They didn't make no Biggie hologram cause there aint enough pixels for that fat motherfucker!

— Hologram Tupac (@HologramTupac) April 16, 2012

On a cold Friday afternoon, I had come home from school. I had been thinking of the gym all day. I was hungry, didn’t have any lunch. In fact, I didn’t eat because I spent the money. For the past month I was saving up for something. Something special which I bought at GNC. I was surprised they didn’t ask for ID; I was pretty sure the cashier noticed how nervous I was. Anyways, my mom asked my how my day was when I got home, but I ignored her. I have more important things to do. I run to the bathroom and unpack my bag. In my school bag is a white plastic bag from GNC. I open the bag, first removing the receipt and flushing it down the toilet to get rid of the evidence. My heart was racing now. I unpack the creatine monster from the bag.

I wonder what people will be asking me when they see that I will be 50lbs heavier. Should I say I was just eating a lot? I remove the label from the tub and tear it into a thousand small pieces. I flush that down the toilet, too. It is time now. I run up to my room when my mom ask me what I am holding. I panic, sweat drips down my forehead and my teeth chatter. “Mom, it’s just for a school project”. “What project?” “I don’t know mom I just started it!”. A tear runs down my cheek. I run upstairs and open the creatine, scooping upservings into a clear water bottle. What have I gotten myself into? I fill it with water and drink it. There is no turning back now. The creatine monster is inside me now, it will control me. What should I do if I die? I cant let my family know about this.

I open the creatine tub and throw it all out the window; a white cloud of mysterious dust sparkles into the wind so graciously. I feel the substance taking control of me; I am now the monster. I walk downstairs, its time to work out; time to get big. Now I worry, I don’t want to get too big; people will think I use steroids. I do use steroids. No I don’t. Creatine. All I see is the weights now, I am almost downstairs when I hear “Do you want a cookie I just baked”. I know I do not have time for this **** now. “No mom I do not want a cookie” I walk in the basement and drop to my knees before the weights, tears running down my cheeks. I turn to the right and look at myself in the mirror. Oh god, what have I done?

The creatine has entered my veins, I can feel it raging inside of me. I look down and realize my 11 inch biceps have swollen at least half an inch. I’ve become scared of my own strength. My mother knocks on the door to tell me good night, but i tell her not to open the door…I dont want her to see me like this. Just a few moments later, I catch myself looking at myself in the mirror…I can barely recognize myself.