A familiar tormentor

It was Joanna Price, the reason for your last two years of school being a living hell.

“What the fuck?! That’s some growth spurt you got, shrimp!” she said, gazing up at you in shock. “You rushed out kinda quick, and I thought I saw you slip something into your pocket before you left. I’m guessing that’s it? Well, finders keepers!” Joanna leaned down and picked up the fallen device, tapping through it. “‘Physique?’ ‘Height?’ What is this, some kind of workout tracker? Did you finally start doing something other than being a fat loser all day? Though I guess you’re not so chunky anymore, huh. It’s strange, though, it seems like only last week you were a tiny little lard-butt.” She smirked, still inspecting the device. Frozen in shock, all you could do from where you were standing was stammer out “Th-this is the boys room! You shouldn’t be in here!” “Th-th-th-! You sound so stupid! This thing doesn’t even make sense. Hair colour? What kind of workout can change that?” Joanna said, tapping in the screen. As she looked up at you, her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my god! Oh my god!! This thing can fucking control you?! That’s how you got so tall and fit out of nowhere!” she exclaimed, pointing at you. Unsure how Joanna had found out what the device was so quickly, you turned to look in the mirror and saw that your hair had darkened from dirty blond to a definite brown. You were instantly filled with fear. If Joanna knew, and she had the device…