I woke (edited and complete version)

I woke, and realized I was restrained. I also felt a terrible dislocation in time. I somehow knew I had been unconscious for a significant period of time. Fear poured over me. Had I been kidnapped:?

So many movies and TV shows came back to me, that when I heard soft footsteps and saw a shadow at the end of my bed, I actually squeaked, “Don’t hurt me, please.” “Nobody’s hurting anybody, sweetie” a woman said, and I looked at her and realized she was a nurse.

“I am in a hospital?” I asked. “Yes, hon, and we are glad to see you awake. You gave us a bit of a scare for a while” she said. “Can you tell me what happened to me? I asked. “I don’t remember anything.” “The doctor come by to check on you in a bit, and he will explain what we know” She said.

She headed back towards the door, and suddenly my anxiety spiked, and I started to tear up. “Did I . . . did I do something bad?” She turned back to me and asked, “Why would you think that hon?” “Well”, I said, almost against my will, “I’m all tied up and I don’t remember what happened and I am scared and alone, and . .. .” I choked up and couldn’t continue.

Would you like someone to sit with you for a while dear?” She asked. She went to the door and looked out, and then paused. “Is it okay if it’s a man, hon? I can try and find a woman if that’s better” I didn’t understand why she would say that, so I said “Its Okay”

Then a man in a security uniform stepped in. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Hank” he said. “You will keep me safe, won’t you Hank?” I asked him. “I promise” he replied. “Will you sit beside me and talk to me?” “Sure, if you would like.” I looked at the nurse and said “He’s okay, I guess. But please find out how long I will be tied up, and if you could, see if my family is here?” “You got it sweetie.” she said.

Then Hank sat down, and said, “What would you like to talk about? I can’t really tell you anything about your condition, I am afraid” “That’s alright", I said. “Just tell me about yourself, or something else nice. I suddenly feel a little tired again, and I may drop off, I hope you wont mind.”

He turned out to have a very soothing baritone voice, and I started to drift off, as he was talking about his wife and kids. I was almost asleep when he said “You kind of remind me of my daughter.” Hearing that gave me a jolt, and I tried to fight off the growing need to sleep. But I was not successful, and as I feel back into unconsciousness thinking, “Daughter? But I am a guy.”

While I slept I dreamed. I saw images, snapshots. An accident. Being taken to the hospital, feeling my spirit leave my body. Going into the next room where more doctors and nurses were working.

A young girl on the table. I see her step out of her body. The Light above us both. She goes upward, I linger. I look down at her form, she looks so young, so wounded. I bend down and kiss her forehead. They apply a shock to her chest. . . ..

I wake up shouting. A woman’s voice beside me tries to comfort me. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and say, “Mom?” “Yes dear, I am here” she says. I look at her. I don’t recognize her at all. I flinch, pull back from her hand, and even before I can stop the words I say “No! Who are you?” Oh God, the look of pain on her face. I say “I’m sss . . . sorry.” I feel like crying again. What’s wrong with me?

The doctor comes in. The woman says “She didn’t recognize me, doctor. What’s going on?” “Try not to worry, Mrs. Allen. She has been through a great deal in the last 24 hours. Now, let me check her out, okay?” He says. The woman stands up, gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “Okay, “ she says. She looks at me “We will get through this sweetie. Try and remember we love you.” She leaves.

The doctor puts a light in my eyes, checks out my head. “Well, physically, you seem like you are recovering. Now, for the memory. What do you remember” I think for a minute. Can I tell him I was a man an hour ago? No. I say, “I was . . . Hurt?” I shake my head. “I am sorry, I just don’t remember.”

“Okay.” He says. “Don’t let it worry you right now, focus on trying to get better. I will have them do a scan of your brain, just in case, but I suspect it’s a psychological response to trauma, not a physical one.”

“That lady. . .” I start. “She says she’s my mom?” “Yes” he replies. “Can she sit with me? I really don’t want to be alone.” “The doctor steps out of the room. Moments later the woman comes in. “You are okay with me sitting with you,?” She asks. “Please. I am sorry I don’t remember you, but I am very scared and don’t want to be alone. Tell me about me. Tell me about my life. Please” I plead.

She sits down, and takes my hand. “Okay, sweetheart.” So she talks. I am a senior in high school, she says. Honor's student. Love drama, dance, art, poetry, and music. I ask, “Did I have a boyfriend?” She looks sad. “yes, but . . . We will talk about that later, okay?”

I have a feeling I know the answer. “He hurt me, didn’t he. That’s why I am here.” “Its okay hon,” she says, “Its all over. Nobody’s going to hurt you again, I promise.” I suddenly feel tired again. I yawn. I say “I am going to sleep again, stay with me, please?” “Of course my dear. I am not going anywhere.” I manage a smile, but I am worried. What happened? What about my old life, my family?

Am I stuck in this girl’s body? What will happen next?

When I woke up, I was about to go into a MRI machine, and its soft hum calmed me enough to help me gather at least some of my wits. I had been feeling fragile and emotional for a while, making it hard to think, but I was able to use a grounding technique I had learned last year.

I tried to organize my thoughts. I remembered being in an accident, and then having a strange dream that I was dying, and somehow my spirit left my body, and went to the next room where they were working on a dying girl. I watched her spirit leave her body and head for the Light, and instead of going upward myself, I bent down to kiss her body when the nurses shocked her.

Next thing I know, I am waking up, and I am her. I wondered if I was still dreaming. I had never had a dream like this before, but maybe it was possible. I tried to pinch myself, but no difference.

It occurred to me that if I wasn’t dreaming, I was in trouble. Could I tell anyone I wasn’t this girl? Who would believe me? And even if by some miracle someone believed me, what could they do? I somehow doubt anybody knows how to do a soul transplant.

For that matter, I wasn’t sure where my real body was. If my soul was in her body, was she in mine? Or is my body in the morgue?

I decided I was going to have to try and calm down. I tried to remember what happened before the accident. It came in flashes - I was driving along, then I saw someone?

I stop, there is a girl, her clothes are torn, she is bleeding. I open the door, I call 911. She gets in. A truck comes out of nowhere . . . Blackness.

Tried a different idea. Maybe I could figure out what I could do next, assuming I don’t wake up first. By then they were done checking my new body out.

I smiled at the technician, and ask him “How did it look?” He smiles back, and says “The doctor will have to make the final call sweetie, but as far as I can see, you have a beautiful brain.”

It occurs to me he is flirting, and I blush. They take me back to my room. I find my “mom” waiting for me, and she is with a man. He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. I smell his cologne, and somehow, I felt better.

Then another impossibility. I had a flash of memory Of being in the arms of this man, hearing his voice, smelling that cologne, and knowing the monsters had been beaten back. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t have her memory, could I?

Now I was really worried. I made a choice. I wouldn’t tell them who I really am, at least not yet. After all, I haven’t decided if this is real yet.

And I have a terrible feeling things are only getting started ...

Some time later, I watched my “parents” leave. It wasn’t bad enough that I seemed to be stuck in the body of a teenage girl. Now I seemed to be remembering her life, channeling her feelings.

That was only one shock that seeing my “father” brought with him. The other came when I overheard my “father” ask the doctor about, in his words, ‘the hero who had rescued’ me from my attacker.

I started to have a very bad feeling. I still held out hope that this was some bizarre dream, that maybe everything since my accident was a product of a sleeping, or maybe injured, male, mind.

But I couldn’t help but think of the last image in my memory before the accident - of stopping my car to help a half-naked, bleeding girl. It couldn’t be, could it? I didn’t rescue this girl, only to end up stuck inside her, did I?

I heard the doctor say “I will have to check with his family what I can tell you, sir.” My new father said “Please. And tell them we want to do anything we can. We cannot do enough, because he saved Allison’s life.”

So then I had discovered my “host’s” full name. Allison Allen. My new parents must have a thing for alliteration. The doctor said, “I will. In the meantime, we are very happy with the progress your daughter is making. Physically, she has almost completely recovered, which is remarkable.”

My new father said “And her memory loss? My wife said she didn’t even recognize her when she woke.”

The doctor said, “The tests show a mild concussion, but no sign of permanent damage. I believe it was a shock response, and that eventually she will recover all her memory.”

“So what happens next?” My “father” asked. “We would like to keep her overnight for observation, then, if she is up to it, she can go home. It’s quite possible that in familiar surroundings, her memory will return faster.”

The doctor replied. I was suddenly consumed with curiosity. I needed to know what this girl looked like. I asked my “mom”, if I could get up to go to the bathroom, and after she had checked with the nurse, she helped me get on my feet.

I was sore everywhere, but carefully I made my way to the bathroom. I found I actually did need to go, so after finishing my business, I went to the sink and looked in the mirror. There wasn’t any doubt. The eyes, the face, the hair. This was the girl I had stopped to help.

I started to feel dizzy. My “mom” had to help me return to bed. I found myself crying. Maybe my dream was true. Maybe my soul really did get stuck inside this girl.

I asked my “mom” to find out if I could see my “rescuer”, or at least meet his family. She agreed, and soon I was left with my own thoughts.

I was thinking, what was I supposed to do about my situation?

And what happened to the old me?

And perhaps more important, was there a way back to my old body, or was I stuck for the rest of my life?

Two days later, I was still in the hospital, trying to regain my strength, and demonstrate that I was well enough to go home. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be to my own home, because against all reason, I was somehow stuck in the body of a teenage girl.

I had lost most of my hope that this was somehow the product of my own unconscious mind. At that moment, my focus was on keeping my balance in this new body as I walked the halls of the hospital with a nurse behind me with a wheelchair if I got too tired.

We were on our way back to my room when my doctor came up to me and said, “Good news, Allison, the family of the man who saved you agreed to let you visit him, if you want to.”

“Can I go right now?” I asked.

“Sure.” he said, “have a seat, and we will take you, he is on this floor, in the ICU wing.”

I winced. “ICU?” I asked, “Was he badly hurt?” “Well, it was a very serious collision. But lets go, if you want to.”

“Please” I said. So the nurse wheeled me to the ICU unit, and we made our way to a private room. Inside, I could see my old family, looking haggard and sleepless. My mother, looked 10 years older than when I had seen her last, and my ex-wife was, of all things, crying.

The nurse knocked, and we were allowed inside. They looked at me, and I suddenly felt very shy. “H.. Hi” I managed. “I . .. I’m Allison. I understand I owe this man my life.”

Meanwhile, I was thinking “I guess that’s really true” My mom took my hand for a second and my ex-wife nodded at me. “How, how is he?” I asked. My mom replied “Well, he hasn’t woken up since they brought him in.” she shook her head. “We are praying he will come back to us.”

I felt awful. I couldn’t tell them it was me in this body, they wouldn’t believe me, I felt sure of it. I choked back tears and said “I will pray too. Its my fault he is like this . . .” I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

My mom squeezed my arm and said “No hon, the police told us he was trying to help you when the man who hurt you hit his car. Don’t blame yourself, I am sure Mark wouldn’t want you to feel responsible for what happened.”

I couldn’t take anymore, and asked the nurse to take me back to my room. The tears flowed down my cheeks as we wheeled back. I had so many thoughts I couldn’t keep them all straight.

Where was the girl’s spirit? Was it in my old body? Or was the fact that “Mark” hadn’t awaken a sign that she was gone, and the body had no soul inside anymore?

How was I ever going to get back to my life? What would happen to this body if somehow I did get back where I belonged? The nurse tried to comfort me, but the tears kept coming.

My new “mom” was waiting in my room when I got back, and I stood up and hugged her tightly. Then things got even stranger. I had another flash of memory.

Of seeing this woman at a night table putting on makeup, and wishing I could be as beautiful as she was, and her hugging me and telling me I would be even prettier when I was a grown-up lady.

It was so real, so full, I knew it was a real memory of my host, the sights, the sounds, the feelings, even the way things smelled was far too real to be anything but her past.

I was approaching overload. Seeing my old body, my old family, and then having another of my host’s memories was more than I could take.

I fainted.

My fainting spell cost me another day's stay on the hospital, but the next day I was in my “mother’s” car, going to the home of Allison Allen. Only problem with that was I had woken up as Allison two days ago, and before that I was a 40 year old man named Mark Collins. I had stopped to help a girl, who turned out to be Allison, when I had been hit by a truck, which I had learned was being driven by Allison’s attacker.

I didn’t understand it, but that seemed to be the situation I was in. The Allen residence was a nice one, in a upper-middle class neighborhood. Along the way, my new mother took the time to show me several places to help “jog” my memory, as they all believed that was the reason why I couldn’t remember Allison’s past.

One of the stops we made was the school Allison attended, but we were not able to go in. So we pulled into the driveway of “our” house. She led me inside, and gave me a tour. We were headed for “my” bedroom, when the front door opened, and Allison’s father came in. My “mom’s” face brightened, and she took me to see him.

“James, you’re home early.” said my “mother”. He grinned, and said, “When I heard my little girl was on her way home, I managed to get away, Mary.” And then he picked her up and hugged her fiercely. He then came over to me and gave me a much more gentle hug, mindful of my bruises and dressings.

They led me back to the kitchen, sat me down, and began to make dinner together. Soon, they were laughing, turning the act of making a meal into a dance. It then struck me the quality they shared, it was Love. Love as if it was a liquid they bathed in, a pool they swam and splashed in. It was a warmth and light that radiated from both of them, spreading to the whole room.

Each also made a point to include me in their dance, creating a feeling of safety and security unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I couldn’t help but compare it to my own childhood, with its silences and storms of rage, and found myself envying Allison.

If I had had a home like this maybe . . . Soon, we were finished dinner, and curled up on a couch watching TV. I felt safe in a way unlike anything I had felt before. I found myself thinking that if I never got back to my old life, this one wasn’t a bad one.

My parents helped me go to my room, and for the third time since I was stuck in Allison’s body I had a flash of her memory. I saw myself as a little girl, dressed as a princess, having a pretend tea party with every stuffed animal in the room, and my mom and dad coming in to join the fun, which ended with me being tickled and hugged and kissed until I felt like I would burst from happiness.

I crawled into the bed, and after my parents had left, I said “Allison, wherever you are, I hope you know just how lucky you were.” Unfortunately, the good feeling didn’t last through the night.

That night, I had a nightmare of the last time I was Mark, of seeing Allison half-naked and bleeding and calling 911, and the truck hitting my car. What made it even more of a nightmare, was that somehow, I saw the scene from both points of view, my view as Mark, but now also how it looked for Allison.

Running up to my car, begging Mark to help me, watching the truck come around the corner and hitting us both. What was happening to me? How could I have both sets of memories? I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying to make sense of all this before finally falling back asleep.

All I could think was, "Where was all this going?"

I woke to the smell of bacon cooking, and was confused for a moment, but then I remembered where I was. I was in the body of a girl named Allison Allen, and I had no idea how to get back to my own life. Worse, I seemed to be remembering more and more of Allison’s life every day.

I pulled back the covers of her bed, and tried to get up. I had been so overwhelmed by everything since I had gotten stuck in her body, I haven’t had a chance to really get a grip on the fact I had inadvertently changed into a girl, but standing in her nightdress, I got a glimpse of her form in her mirror, and felt a little dirty.

I had been a 40 year old man, and the thought of peeking at a high school girl seemed totally wrong. I wanted to cover up, and I couldn’t even imagine how I could face getting out of this nightdress to put on day clothes. Fortunately, Allison’s mother must have guessed I was having a problem, and came in as I was busy wrapping myself up in my bed sheets.

She asked me what was wrong, and all I could say was “I can’t look at my body”

Allison’s mom held me, and said, “I am sorry, sweetheart. Are you remembering what happened?“

“No,“ I said, “I just feel…“

“It’s okay. I will run a bath, and I’ll help you, and you don’t have to look if you don’t want to.“ She said.

So she ran the water, and once my eyes were closed, she took off the nightdress off me, and helped me bathe. She had to be careful, as I still had cuts and bruises from my attack and being hit by the truck. The worst injury was the burns Allison’s body had received when they had shocked her back to life with my spirit attached.

But Allison’s mom changed the dressings, and then led me back into my room, and helped me into a pair of panties, and then put on me a sports bra rather than a regular one so the straps wouldn’t put too much pressure on the burn spots.

Then she helped me into what turned out to be tights, and then slipped a dress over my head and told me to open my eyes. I looked at my reflection, and realized just how pretty Allison was–even with bruises.

I slipped my feet into what Allison’s mom called ballet flats, and felt ready to challenge the world. “Not quite yet Ally, “ Allison’s mom said. “Little bit of makeup too.

“I don’t remember how, mom” I bluffed.

“Don’t worry, hon, it will come back, I am sure. But for today, just do what I do.” She said. So soon I had on some lip gloss, a touch of powder, and eye shadow. I had to admit it did make an improvement, even though I had thought Allison had looked pretty good without it.

The hospital had lent us a cane, and I felt strong enough to use it to go to the kitchen and help my “mom” make breakfast. We had finished and were cleaning up when the doorbell rang. Allison’s mom went to get it, and it turned out to be Lisa and Nikki, who apparently were long-time friends of Allison.

Allison’s mom let them in, but took them aside and whispered to them both. After she was done, they came over to me and introduced themselves, and Nikki asked “Do you remember us at all, Ally?”

I shook my head, and said “I am really sorry, I have had a few flashes of memory, but that’s all.”

Nikky took my hand and said “Well, don’t let it worry you. We will have you caught up in no time flat” She then looked at Lisa and asked. “Won’t we Lisa?”

Lisa smiled, and said “No question about it.” She then said, “I suppose you are not up to a day of mall crawling, huh?”

I gestured to the cane and said. “Crawling is about right.” I started feeling anxious, and really didn’t want to be without Allison’s mom.

She must have sensed my anxiety, and said to the girls “I think Ally needs to take her time getting back into the old routine. I have a compromise for you. I will take the three of you to the mall, and wait in the food court. Ally, I will give you back your cell and show you my number which is programmed into it. It gets too much, you call me, and I will come get you, no questions asked. Is that okay with you?”

I nodded, and we headed to the car. Soon, we were on our way, and I found myself liking these two girls very much. They were both upbeat, friendly, and fun. They told me about Alison’s dream of becoming an actress or a writer, and both seemed sure that she would make either goal.

Once we were at the mall, they had to go slowly to let me, with my cane, keep up, but they didn’t seem impatient. While we window-shopped, they gave me a lot of info about the school they attended. Apparently , some things hadn’t changed all that much from when I was in school.

There were several cliques, most notably the group that Allison and her friends belonged to, which mostly centered on the drama club. Allison’s main rival for Valedictorian was the stereotypical queen bee of the school - Head cheerleader, student president, and all-around snob, at least as far as Lisa and Nikki were concerned.

Not only that, she was apparently spreading some stories around the school about what happened the night Allison was hurt, trying to make it seem like the whole thing was Allison’s fault. The boy involved suddenly had any number of supporters who were ready to act as character witnesses on his behalf.

In the view of Lisa and Nikki, the whole thing was because this girl, whose name was Silvia, was afraid that Allison would get sympathy votes for Valedictorian, and making that speech was her whole reason for being at the moment.

They apologized for not talking about the boy, or my relationship with him, but Allison’s mom had apparently warned them that it might come up in court, and any “influences” could render my eventual testimony tainted. This was a new idea for me, and I wondered what I could possibly do about it.

Although I had indeed had flashes of Allison’s memory, I wasn’t her. How could I testify, if it came to that? The two girls realized I was getting upset, and called Allison’s mom, and soon I was on my way back home, after getting hugs from both girls with a promise to keep in touch.

This moment gave me another thing to think about, however, as I had a odd feeling getting hugged by these two. Having two very attractive girls giving me a hug at the same time would have been at least a little arousing before, when I was still in my male life.

But now, I felt warmed and comforted, but had no special feelings about the contact. So I decided to make a test. Going back to Allison’s house I tried to arouse myself with images of girls I had had a crush on, and had no feeling about them.

What the heck did that mean? Was I going to lose my orientation, on top of everything else? Was I going to disappear, and only Allison would remain? Allison’s mom could tell I was upset, and so we cuddled together for rest of the day until Allison’s dad came home, and then the three of us remained close together until I had to go to bed.

As I fell asleep, I thought, "What could tomorrow bring?"

When I awoke the next morning, I was shaking. During the night I had a nightmare, the worst I had had since I was accidentally trapped in the body of Allison Allen. Allison’s mom came in, and took me into her arms, and I found myself unable to stop from telling her about the nightmare.

I said, “I dreamed of going back to school, and being unable to fit in because I couldn’t remember how to behave, and failing all my classes, and then having to go to court and not being able to testify and my attacker getting away with it, and . . . “ somehow, I managed to stop myself from telling her the last part of my dream, where Allison’s spirit held me accountable for ruining her life, and found me guilty, just before I woke up.

Allison’s mom gave me a hug, and said “Hon, try and not worry about either school or any trial right now. You have a week of spring break left, so if your memory doesn’t return by then, we will make some decisions about school then. As for the trial, I imagine it will be some time before they can take the case to trial, and again, we will deal with the situation when it is actually here."

"Meanwhile, I will help you with your bath again today, if you want, and then we can get ready for church." So that’s what she did, and by the time I was fully ready for church, I had calmed a little. It was my first time in heels and hose since I got stuck in Allison’s body, but I managed to cover any awkward movements by using the cane the hospital had sent home with me.

I wondered what kind of church The Allen family would attend, and it turned out to be not too different except they had a woman as the preacher, which would have been a scandal in the church I had grown up in. I found out that Allison has a nice singing voice, not really surprising since she had apparently been a star in a musical at school.

Everyone at the church seemed to know Allison, and many came up to offer hugs or to shake my hand and tell me they were praying for my full recovery. After the service, Allison’s mom surprised me when she told me “Mr. Collins’ family has graciously said we can visit him in ICU anytime. You want to go?”

I thought about it, and realized I was curious to see my old body again, and so said “O.K.” So we went over to the hospital, and my mom was waiting for us in the ICU. “How is he doing?” asked Allison’s mom. “The same,” said my mother, “Physically, he is healing, but he . . . Just won’t wake up.”

That made sense to me, as my spirit wasn’t in that body at the moment to operate it. I hugged my mother, and asked, “What are they going to do?” “We may have to make some hard choices if he doesn’t make some progress soon. “ My mom said. I shook, and realized they were talking about letting my body die.

“Please, can you hold off?” I asked. They both looked at me strangely, and I stuttered, and said “I mean, maybe he will wake up, if he gets a chance. Besides, I want to know about him.” “Allison, I am sure Mrs. Collins will do what she thinks best.” Allison’s mom said. “I know, I am sorry” I said, “I just don’t want him to die” My mom said, “don’t worry Allison. We will take our time making the call. And we can go into the cafeteria and I will try and tell you all about Mark.”

So we went there, and she spent an hour telling me my life story as she saw it. She ended with saying, “Mark was . . . Unhappy. Struggling with something we never really understood. But he was a good person, and I am not surprised he stopped to help you. I am sure Mark would be happy to see you up and about, and would want nothing more than to see you able to get on with your life.”

I couldn’t help feeling the irony of that statement, and not trusting my self to reply, I gave her a hug instead, and taking Allison’s mom’s hand, left the cafeteria, and asked her to take me home. Once there, she helped me out of my church clothes and helped me change into something much more casual and comfortable. Allison’s dad came home, and the three of us cuddled together until bedtime. I was a little reluctant to go to bed alone, but soon, I fell asleep.

The next morning, after breakfast, we got a surprise phone call, and I listened as Allison’s mom responded with shock to something said, and she said “Can they do that?, Well, keep us informed."

I asked her “What was that about mom?”

She told me, “It was the Crown attorney. Apparently, your attacker’s lawyers have pushed for an speedy trial. The Crown prosecutor said he thought they had found out about your memory loss, and are hoping that if they can get the case heard before you are recovered, without your testimony he might go free.” “Then the nightmare I had the other night is coming true.” I said.

“Now, Ally, don’t think like that. I told you, we will deal with it when it comes. First, a judge will have to agree to such a trial, and then, we will have to see if they can do without you.” Allison’s friends came over, but I really didn’t feel like going out with them, so they stayed for a while, and we looked through Allison’s yearbooks, her textbooks, and her notes, hoping that I might be able to recall something.

I asked them, “Did I have a lot of boyfriends? “ Nikki said “No, we never saw you with anybody special until this year.“ They showed me the playbill from the musical Allison had starred in and I looked at it, and found something I could remember in it - the picture of the male lead. “That’s him, isn’t it. Bill Mallory. He was my . . . “ I found I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah, I guess its okay to tell you that you guys hit it off doing that musical together, He had had a reputation as a bit of a player, and we were a little worried he would get you in the sack and then dump you, but you were really crazy about him, and it seemed like you were really happy together.” I told them about the phone call, and about my dream of freezing on the stand.

“Don’t you worry about anything Ally” said Lisa, “We will be with you all the way, okay?”

“O . . Okay.” I managed. Once again I realized just how lucky a girl Allison had been, with her parents and her friends in her corner. They stayed for lunch, and after they left, I went back to Allison’s room.

She had a laptop, and I wondered if she had a diary or journal or something on it. I sat on a chair and realized I would need a password, and wondered how I could get it. I tried closing my eyes, and just letting Allison’s fingers remember, and surprisingly, it worked. I was soon on Allison’s home page and reading her blog.

What her friends had said was true. Allison had had a few boys she had feelings for, and some who she sensed had feelings for her, but nothing serious until this boy Bill played opposite her.

Spending hours together in rehearsals, playing boyfriend and girlfriend led to the real thing. He had had a lot of different girls since he had started high school, none of them lasting longer than two to three months, but no one had warned Alley of anything other than maybe getting a disease, getting pregnant, or just getting her heart broken when he tired of her.

Certainly, nobody had seen him as a rapist, or someone who would try and run somebody over with his truck. My ability to get Allison’s password and the memory flashes I had had since I became trapped in her body gave me an idea. Could I call on her memory on cue, like say in the courtroom?

I looked at Allison’s notes and textbooks, and found it more familiar than I could have hoped considering how long it had been since I was in high school the first time around. For the first time since I had become stuck in her body, I felt that there was at least a chance that I could get through this without ruining her life for her.

I still had a lot to worry about, with my old body hanging by a thread, and my ability to remember her life could end up erasing me from existence, but at least I felt some hope that things were going to work out. I had never been a big faith person, I had always struggled with doubts, but maybe, just maybe, there was a purpose behind all this.

With that bit of hope to hold on to, I fell asleep, and slept through the night for the first time since I had gotten stuck living this girls life. I could only wait to see what would happen next.

A couple of days later, I was called to come to the hospital, as they were going to take my old body off of life support. Soon, I was in the ICU, waiting for my old body to die. I tried to calm myself down by organizing my thoughts since the accident that left me trapped in the body of Allison Allen. It was the end of Spring Break, and the next day I was due back in class for the first time as Allison.

But first it looked like I would have to say goodbye to any hope of returning to my old form. I tried to list all the accomplishments I had made in the last week, to try and cheer myself up. For example, I was able now to walk without a cane, although I still was having trouble with heels.

The doctors had also removed my bandages that had covered the burns I had received when they had applied shock paddles to Allison’s heart, trapping my soul inside. The worst part of that experience was being told that the marks were fading so well , I would be able to wear a bikini this summer.

I was still having a lot of trouble even looking at this body, and the idea of exposing that much of its flesh was just beyond me. The other main accomplishment of the week was being able to access more of Allison’s memory.

I had recovered the memory of her first meeting with her best friends, Nikki and Lisa. They had actually met in grade 6, when they had gone to school in skirts and halter tops, only to have to spend the whole recess with their backs against the wall, as boys kept trying to pull on the strings, when they weren’t trying to lift up the skirts.

They bonded over a common low opinion of boys, and remained best friends ever since. Better still, I didn’t seem to be losing any of my memories of my life as Mark, at least as far as I could tell.

I had a lot of gaps, but nothing that struck me as important was missing, and I had struggled with my memory even when I was still in my body, so baring any real significant loss, I was hopeful that I would be able to survive having her memory as well as my own.

However, I still was not able to remember her attack, which worried me greatly as apparently, her attacker’s lawyer was trying to get the case heard quickly, thinking that there was an advantage to be had by doing so.

Worse, the press had gotten a hold of the story, and even though they couldn’t by law reveal Allison’s identity or that of my attacker as they were both underage, they were able to talk about me, or at least my old life. Not only that, but despite a publication ban in the mainstream media, Allison’s main rival at school was sharing fictionalized details of what happened on Facebook and Twitter, so both my new family and my old one were struggling to retain their dignity and privacy.

As I wrote, I looked at my old body, and cried again. As long as “Mark” was still alive, there was hope I could somehow make my way back to myself, but once they took my body off the respirator, it was just a matter of time. I spent some more time with my mother and my former ex, and wondered if I would ever see them again.

I took the opportunity to ask them, “Why was Mark so sad?“ I told them, “I feel a strong connection to him, and I really want to know everything.“ But my mom just patted me on the head, and said “Maybe it doesn’t matter now. I will think about it, I promise.”

Finally, I had to go, as Allison’s mom came to take her daughter home, to get ready for her return to school the next day. I spent the rest of the night reviewing my schoolwork, and being totally nervous. The next morning, Allison’s mom helped me pick out a good outfit, and off I went. Nikki and Lisa met me and the door, complimented me on the outfit, and soon it was time for classes.

I felt like everyone was staring at me. Fortunately, I had Nikki and Lisa with me the whole day, which was the only way it was bearable at all. I really had trouble with the bathroom idea, and wished I could go into a staff bathroom instead.

Worse, I felt terrible anxiety about being in any place with only one exit. I also really became nervous anytime a boy came too close to me, even when they were clearly just trying to welcome me back and give me their support.

But somehow, I got through the day with only one major incident. Silvia, who was the girl who was responsible for the negativity being spread about Allison on the web, decided to try and confront us, and said I was a faker, and that I had set up “poor Bill,” who was being railroaded.

I was very upset, but Nikki and Lisa got me away from her. When I got home, I had a very strange feeling, I felt dizzy, weak, and had a terrible feeling about my old body. I phoned the hospital trying to find out if Mark had passed, and lucked into talking to a nurse who recognized Allison’s voice, and she told me, “it’s the strangest thing, we expected him to pass within hours of taking him off life support, but , somehow, he started breathing on his own.”

“We don’t know why, how long it will last, or if he will ever regain consciousness.” I told Allison’s mom, and she held me close, and eventually I went to sleep. The rest of the week I could feel myself falling more and more out of control.

I still could not look at Allison’s body, I always picked the heaviest , bulkiest outfits to wear, I really started to freak out if a boy came near me, and I started to have nightmares about Allison’s attack, although I couldn’t remember the details when I was awake.

Allison’s mom must have picked up the clues, and booked me into see a therapist. Soon, I was seeing someone two times a week. So my routine became set for a while, with school, homework, and therapy. But no sooner had I started to get used to that schedule when the judge decided the case against my attacker should go ahead, and I suddenly had a new worry.

I thought it was ironic that I was now having nightmares about being attacked as Allison, but couldn’t access the memory when I was awake. Those memories were the key to getting some justice for Allison, wherever she was, and I was determined to make sure that happened.

I had work to do.

But the next day started by going to the courthouse for the opening of the trial of the attacker of Allison Allen. I had been stuck in her body for months, and I felt my chance to get some justice for her was failing.

I had gotten a sneak peak at the Crown’s case against this young man, and without some miracle, I felt it was at best a 50-50 chance to get a conviction. Sitting in the courtroom while we waited for our case to be heard, I got a crash course in how our law works. It was very different from what the American TV shows portrayed.

It was very formal, stilted, and much calmer than I had expected. I was on edge, and then our case was called, and for the first time as Allison, I was faced with her attacker, who was a fellow student, and in fact had been Allison’s boyfriend. I started to shake uncontrollably when he came into the room, and when he stood up to make the plea of “not guilty”, I went into a flashback.

I had been having nightmares about her attack, but for the first time I was having the memory while I was awake, but it was far too intense for me to handle. It was like it was happening at that moment, I was being pinned, I could feel his weight, the heat from his breath, the horrible way a face Allison had come to love and trust became twisted into a mask of rage.

Next thing I knew, I was outside the courtroom, with Allison’s mom holding me tight while I cried. I gained control of myself, but Allison’s mom decided we should go home, as there was nothing we needed to see for now. We got up to leave, when a boy came up to me, and I recognized him as a classmate and he came close, and pressed a note into my hand, and just left.

I opened the note, and it said "stay strong. You are not the only one."

I had no idea what that could mean, and was too upset to really think about it at the moment, so we went home. Something about that boy nagged at me, something familiar to me. Since I started remembering Allison’s life, I had feared that I would lose my memories of my old one, and at that moment the fear came back very strong.

What about that young man reminded me of something from my past? Then I realized he had been the only boy in weeks who could approach me without me panicking I thought, “Could that mean . . . “ At that moment, I remembered. The question was, what could I do about it?

Trying desperately to think of a solution, I finally fell asleep. The next day, I went back to school, as Allison’s folks decided there was nothing for me to do there, unless they decided to call me to testify. Allison’s friends Nikki and Lisa continued to act as my bodyguards, trying to keep me stable.

Allison’s main rival for Valedictorian had stopped talking about me in public since my struggle to keep together was so obvious that she apparently decided that it would be like kicking a puppy, but the “net was full of rumors that probably came from her or her friends, so I had decided to stay off-line for now.

Not being able to socialize, I really had put a lot of effort into Allison’s schoolwork, and felt sure that even if I had to take off time because of the trial, I was sure to be one of the top students. The boy who had given me the note was in Allison’s drama class, and I really wanted to talk to him, but it turned out, he wasn’t there that day.

I was really frustrated. Somewhere in this mess was a solution, but I couldn’t seem to find it. After school, I made my way to my old residence, hoping to catch my mom before she went to the hospital to sit with my old body. She was home, and I decided I needed to take a bit of a chance. I couldn’t tell her I was actually her son in this girl’s body, but maybe I could bluff something.

So I said to her, “Mrs. Collins, I was surfing the other day, and I looked up Mark. There was very little, but it did say he was a poet and author, but no listings of any works. Did he write? Can I see some?”

She looked at me hard. “I know you have felt some connection to Mark, but I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to let him go. The past is . . The past. It’s too late to help him now.”

I wanted to scream at her “Tell the truth! Face who and what your child was, for once!” But coming from Allison, that would only confuse and upset her. I left, frustrated. I couldn’t find the boy.

I couldn’t get my mother’s help, and it seemed sure to me that Allison’s attacker was going to go free, and I will have failed her. I needed something to go my way. I felt like I needed a miracle.

Not sure what else to do, I went home, and logged on to Allison’s computer. Maybe I could do this another way. I went to a site that I had submitted poetry to as Mark. But it was down for repairs, so I would have try again tomorrow. I went to bed extremely frustrated.

The next day, I had an idea, if that boy showed up. As an act of faith, I wrote a note for him, and went to school. I got lucky, and he was there, and I managed to slip him the note. It read “please. He is going to get away with it. Meet me tomorrow after school.”

What I would say to him then I was not sure, but I was prepared to give away my secret in exchange for his. The rest of the day was uneventful, and I went home, still unsure of myself. To my great shock, Allison’s mom and my mom were together, talking.

My mom said to me “Allison, I had a dream last night. Mark told me he couldn’t rest until I gave you this. Please take care how you use it.” Then she handed me a binder, and left. I knew what it was without looking inside, it was my life, as Mark. Now I felt like I had a chance, if only the boy would meet me.

He was at school, and just when I was ready to lose hope, he showed up outside the door after classes. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but he said to me, “I have been dreaming of you since just after your attack. In my dreams, you have been begging me to help you. But you don’t understand what that will cost me.”

“I think I do.” I said. I showed him the binder I had gotten from my mom. “Let me tell you a story,” I said, “There was a boy with a secret, something that set him apart, left him feeling isolated and alone. Then one day he thought he found someone he could trust, and shared his secret with that person. Except that person betrayed the boy, hurt him, and used his fear of having his secret revealed to force him to keep quiet.”

“So the boy didn’t do anything about what had happened to him, and the person went on to hurt other people. When the boy found out about the others, he blamed himself, and never really felt good afterward. This pain and sorrow remained right until the day he stopped to pick up a girl fleeing from an attacker of her own, and his life effectively ended.”

“Read his story, and I think I know what you will need to do. “ I said. And I gave him the binder, and left to go home. I couldn’t sleep that night. Was I right? I had only been guessing that he had something in common with my life as Mark.

And even if he did, could he find the courage I had lacked and do the right thing? The next day, I went to class, and was disappointed to find that the boy hadn’t shown up. I was so depressed, that even Allison’s friends Nikki and Lisa could make a dent in my sadness.

I had failed Allison, just like I had failed as Mark . .. . Slowly, I made my way to Allison’s home. It was Friday, and I stewed the whole weekend. I was totally at a loss to know what to do. But, Monday, I was on my way to my second class of the day when Allison’s name was paged to go to the office.

I was shocked to find Allison’s mom there, and she told me there was a break in the case against my attacker, a new witness had come forward and was going to testify that afternoon. We went to the courthouse,, and I listened with pride as the boy, whose name was Tim, told his story.

The defense moved to change the plea, and by the end of day it was clear that my attacker was going to go away for a very long time. I went up to Tim, and hugged him.

“You were very brave” I said. “I don’t know what my folks are going to say” He said. “Plus, its going to come out at school too. I saw one of Silvia’s friends in the back, and she left just after I testified. By tomorrow, everyone at school is going to know.”

“Well,” I said.” you wont be going through it alone. I will stand by you, if you will let me.” So with Allison’s mom’s permission, I went with him back to his house and supported him when he told his folks what had happened. To his shock, they were very proud of him, and promised me that they would help him deal with what happened, and do anything else he needed so he could be okay. I left them hugging and crying together, and went to Allison’s home.

I phoned Allison’s friends, and told them what happened, and got their support to helping Tim deal with the fallout at school. So the next day, we met him as he was coming in, and stayed with him the whole day. As soon as Silvia and her friends realized we were going to back him up, they got tired of trying to get a rise out of him.

The rest of the week everyone was busy getting ready for finals, and very soon, we were passing around yearbooks getting signatures. We just had a grad ceremony and a dance to go, and high school would be over. I asked Tim, and with the co-operation of his parents, we made it a special day for him. I was voted Valedictorian, and planned to use the speech and the dance to show my support for him.

So at the speech, I said “There is someone here without whom not only would I not be here, but without whom my attacker would have gone free. You have always known him as Tim, but I think its time to introduce the real person within - may I please present, my girlfriend, Tina”

And with her mom’s help, she looked beautiful. And we danced the night away in matching dresses. Unfortunately, I got a call the next day from the hospital, and just made it there in time to witness the passing of my old body. Why had my body held on so long?

Well, I had a dream that night that might explain it, although I can’t be sure. I dreamed that Allison came to me to say “Thank you. I couldn’t rest until I knew that justice was going to be done.“

I said “But, what about taking back your life?“ “I can’t. I could only hold your body together long enough, and that’s all” She said.

“But, I should be the one dead, you have your life ahead of you.“ I pleaded.

“It’s all going to be okay. We both know why you deserve this, don’t we? And I am going to a place of peace, and you can join me when its your time.“

And so my old life passed away, and I am making the best of this second chance I have been given. I decided to write down what happened to me as part of a course I am taking in sexuality, and so with Tina’s permission, who is still my girlfriend, I am going to submit this to my prof.

I have a feeling he will consider it fiction, but that’s okay too.

End