A Metamorphosis of Metamorphosis

Johnathan McCauley

You wake from unsettling dreams one morning and find yourself transformed in your bed into a monstrous vermin (Kafka, 7). You initially blame your grogginess and unclear head on a lack of sleep and working too hard, until other physical alterations convince you that this is more than a mere hallucination.  Your voice has changed.  Someone you love calls to you from outside your locked bedroom door asking why you haven’t already left for work.  You attempt to reply, but, you do so in a “voice in which, as if from below, a persistent chirping intruded, so that the words remained clearly shaped only for a moment and then were destroyed to such an extent that one could not be sure one had heard them right” (9).  Your words are now altered so much as to make you sound to human ears like you’re speaking in “the voice of an animal” (14).  This is much more serious than “a severe cold” as you initially thought.   To make matters worse it is a work day and of course, you’re already late to work.   To make matters worse still, your boss came to your house to check on you.  You tumble out of bed.  The clock is ticking.  Your family and your boss stand outside your locked bedroom door waiting to see what is the matter with you.  They grow increasingly impatient and worried every second. Frightened for your health, someone you love calls a locksmith and a doctor.  They are now on their way.  Imagine you wake up one workday morning and find yourself transformed into a monstrous vermin.  Your family is worried sick.  Your boss threatens to fire you.  What do you do?
Try to open the door yourself from the inside
Hide because you’re a monstrous vermin!