On a given day in New York City an average of one thousand and three hundred individuals awake with the overwhelming need to vomit. This number of course fluctuates give or take a few dozen crackheads, but nearly doubles and sometimes triples on the weekends and or holidays. Each of these persons purging varies on a spewing spectrum ranging anywhere from cancer ridden chemo patient reacting to radiation, to underaged prospective party girl learning that indeed, beer before liquor = never been sicker.

On the crisp autumn morning of October the 3rd, this average didn’t fluctuate by much, however the particular group of regurgitators responsible for the influx had something very peculiar common.

MARY

Despite the many layers of bedding separating her from the outside world, Mary O’Brien could sense the suns presence. Her eyes were closed, but she knew its voyeuristic beams were peering into her room having just cleared the building across the street.

When her Grandfather bought this place, sunshine was one of the top floors selling points. At this moment Mary envied the “less fortunate” tenants inhabiting the lower, darker floors below.

She shifted within her high thread count cocoon. With her nose as a navigator, her head rooted in search of an exit.

Her face finally emerged from within the coiled cloth womb and out into the mornings light. Her vision flooded with an orange glow the thin skin of her eyelids were unable to filter it completely. The suns unwelcome presence was confirmed.

The tingle of the brisk morning air pin pricked across her face.

“Cold?” she thought instinctively.

Her ears perked beneath the blankets, her sense of hearing performing with amazing accuracy. Car horns, engines, a hundred or so gobbing mouths chattering into cellphones, and even the patter of shoe soles pounding pavement. The cities sounds were vibrant and boisterous, louder and more precise than Mary was accustom to.

"Did I leave my window open last night?” she groggily pondered.

Mary had always been a lover of the night, or more accurately “the Night Life”. How could you not in a city like New York? Plus with a exceptional family name, a pretty face, and plastic cash card with a near limitless balance, Mary was living "the good life".

Was.

Because despite Mary’s obvious preference for the twilight, there was something extra irritating about this particular morning. Something her mind just couldn’t quite put its theoretical finger on.

She stretched her body beneath the sheets, all five appendages below the neck outreached to the maximum of their limitations. Her facial muscles scrunched as an early morning yawn escaped from her widening mouth.

As the yawn tapered out, her limbs went limp as her body returned to a relaxed state of complete comfort.

Then, Mary felt a sudden stiffening in her gut.

What was only a pinch at first, quickly became a phantom hand palming her stomach and tightening into a fist. Her eyes popped opened for the first time. Her cheeks simultaneously puffed being filled with the contents of her stomach.

Mary’s arms and legs jettisoned outward in desperation, shedding the layers of warmth that moments before surrounded her. On reflex her hands quickly covered her mouth damming the flood of partially digested food desperate to escape her stomach. She leapt from the bed in a mad stride for the bathroom. Her bare feet slapped across the shimmering wood floors as the lavatory door increased in size. The door was partially closed, but there was no time or available hands to properly use the knob. She kicked it open continuing with forward momentum as it slammed against the opposing wall.

Mary dove towards the porcelain bowl nestled between the luxury sink and large jacuzzi bathtub. Her hands broke free of her mouth grabbing the edges of the rim as she buried her face within. Mary let out a much-needed YYAAAAWWK! as her body spasmed forcing out her tummies unwanted contents.

After a few more heaves and an extra pause for safety, Mary weekly raised her head from the bowl, chin still moist with bile and backsplash.

Waves of sweet relief washed over her as she cracked victorious smile. She exhaustedly thudded her back against bathroom wall behind her. She raised her bare leg flushing the toilets golden handle with her big toe. She wiped her lower lip while letting out a sigh.

“What was that about?” she said aloud to herself.

Truth be told this was not a foreign sensation for Mary. Her lifestyle had led to many mornings similar to this. The responsible substance and toilet might have changed, but the outcome almost always the same. You see Mary was a lightweight. But despite her inability to handle her liquor, she could not recall what part of last night’s events could possibly result in her collapsed on the bathroom floor with the taste of stomach acid still lingering on her tongue.

"No, I was a good girl last night." she reassured herself with a nod.

And truthfully, she was. The unbeknownst events of the night before, were by no fault of her own.

The jacuzzis rim served as a suitable crutch as she returned to her feet.

Once up Mary let out another yawning stretch pushing her full weight up onto her tiptoes. With an unbalanced tremor, she quickly returned to flat feet. It was like the distribution of her body had differed or her sense of self was off.

Her first steps were awkward and wobbly as she tried to regain equilibrium. Not overly concerned, Mary headed back to bed. Hopefully the sheets were still warm with residual body heat and she could force herself back into slumber.

She passed the large golden ornate framed mirror above the sink, not seemingly noticing the change in her own reflection. After only a few more steps back into the bedroom, Mary came to an abrupt halt.

It was a sort of curious pause, as if some stunning realization had quickly flashed before her. She wasn’t sure what she saw in the corner of her eye, but she knew something was the opposite of right.

Mary slowly turned back to the bathroom. The mirror just beyond the open door. Squinting, she rubbed out the last reminisce of sleep crust from the corners of her eyes. With the removal of hands and a few blinks she regained focus as she gazed upon an unfamiliar sight in the reflective glass.

Her new self.

And thats when the screaming started.