Six months later...

You wake up in the same dingy room, the stench of rotting food and your own filth enveloping you. It has been six months since that fateful day when you were turned into a pig, unable to break free from this curse, as the hypnotist still lies in a coma. Your once slender body now weighs an additional 300 pounds, the added weight making it difficult for you to move around. You spend most of your days rolling on the filthy mattress, covered in scraps of food that have been thrown your way.

Your husband, the man you once loved, has long since divorced you. He found solace in the arms of your rival among the soccer moms, the one who had always been a thorn in your side. Despite the divorce, they still keep you around, using you as a cuckquean in their twisted games. You watch as they flaunt their happiness in front of you, a constant reminder of your shortcomings.

As you lie on the mattress, your mind drifts back to the days when you were a human. You remember the laughter and joy that filled your home, the love that you once shared with your husband. Now all that remains is the bitter taste of betrayal and humiliation. You wonder if this is your punishment for the mistakes you made, for the jealousy that consumed you.

You try to push those thoughts away, focusing instead on the next meal that will be thrown your way. Food has become your only solace, the only thing that brings you temporary relief from the pain and shame that weigh heavily on your soul. You eat hungrily, the taste of the scraps barely registering as you consume them with desperation.

The days blur together, a never-ending cycle of degradation and despair. You long to break free from this nightmare, to rid yourself of the pig's form that now defines you. But with each passing day, the hope of returning to your human self dwindles, replaced by the acceptance of your fate.

You know that you are nothing more than a pawn in their cruel game, a spectacle to be paraded and mocked. And so, you lie on the mattress, surrounded by filth and decay, a mere shadow of the person you once were.