This choice: Linda Lowry, your girlfriend's, 42 year old mother. • Go Back...Chapter #5Linda Lowry, your girlfriend's mother. by: Wassel   "...Linda Lowry. Your girlfriend's mother."
You couldn't believe your ears. Did he just say Allison's mom? Picturing her now inside your head. Mrs. Lowry being a woman you'd known for nearly four years, ever since you and Allison first started going out. Good natured and pleasant with an extremely close relationship with her daughter. Being extremely similar in a way, appearance wise especially. It being obvious that Mrs. Lowry, despite being a little thicker than her daughter and much more curvy, was definitely the source of Allison's good looks. Not to mention the fact that she'd always gotten on great with you. Being really warm and open from the first moment Allison had brought you round (in contrast to her father). Very much treating you like one of the family and constantly teasing you about what she had always referred to it as the "inevitable wedding". Being told then that she was now dead then, and even worse, that you were actually inside her body was truly devastating. How the hell could something like that happen?
Kerry explained. "Unfortunately Mrs. Lowry had a small blood clot on her brain that she was entirely unaware of, and while hanging out the washing yesterday afternoon, she accidentally fell and banged her head. The resulting impact causing the clot to rupture, resulting in an aneurysm that sadly ended up killing her... or at least, ceased any further activity in the brain."
You began to choke up. Having always had a real affection for the woman. Being almost like a second mother to you, never mind the mother of your girlfriend. No way... Not Mrs. Lowry... Not her... How the hell must Allison be feeling?
"The paramedics brought her here not a half hour before you and your family arrived," the doctor continued, "but sadly, there was simply nothing we could do for her. Other than what we did for you."
"Putting my brain inside her body you mean?" you grumbled. It sounding so utterly bizarre to even say. Noticing as you did though, that your voice, as croaky and as choked up as it was, did have a rather feminine lilt now.
He nodded. "Exactly." Going off on a slight tangent then about the actual process. It apparently not having been your entire brain that had been transfered, but instead only a small portion. Allowing you full control over Mrs. Lowry's senses, motor functions and nervous system. Kerry sounding particularly proud of himself and his achievement.
Dr. Saunders meanwhile, glared disapprovingly at his colleague. Offering words of comfort instead. "Tim, I know it's not ideal, being in the body of your girlfriend's mother, but you have to understand, we had very little time. Your own brain was in perfect working order but your body was failing. The machines could only keep you alive for so long. That is why Dr. Kerry here suggested the transplant procedure in the first place. It really was the only way to save your life."
You knew you should be grateful for what they'd done, but right now you couldn't really feel anything other than shock and sadness. Sadness that Mrs. Lowry was gone and shock that you were now inhabiting her 42 year old body. A woman's body at that. Wishing more than anything that it wasn't true. That this was all just a dream you were having. None of it being real. Looking to the older doctor to tell you that it wasn't. "This... This can't be happening... Can it?" Sadly, not getting the reply you had wanted.
"I'm afraid it is, son," he told you, placing a hand on your shoulder, as the full extent of what they had done to you finally hit. Feeling like you were going to be sick. "We of course understand that this is going to take a while to get to grips with. It really is a lot to take in all at once. But I assure you, things will soon seem much better. You're alive, remember. Take some comfort in that."
That was certainly debatable. Going from a 16 year old guy to a middle aged woman overnight. Having lost 26 years of your life, never mind what it would mean for your future. How were you going to live like this? How would you ever be able to face anyone again? How would you be able to face Allison? She was the love of your life. You'd been together for 4 years and saw yourself lasting another 40. Not now though, not now that you were in the body of her dead mother. She'd no doubt never want to see you again. And even if she did, things would never be as they were. You'd never be able to do all the things you planned. Graduate. Go to college. Move in together. Get married. Have kids. Hell, you wouldn't even be able to have sex now! Having been very much waiting to lose your virginity to one another. This was fucked up beyond belief!
Overwhelmed by this all and not really wanting to accept it, you spotted a small mirror on a nearby table and said to the doctor, "Can I see? I want to see." Praying that despite what they had just been telling you, her face would not be what you found in your reflection. After all, despite your slightly different sounding voice, you had yet to actually see any physical proof. Your current numbness from the drugs, added to your position on the bed making it impossible to know what kind of state you were really in. Maybe they're just making it all up...
Looking at the mirror you were indicating to, Saunders awkwardly replied. "I, uhm, I'm not sure." Clearly not really knowing what was best given the situation. Looking to Kerry for assistance, who gave him a little nod. "Alright, I guess," he said, picking up the mirror. Pausing then to add, "Just promise me you'll try not to get too worked up. This will be a bit of a shock and it will take a lot of time and a lot of adjusting to get used to. Not to mention the fact that your body is still recovering."
You nodded. Even though, on the surface at least, you were simply ignoring his words. Trying to convince yourself that all your were going to see was yourself. Your own face staring back at you, nothing more, as you watched him then pick up the mirror and slowly move it towards you.
Bringing it in front of your face, this desperate hope quickly vanished. Letting out a sharp gasp as you watched the reflection in the mirror do the same. It's eyes widening and it's mouth dropping open, looking absolutely dumbstruck by what it saw. Oh God... It's real. I really am her. I'm Mrs. Lowry! There staring back at you was Allison's mother, Linda Lowry, looking incredibly tired and weak. Her short, blonde hair all matted and disheveled. Her blue eyes tear strewn and puffy, and a series of small small stitches decorating the top of one eye. It was her. Or more importantly, it was you. This being, without a doubt, the most surreal thing you'd ever witnessed.
"As you can see, there really is very little sign of any external damage visible to the cranium," Dr. Kerry explained, being unable to help himself. "We even managed to preserve Mrs. Lowry's hair using a rather new and highly advanced, non-evasive surgery technique that I patented myself. To the outside observer, they wouldn't even know anything was amiss."
"Kerry!" Saunders barked, shushing his colleague. There being a time and a place for boasting and this clearly not being it.
"This... This can't be real," you muttered, having not really been listening anyway, being far too distracted by the eerie sight of Mrs. Lowry's face moving as you moved. Hearing really for the first time the rather familiar sound of her voice coming from your mouth. Distorted as it was through your ears.
"I'm afraid it is, son," he replied. Moving the mirror away.
"But... but how am I meant to live like this? Like her? ...How?" And what about Allison?"
"Well that is something we still have to discuss. But perhaps that is best left for later, once your parents are here. Right now you need to rest," the doctor told you, looking even more uncomfortable, his eyes darting away as his hands moved towards your IV drip. "We'll talk again soon though, once you're feeling more up to it."
You tried to protest, wanting to talk about it now, but it was too late. Whatever drugs they were pumping you with had quickly taken effect and you felt yourself suddenly starting to drift. The last thought on your mind being, Why me? Why did the hell did this have to happen to me? as unconsciousness slowly began to take you...
  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author