A small brunette girl.

A small crowd of people had gathered when you screamed and one attractive blonde was holding you, whispering assurances. It took a second before it clicked into place: They'd thought you had a panic attack. Ok...probably midterms or finals then...the blonde was the only one actively trying to help so she was probably her (your?) friend. Through sheer force of will you manage to get your breathing under control.

"Amanda? You alright sweety?"

"Y-yea..." Your voice is hoarse and unsteady. Oh, that's weird. Her vocal cords weren't trained to operate in the range you were used to. You try again, pitching your voice higher, "Yeah. Sorry about that."

It takes a few minutes to convince the girl you're alright, she's a good friend, but you eventually get her to walk you back to your dorm. "You're sure you're alright? You really freaked me out back there." You try to make your smile disarming but you aren't used to this girls face and it comes out as more of a grimace.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just going to rest a bit."

"...Ok. Let me know if you need any math help." An involuntary giggle escaped your lips at the thought but you clamped down on it.

"Of course." You close the door on the worried blonde before your cover completely breaks down and slowly slide to the floor. What. The. Hell.

After a few moments you force yourself up, no point in getting sucked back into a panic attack. Pulling open the closet to examine yourself in the mirror you start at the wall of fabric that greets you. You push on it with your hand and the mass of clothing moves like a single object. Who could ever need this many clothes? You roll your eyes. Women. You are distracted by the sight of yourself in the mirror.

Instead of the average-height, average-build, moderately attractive man you're used to seeing, a five foot, lithe, freshman girl looks back at you. You reach up to touch your face, tracing the unfamiliar smooth skin and the light application of makeup. Her hair is a dark brunette, falling just past her shoulders. Her face is beautiful but you could tell she was only just making the transition from adorable. "Aaaa...Oooo...Eeeee..." You experiment with her vocal chords a bit. Speaking an octave or two above normal took some getting used to. You turn slowly, examining your new body. Her curves are pretty minimal but she definitely has appeal...though she looked a little young...

Rummaging through her pockets, you pull out an I.D.:

Amanda Sharp
Age: 18
Eye clr: Hazel
...yadda-yadda-yadda...

Well at least she's 18. The situation was weird enough as it was. Pursing your lips you look the room over. You weren't sure how to handle the situation but for right now you needed to know more about this girl.

Your hand spasms.
...
Well that was weir-

Your body convulses and you fall back on the bed, your body jerking this way and that in a full blown seizure. You can feel your control slipping and reflexively get a metaphorical death-grip on your new body. Looks like the girls consciousness is waking up. You never meant to kick her out like that, you knew how terrible it was to have no control...