saw a pair that looked different, they looked expensive, he took them off the booth, checked the price tag and saw they there were exactly the same amount he paid for his last pair, he thought this must be a mistake as he examined the frame thoroughly, in amazement, before finally trying them on and realizing that they were perfect, they were made for him, he could see clearly. Tartan stood there, looking around, making sure it wasn't an illusion, he closed his eyes for a few seconds, opened them up again, he could see just as clearly as he did just a few seconds ago, it was real. Tartan, excited, ran to the storeowner, took off the glasses, carefully putting them into the store owner's hands and said, "Those! I want those and..." digging through his pocket, Tartan pulls out the Magic Glowing Ball and about to put it into the store owner's hand when he motions him and said, "it's okay." Tartan, giddy, pays for glasses and heads out.

It's night, Tartan's home, lying on his bedroom floor, wearing his new glasses, magazines all around him, clippings, and different sized scissors. Different sized face clippings abound, the floor is littered with them, body parts galore, arms, hands, chests, feet, hair, ears, all of them different, haphazardly spread across the floor, spread out in a way that wouldn't make sense to anyone else but makes complete sense to Tartan. He's creating, he's taking care to fix the seams, and gluing the pieces together with as much precision as he now can muster, his hand occasionally trembles, this isn't another imaginary friend, this is who he wants to be.

Tartan still has his broken Magic Glowing Ball in his pocket and completely forgot about it, as he rolls over to get some tissue to clean up the glue bottle, when he accidentally press up against the Ball and causes it light up, Tartan's eyes are tired, he fixes up the edges of his cut ups as best he can.

There's pounding on Tartan's door, his father voice, "Go to bed, it's late. You have school tomorrow."

Tartan quickly gathers everything up from the floor in one quick swoop.

Tartan's in bed, covered up entirely, and dreams.

Tartan dreams he's in a dark room, suddenly, a loud sound and a spotlight hits him, he can barely see. His eyes finally adjust, he's in a hospital gown and strapped to a gurney, his legs are propped up and apart, as if he were about to give birth or have an abortion. Tartan's mouth is covered with a metal that seems to stretch but emits no sound, his face turns red, he mouths something and struggles as a tall, rail thin doctor enters the spotlight and approaches, hunched over, the doctor says, with scalpel in hand, "What are we having done today?" A nurse shows up, and never takes her stern eyes off of Tartan as she hands him the chart. The doctor looks at the chart and says nothing but his face seems disapproving. The doctor pulls back, walking backwards and sits on a stool, spreads Tartan's legs further and looking at Tartan's face from between his propped legs, says, "I want you to know that is going to hurt quite a bit. If you need anything..." and never finishes his sentence before putting on a
pair of gloves. Tartan mouths something but it's inaudible. The nurse, wheels in a table with sharp utensils, leaves and brings in another table, this time a smaller table, the contents of which are covered by a sheet. The doctor makes a motion as if he's pulled something apart, and as he does, snot storms out of Tartan's nose, he's in pain, the doctor calls for the nurse, "Nurse, get the clamps ready!" She arrives, walking slowly, and in each hand she carries two hooks, each attached to its own long chain. She aids the doctor in attaching them and little droplets can be heard, blood is dripping on the floor and soon on the nurse's white shoes. The doctor says, "This is done, bring in the head." The nurse exits the spotlight and the doctor asks that she hurry. She arrives with a young man in his twenties, the doctor says, "Here. Take this!" removing the sheet that covered the small table the nurse had brought in earlier and handing the young man a flashlight and small map, circled on the map is where he has to go. The young man uses his arm to get into Tartan's anal cavity and carefully walks his way through. Tartan's face is beet red, tears are streaming down his face, the veins in his neck seem about to explode. The doctor says, "Nurse, quickly, get me the arms." She leaves and arrives with another young man, the doctor hands him a flashlight and map as well and says, "Here. Go." He enters. The doctor says, "Nurse, the legs and torso." The nurse arrives
with two men, and the doctor says, "Legs first, then torso" as he also hands him a map and flashlight. He does not enter as delicately as the others but abruptly and with little consideration for Tartan. Tartan is writhing in pain.
The doctor hands the last man a flashlight and map, and ushers him on, he has some difficultly entering, and as he struggles to enter, he unwittingly causes one of the hooks to tear Tartan's cavity apart even further, causing Tartan
more pain than he has ever felt in his entire life, the constant humiliation at school was nothing compared to this amount of pain, the doctor and nurse help push him in but to no avail, the doctor asks Tartan to push like he's never
pushed before and he does, and in doing so, the last man succeeds in entering. Tartan lies there, exhausted, his eyes closed, covered in a sweat stained hospital gown, the floor splattered in blood. The doctors and nurse exit the spotlight and the doctor is heard saying, "Success. Within a few hours he should be as good as new."

Clapping resounds, the lights are turned on and all around are veiled people sitting in chairs tightly packed together, hundreds of them, clapping loudly and roaring, occupying the space outside of where the spotlight once was.

Tartan awakens from his sleep, struggles under the bedcover, he pulls them off, breathing heavily, except, it's not Tartan, it's someone else, naked, sweaty, nineteen or twenty years old. He tries to get up from bed, and succeeds
momentarily, before crashing to the floor; he's in pain and gasping hard. The bed has a brownish-red stain outlining of his entire body. He curls up and stays on the ground an entire minute, breathing heavily, before attempting to
get up again. He puts both hands on the floor, using them as leverage, but he stops, frozen, noticing his hands, he brings one up to his face, looking at it, examining this unfamiliar shaking hand in disbelief. He leans forward,
breathing heavily, and vomits twice in succession, he captures his breath again before passing out; he lies down next to the vomit, not having the strength to move elsewhere. He closes his eyes.

He wakes up to the sound of his father pounding on the door and yelling, "It's time for you to get up!"

He feels sore, but not as horrible as he did during the night and wonders if it was all just a dream, just then he notices the slight smell of vomit and he realizes that he's lying on the cold floor, he looks to his right, everything
seems yellowish and blurry for a while, he closes his eyes and tried again, he sees the semi-dry vomit, he pushes away slowly, and crawls, remembering what happened when he tried to stand before.

He continues crawling, stopping every so often as to not overdo himself, making his way to the mirror on his wall. Tartan stands up slowly and sees a face he doesn't recognize, a new face, his new face, he stands there for a few seconds, understanding what it is he is seeing and then pulls back in disbelief, and in doing so, he sees his nude body in the mirror, his new body. He stands there in shock.

He tries to jump and do a little dance but he falls down and laughs. He stays on the floor laughing.

He fills the tub with water and sits in it, as he washes himself and the water develops a light brownish red color.

He goes through his father's closet and gets some clothes, he heads downstairs and tells him that he'll be back, his father looks up at him and says, "you're voice, it sounds different."

Tartan answers, "I've grown up..."

Tartan says, "I'll be back...I have some things to take care of."

Tartan's father doesn't answer but just stares blankly in the direction of the voice.

The End.