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The Accident By Katie Dale I was a normal teenage boy. Healthy and happy. I was very smart ? always got good grades even without studying. I actually liked going to high-school. I did a lot of reading ? both fiction and non-fiction. I especially liked long novels. I was also into computers. I didn't have my own, but on the family computer I enjoyed a bit of programming, word-processing and web-surfing. I also played sports, although I wasn't so into them. But I was able to run fast, hit a baseball and catch a football; I was very thankful that I wasn't born a wimp like two of the boys in my class ? they never really participated in the sports we played at school and weren't very popular. Looked to me like they had pretty miserable lives. Luckily, I was in the "in" group at school. My family wasn't rich, but we had what we needed. I, Jim, was 15. After me, I had a 13-year-old sister, Caroline. Caroline and I were very close, best friends. When we were little, our family lived in a neighborhood with only older couples, and we didn't have any neighbors our ages, so we played with each-other all the time. Our friendship lasted into our teens, long after our family moved to a more normal neighborhood. Caroline was kind of a late bloomer ? at 13 she was still pretty flat-chested. She was also slightly chubby ? not very, but she wasn't as slim as the swimsuit models in Sports Illustrated. She had slightly messy brown hair ? she never really managed to comb it neatly. But she definitely made up for all that with the way she dressed ? she dressed really, really nicely. I actually had a disagreement about this with her. Like I said, I was a normal teenage boy. I enjoyed looking at the girls in my class, and I enjoyed when they dressed nicely ? in short skirts or tight shirts, etc. But, especially because I knew how much I liked looking at them, I DIDN'T like it that my sister dressed that way. To me, my sister was a real, great person, and it made me sick to think of boys looking at her the way I did at other girls. I knew what those clothes did to boys ? they made them forget that the girls were human beings and just think of them as objects, sculptures, paintings, works of art that were put on earth for men's enjoyment. I already had a few agreements with her when she wore tight clothes or short skirts and the like, but I quickly learned that my points didn't come across to her. She just couldn't understand. She just thought the clothes made her look nice, that's all. She didn't believe boys really thought the way I told her. She wanted to dress attractively, in the way everyone else in her class dressed. When I realized that there was no way I could change her, I decided to drop the issue and try to ignore it. But every once-in-a-while, when she got dressed up really pretty, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. One day I was walking with Caroline to the mall. We were crossing a busy street, and for some reason, one of the lenses of my glasses popped out of the frame just as we were in the middle of the street. Caroline didn't notice and continued crossing, while I bent over to find and pick up the lens. I didn't notice the truck run the red light? I woke up from what felt like a really long, deep sleep. My body ached slightly, and felt really weird. I tried moving a bit but it was too difficult. It felt like my arms and legs were weighed down by something. I tried opening my eyes, then noticed that I seemed to be blindfolded. I began to panic. I opened my mouth and tried to say something. "What's going on?" I tried to shout. My throat felt strange as I said that, and my voice sounded very different than usual. Then I heard my mother's voice. "Oh, Jim, you've woken up. Don't worry, everything's going to be fine. You were in a really bad accident, but by a miracle you were saved. You've been through a lot and your body needs lots of time to recover, so just relax. You've been sleeping for a month now, this is the first time you've woken up." I think when she finished saying that I drifted off to sleep again. I don't know how long I slept for. But I woke up again. Again, I couldn't see or move. I decided to just listen for a while and try to figure out what was going on. I could hear some people speaking quietly but couldn't make out what they were saying. I could hear a "beep beep beep" that must have been my heartbeat. My body still felt really weird and I couldn't figure out why. Nothing really hurt anymore, but I felt stiff, I guess from lying in bed for so long. I decided I'd had enough of this. It was time to come back to life. "Is anyone there?" I asked in my new voice. I wondered why my voice changed. I used to have a normal, male deep voice. Now my voice was higher, childish, almost girlish. I assumed it must have to do with the medicine they were giving me or something like that. I hoped that my balls were still intact after the accident. Nobody seemed to have heard me, so I tried again, a little louder. "Is anyone there?" Someone came rushing into the room. It was my mother. She began speaking to me. "Here I am, Jim. Sorry about that. You slept again, for about three days. The doctors said they're going to take you off the medicine that's making you sleep now, so you should start being awake during the day." "Why can't I see or move?" I asked. "Oh, the doctors were worried you might injure yourself while you slept, so they had to put you in restraints. I'm sure they'll take them off soon. I'd do it myself but it looks too complicated to me. He should be here soon, don't worry." "And why can't I see?" "They also put blindfolds on your eyes. They were afraid that the light would be too much of a shock for you, after you've been sleeping for so long. If you want I can take off the blindfold and put sunglasses on your eyes to see if you can handle it. If your eyes start hurting, though, let me know, 'cause we'll have to put the blindfold back on. We don't want to permanently damage your eyes. "Now close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you." She began removing the blindfold and putting the sunglasses on me. "Now when you do open your eyes, do your best not to move your head. Just lie still and relax, and look around a bit by moving your eyes only. Okay?" "Okay Mom," I said. "Good. Now you can open your eyes." I opened my eyes. Even through the sunglasses, the light was very surprising. I squinted for a while until my eyes adjusted. It still made me a bit dizzy, and I did as I was told, and tried not to move my head. In this way, I could see the ceiling and the walls, and the people standing around me. But I couldn't see myself at all. There was another woman standing beside me, aside from my mother. "Are you the doctor?" I asked her. "No dear," she said, and began to cry, silently. She left my bedside and went to sit down. Weird, I thought. "Who was that woman, Mom?" I asked. "Oh, you'll meet her soon enough." "Could I have something to drink?" I asked. "We'll have to ask the doctor about that when he comes. You're still hooked up to an IV so you don't really need to drink. How do you feel, Jim?" "Mom, I feel okay, really. I mean, nothing really hurts. My body's kind of sore, I think from lying in the same position for so long. But other than that, nothing hurts. But still, I feel really weird, like my body's not the same or something. But I can't figure out why. And what's with my voice?" She answered, "Anyone who lies in bed for a long time without moving gets sore. We tried our best to exercise your arms and legs while you slept so that it would be easy for you to get back up on your feet when you woke up, but you'll still need physiotherapy to get used to walking again. "As far as the weird feeling, you'll understand about that soon enough. Jim, I need to talk to you about your accident. What do you remember about it?" "Nothing really. Just that I bent over to pick up a lens that fell out of my glasses. While I was bent over, I looked up, and saw a truck coming towards me. I don't remember anything after that." "Jim, the accident was really bad. It's such a miracle that you're alive. Caroline saw it, and almost had a heart attack. You know, she's been sitting by your bedside every night, all night, since you've been admitted? She was so worried about you. "The truck ran a red light. He hit you at full speed. You went flying through the air ? you flew about 20 feet, Caroline says. When you landed, another driver who didn't realize what was going on accidently hit you, and drove right over your legs. Everyone who witnessed it was sure you were killed. "All the traffic stopped. Caroline ran up to you and started doing CPR. Minutes later an ambulance came. By a miracle, they managed to stabilize you on a portable respirator and drove you to the nearest hospital. Caroline rode with you to the hospital. On the way she called home, but nobody was there. She left a message on the machine, crying and saying we should come to the hospital immediately, that you were in a horrible accident and she didn't know what would be. "We got to the hospital. The nurses didn't want to let us see you ? they said you looked awful and probably wouldn't make it, and our last memory of you shouldn't be like that. But we insisted. The sight was horrifying! I can't even describe how horrible you looked. Of course, you weren't conscious. "The doctors said that they were keeping you alive on life support, but your body wouldn't survive much longer. There was just too much damage. Even if by some miracle they were able to save you, you'd be completely paralyzed. But they said that even that wouldn't be. The only thing that remained intact was your brain, and that was being kept alive by life support. But your body wouldn't be able to support it much longer. "We started to grieve, realizing we were losing you. The doctors thought you wouldn't last the night, but you managed to keep alive for a couple of days. Then your situation started deteriorating and we realized it was just a matter of time. "There was a doctor ? an intern ? in the ICU who approached us secretly and told us he knows someone who might be able to help us. An hour later, we were sitting on a park bench with a professor who wouldn't tell us his name. He told us that he's been perfecting a procedure that should be able to help us. He said he already performed it about a hundred times on animals, and it worked perfectly. Even though the procedure had not yet been legalized, for certain reasons, he secretly managed to perform it five times on people, all successfully. "The procedure he was talking about is what might be called a "brain-transplant" in laymen's terms. It's a real complicated procedure ? performed mostly by a computer that analyzes each segment of the brain and "reconstructs" the new brain. You see, they can't replace the whole brain, because your brain wouldn't know how to control a different body. So they only transplant part of the brain ? the part with the person's personality and knowledge and memory, while the part of the brain that controls the involuntary aspects of the body ? reflexes and stuff ? remains. Somehow they manage to piece two brains into one working one. "You can understand why this procedure hasn't been legalized ? it has enormous philosophical and moral outcomes. Most people are against such procedures on ethical grounds. But we wanted to try it ? we wanted anything that could save your life." I was listening to all this, astonished, contemplating all the consequences of what happened to me. My mother continued. "The donor body in such an operation must be in a very specific condition. It must be whole, and in perfect working condition, aside from being brain-dead. It's very hard to find such bodies. The most success is had with drowning victims. Also, the body must be fresh ? when it's kept on life support for too long it won't work anymore. "Practically, it is very difficult to perform such an operation, since it is illegal, and if the professor got caught, that would be the end of him. It costs a fortune. Obviously, medical insurance won't cover it. And it must be performed in a secluded, private hospital where nobody would find out. "Fortunately for us, the professor said he had enough connections with the hospital that they would allow him to sneak you out in the middle of the night and transfer you to a different hospital, no questions asked. He also said he knew of one appropriate donor body, and he already spoke to the parents of the body and they agreed to allow the procedure to be done. He also said that the parents of the body were very wealthy and were willing to pay for most of the procedure themselves, as long as we could work out with them some kind of joint-custody deal. They were so broken that their child had drowned in their own indoor pool, and wanted to do anything to get at least part of him back. "We met those parents about a half hour later, and had a long talk with them. They were very nice, didn't make any demands at all, and offered to help us out any way we can. They just wanted to be able to be involved in your life. "Your father and I thought it over for a moment, but we realized that we had no choice ? you would certainly die if we didn't do anything, and at least this way, you had a chance to live. The parents of the donor were so nice about everything that we felt really comfortable with them. We gave the professor our 'Okay'. "That night you were whisked away to a small hospital just out of town. The donor had already arrived there, the day before. The operation was performed, successfully, that very night. You remained in that hospital for a few days, and then were transferred back to the first one. The recovery from the operation took a very long time. You were kept in an artificial comma for two months to allow the new brain to get used to the new body, and vice-versa. Finally, just yesterday, the doctors decided that it was time to let you wake up. You were in perfect physical condition, and your body was responding perfectly. So here you are. "What do you think of all this? Are you mad? Do you think we did the right thing?" I thought for a moment. I guessed that was the reason my body felt so different and my voice had changed. "Of course, Mom. Thanks. I'm very thankful I'm alive. You did a wonderful thing for me. I can't thank you enough, really. I really don't want to die!" I began to cry a bit. My mother gave me a hug. I couldn't hug her back because my wrists were still bound to the bed-rails. "Jim, it's going to take you a while to get used to your new body. Just take it easy, take it slow, okay? We're all here to help you. That woman you saw earlier is your body's mother ? she was so excited that you were finally waking up ? she's remained at your side almost constantly since the operation." "I bet it was difficult for her that her own son couldn't recognize her," I said. "I feel bad I said what I did. She did an amazing thing for me ? it's so sad that her son died. I hope she comes back ? I'll be real nice to her and her family. I'd love to get to know them, and even be like their partial-son." "That's so nice of you, Jim. You've really always been such a nice, kind person. I'm sure you'll make them so happy, just like you've always made us and make us happy." My mother gave me another hug. "Jim, there's some more details I need to tell you, and this is going to be a big surprise to you, but I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. It'll probably take a while to get used to, but you will, with time." "What is it, Mom?" I asked. "I'm sure I could handle anything, I mean, I'm so grateful to be alive!" "Well, Jim, you know like I said, in these procedures it's very difficult to find a suitable donor. In fact, the professor told us that many other people who wanted it done on their family- members, and even had the money to pay for it, didn't get it done in the end because no donor was available. After the procedure he told us that he hadn't had a single donor in over three months, and that there was another family that was interested in this donor, and was even willing to pay twice the price for it. But the professor was an ethical man and wouldn't be bribed, and said that since we came first, we had first dibs. So you understand that we were very lucky that a donor was available. We had to take what we could get ? we didn't have options to choose from." "Mom, if I have my life back I sure won't be picky about how my body now looks! Man, I'd be dead if it wasn't for this!" "You're right, Jim. I think you have a very healthy attitude to the whole thing. But this is still going to be a big shock." From all her apologetics I began to get a little nervous. What did I look like? Was I Asian, now? Was I black? No, that didn't make sense since I saw my donor's mother and she looked pretty white to me. I suppose the father could be something else, but I had a feeling that wasn't it. Maybe I was a lot older, now? Maybe I was younger? Maybe I was a girl?! The last thought made me kind of nervous, but I didn't think that could be the case, I mean, a boy's brain couldn't control a girl's body ? it didn't have the right hormones and stuff. "What are you trying to get at, Mom?" "Jim, the body that is now yours, well, is different from what you're used to. Quite different. For one thing, you're much younger now. I know you probably don't feel it. Mentally, you're still your own age. And intellectually, you still know the same things and think the same ways you used to. But when you get out of bed, and when the nurses take the restraints off your arms, you'll notice that your body's much smaller. The donor of your body was 10-years-old." With that, my mother stopped talking and let me ponder the situation. I thought it over for a while. I would have to grow up, all over again. My opportunities would be quite limited now. I thought about the applications. But, I had to be thankful, I mean, most importantly, I was alive. So maybe now I'd grow up as some kind of child prodigy, a genius. Oh well, I was sure I'd get used to it. You can't get picky when you got your life back, right? "I'll get used to that, I guess. Is that all, Mom?" "No, dear, there's one more thing. Ummm, how should I put this. Your donor body, I mean the child of the woman you saw earlier? well, I mean, um, it was? female. It was a girl. Jim, you're a girl now. I know this must be very hard for you. I'm so sorry." I didn't say anything. I didn't cry. I didn't shout. I just thought. I thought, and thought, and thought, and thought, and thought? * * * A few hours later, they finally took the restraints off, and I raised my head a bit to finally take a look at my new body. Thankfully I was still flat-chested. They removed the catheter and helped me to the bathroom to piss. I was kind of stiff but I was able to walk pretty well, unassisted, right away. I was really shocked by the way I looked, but I tried not to look at myself and not to think about it. I didn't even look in the mirror in the bathroom. Then I was taken to physical-therapy. Since my new body had died in a swimming pool, there was no normal clothing for me to wear. My coming out of the induced comma was a surprise to my body- mother (I decided to mentally differentiate in my mind between my body-family and my brain-family ? to their faces I called them all just Mom or Dad) and she didn't bring any clothes over. So I had to go down to PT wearing the hospital gown. It was quite difficult walking while holding it closed in the back, but a nice nurse came and gave me another gown to wear on top, backwards. Still, this clothing was not suitable for PT. The physical- therapist said not to worry, that the hospital has clothes for such situations. He went and brought me an exercise leotard that looked pretty small (sleeveless with a low back ? it could have doubled for a girl's one-piece bathing suit; it had the hospital's emblem and the letters "PT" printed across the chest). I was shocked that he expected ME to wear THAT. My debates with my sister Caroline jumped into my mind. "I can't wear THAT!" I announced, boldly. Body-Mom chuckled and said, "Don't worry, Jessi, I'm sure it'll stretch when you put it on." She thought my only problem was that it looked small. (Brain-Mom had to go home to take care of some things. I agreed to let Body-Mom accompany me by herself. She was a nice, pleasant woman, and we talked a lot and got along nicely. She treated me well, except a lot of the time she treated me like a child. Then, when I would use words or sayings that a ten-year- old probably never heard of, she would laugh. Once I heard her say, "such big words coming out of such a little girl!" Getting used to the patronizing treatment was going to get used to. I wished she wouldn't treat me that way, but I figured it must be hard for anyone not to, when I look exactly like a 10-year-old. Besides, I kept feeling sorry for her about her daughter's tragic death, and I figured it would comfort her if I did my best to fill in and play the part. So I did my best not to get annoyed. But the leotard made me nervous. "No, I didn't mean that ? not that it's small ? I meant that ? I mean, it's too immodest!" Body-Mom and PT man both laughed. PT man said, "it's a very modest suit, Jessi. Besides, that's what everyone wears here. Don't worry ? you won't be different than anyone else." I said, "Everyone? I can't imagine that the BOYS have to wear those ? so why should I?" "Jess, you wouldn't want to dress like a BOY, would you?" PT man asked. Little did he know! "Have a look around at the other kids here. See? There are lots of girls wearing those suits. The boys wear shorts and a tank-top. Anyway, it helps us work with you ? it's better for us if we can see exactly the way your body moves and the way your muscles flex. That way we can help you if you're doing something wrong." I didn't know what to do. "Mom, please! Help me! It's embarrassing!" "Jessi, if we had other clothes here for you to wear, then you could wear them. I'm sorry that we don't really have that choice right now. You don't have to be embarrassed ? you always looked really nice in bathing suits. Anyway, you're just a little girl ? nobody's going to even look. I think we should just concentrate on getting you all better so we can get you home." PT man was fascinated. I guess he never saw this kind of conversation between a mother and her 10-year-old daughter before. I thought for a moment and figured Mom was right ? best to just get this over-with and go home already. Reluctantly, I took the leotard and headed for the changing room. As I walked away I heard PT man telling Mom, "She's really a riot. Usually the little girls who come here are excited to be able to wear a bathing suit, and ask if we have a pool. I've never seen one react this way before!" Mom said, "Jessi's a very special kid." Inside the changing booth I removed my gowns and stretched the leotard over my new body. I did my best not to look, and kept trying to tell myself that my body's only 10 and too young to be a pin-up model. Once I was in the suit, I took a deep breath and left the booth. There was a boy, maybe about 12 or thirteen years old, doing some exercises on the nearest mat. When I came out of the booth he stopped his exercises, sat up, and looked at me with a big smile on his face. I felt sick and quickly walked away from him, trying to hide my butt with my hands. PT went pretty well. I did some stretches, walked for a long while on a treadmill, and other stuff like that. When I was done and went to happily discard the leotard and cover myself up again, Mom suggested that I keep it on under my clothes for the time being until some of my normal underwear arrives. Given that I was having trouble keeping all covered up even with the two gowns, I figured she was right and did as she suggested. When we got back to my room, I asked Mom if she could please bring me some normal clothes from home, the next time she's there. She said she would. Caroline came to visit me. She gave me a big hug and brought me some books to read ? good old Stephen King novels. The nurses were astonished by what I was reading but said nothing. The next day, at PT, I wore normal clothes that body-Mom brought me from the house ? pink mid-thigh shorts (not spandex, I was grateful) and a white T-shirt. PT man didn't say anything. I spent a few more days in the hospital. During these days I mostly wore a set of pajamas ? top and pants, that were pretty boyish in style ? light blue. I showed no interest in girlish outfits or pastimes, and I think it was especially hard on body- Mom, but she was patient and let me do what I wanted. Together with brain and body Moms and Dads, I decided that initially I'd go live in my body's house. That would be more convenient since everything was already set up there for a ten- year-old girl ? school, friends, wardrobe, etc. Body-parents said they'd buy me my own computer with a modem, and my own phone line, so I could be in touch with my brain-family as much as I wanted to, with privacy. On one of my last days in the hospital, I started thinking. I thought of how sad it was that the real Jessi died, and how horrible it was for her family. I also thought about the miracle of my being saved. I felt I really owed it to my body-family. I decided that since I got a second chance at life, I should do something special. I decided that from now on, I would do my utmost to be the very best person I could, and the kindest person I could. I decided that my extra-kindness would have to start in my body- home. I would try my best to make up for their lost daughter, try to give them pleasure from me. That would mean trying my best to act like a ten-year-old girl. I figured that since it made no sense to try and become a tomboy, or to try to pretend I was still a boy, I'd have to accept being a girl. I'd have to begin acting and dressing like a real girl. I had a bit of a dilemma, because I still believed it was wrong ethically for girls to dress in the way they did, but on the other hand I knew my body- family would be pleased if I acted the way their daughter used to. I wasn't sure what outweighed what ? my beliefs and fears of being dehumanized by the way I dressed, or being nice and making my body-family happy. In the end, I decided that I'd start out by acting like all the other girls, for at least 6 months, and then I'd re-evaluate. I figured that this would be the best way, for a number of reasons. First of all, it was true that I was now only ten-years-old and at this age the dehumanization was less severe ? people usually just thought of girls like me as cute, but not as sexy. Second, I had no idea how to be a girl at all ? aside from the dress issue. I needed to get used to this fast if I wanted to be able to fit into society, and the best way to do this, I figured, was to act for a while completely like a normal girl ? in dress and in habit. Once I got the hang of it, I could start re-evaluating and introducing slight changes in my manner of dress, slowly, so it wouldn't be too much of a shock to the family. It made no sense to insist on dressing like a nun right from the start. Also, I figured that at age ten, many girls are still being told by their mothers what to wear and stuff like that, so it wouldn't be unusual that I wouldn't be able to pick out girlish outfits by myself. So my mind was made up. From now on, for at least six months, difficult or not, I was going to let my body-mother dress me in the way Jessi normally dressed. After six months I'd re-evaluate. I started looking through the photo albums of Jessi that body-Mom had brought me. She thought it might help give me an idea of who is was, now. They had been sitting in my room for a few days, but until now I had refused to look at them. Now I started flipping through the album, looking over the pictures of the cute little slim girl with the straight long blond hair and big blue eyes. She ? I ? was really a beautiful kid. At first the thought made me feel sick, but then I remembered my commitment. There were lots of pictures of bathing suits, ballet outfits, other dance costumes, Halloween costumes, pictures of "me" in gymnastics leotards doing all kinds of jumps, twists and stretches (she could do the splits ? I wondered if I still could). She was always dressed up really pretty. I walked to the bathroom to get a look at myself in the mirror. I realized that I really did look quite pretty, even during a hospital stay. There would be no escaping this. I went back to my bed and thought about everything. Just as I was finishing thinking this out, body-Mom and an orderly came to take me to my last PT session. Figuring this would be a good way to start, to concretize my new decision and that this might also please body-Mom, I purposely "forgot" to take with me my short-and-T-shirt PT outfit. That way I'd have no choice, but be "forced" to wear the silly leotard thing again. When we got there, PT man said hello and told me to go get changed. Then body-Mom said, "Oh no, Jessi, we forgot your clothes. Well, you wait here ? I'll go up in to your room to get them." "No, Mom, I don't want you to go to trouble. I'll go up and get them myself ? you wait here," I played along. "No, Jessi, I don't want you running around for nothing. It's okay, Jessi, I'll go get 'em." "No Mom, really, that's not necessary. Look ? I'll just wear the exercise suit that they provide here." PT man and Mom exchanged silent glances. Then PT man said, "Okay, I'll go get you one." A moment later he came back, and without hesitating I took it from him and walked into the changing booth. Don't think this was easy for me ? I was just a good actor. Really, my insides were eating me out for this. But I had made up my mind ? I figured this was best, and this is what I would do. When I came out of the changing booth wearing the leotard there were three boys who stopped their exercises to look at me. At first I felt uneasy, then I remembered my decision and acted. I made a point not to try to cover myself up with my hands. I just smiled at the boys, and then turned and slowly walked away. "Enjoy, perverts," I thought to myself. Mom said, "Jessi, you really look SO nice!" "Thanks, Mom." That afternoon we were told that I could go home. Body-Mom said she'd call home and ask Body-Dad to bring me some going-home clothes. "What kind of clothes would you like to wear?" she asked. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Bring me the kind of things I normally wear," I said. Body-Mom looked surprised but just said okay. I finished getting dressed, in a black pleated skirt that ended about two inches above my knees, a pink shirt with short sleeves with a little vest to wear on top, and a pair of white tights. I sat on the bed and Body-Mom, sitting behind me, brushed out my hair. While she did this, I looked over my really girlish-looking body with a hand-held mirror. As she was nearing finishing, everybody showed up ? my brain- parents and Caroline, and my body-father, and Jessi's two 12- year-old twin brothers. They all came to escort me home from the hospital. I got hugs from everyone. I was going to start living in my body-home. Of my body-family, only the parents knew the truth about me. My body-brothers, Jason and Fred were told that I had made a miraculous recovery, but nothing more. My brain-family were now our family's long lost cousins. Body-Dad told his sons that he discovered that his father had a brother that he never knew about? The two families were going to do their best to become very close. I'd go visit them on weekends, and body-family said that they were going to help brain-family out financially so they could sell their house and move in to the vacant home next door to them. Over the next few days I spent a lot of time on the phone with my brain-parents and Caroline. They also visited me the first two days. I was enjoying myself in body-family. They were very nice people. As promised ? on the first day home, body-father took me to the mall, and after getting the make-over body-Mom insisted I get, he took me to a computer store to pick out my new computer. The salesman was shocked at how well a ten-year-old girl understood computers. I wore girls' outfits, now, all the time ? whatever Mom picked out for me. I even slept in a short nightgown. I was beginning to get used to this. My new life was pretty interesting, because mentally I was quite mature, and was able to think about really interesting ideas. But, if I wanted to, I could get silly and fool around and act childish, and nobody could think or say anything about it because, hey, I was, after all, only ten-years-old. On Thursday night, four days after coming home from the hospital, I was looking through my room and my closet, and I found this outfit hanging on a hanger. It looked to me like some sort of cheerleader's outfit, or maybe a skating dress. It was a leotard of some sort, made of smooth white satiny material, with a pink stripe diagonally across the stomach. It had a button in the back, at the neck, that probably revealed a big circular section of the wearer's back when buttoned up. It had a very short skirt attached to it that was longer in the front and back and shorter on the sides. And it had pink attached panties. I took the outfit off the hanger to just feel it. It looked really cute. It looked small, but from my experience with the PT, I knew it was supposed to be. Could this little thing fit me? What would I look like in it, I thought. My curiosity was beginning to get the better of me and I was considering trying it on, when my body-parents entered the room. They saw me looking at the outfit. "Hi Jessi. Were you thinking of trying that on?" Mom asked. "Yeah, I was just looking around, and I found this, and I was wondering how it would look on me." "Why don't you try it on and come downstairs to the living room ? it's been so long since we've seen you in your gymnastics outfits, it would be really nice if we could see you in it," Dad said. "Yeah, and if you want, we could try to show you some of the gymnastics moves you used to do. Do you know that you can do the splits?" Mom asked. I thought for a second. "Okay, I'll try it on and come downstairs." "Great ? see you soon, sweetheart." They both gave me kisses on the cheek and left my room. I took off all my clothes and pulled the leotard on, buttoning it behind the neck. I was right ? a large portion of back was visible. I looked EXTREMELY beautiful in it, I had to admit. I decided to finish the image and looked through my drawers and found a white scrunchie. I brushed my hair back and put it up in a bun, with the scrunchie. Then I found a pair of white ankle socks with little pom-poms at the back and put them on. I stood in front of the mirror. I was beautiful. There was no question about it ? I was a girl. I smiled, and a really cute 10- year-old girl smiled back at me from the mirror. I liked the way I looked. I headed downstairs to the living room, where I began taking "orders", doing all kinds of bends and twists and splits. I was surprised at how flexible my body was. It was a lot of fun to do, and enjoyable seeing the smiles on my body-parents' and brothers' faces during my "show". Of course, as I was doing this, the skirt was constantly flipping up revealing my cute little round, pink- cased butt. For some reason, I enjoyed that, and it just made me want to do more. On the weekend I went to visit my brain-parents. They were very nice ? never made a comment about the way I was now dressed and my old philosophy. Caroline offered to take me to a near-by indoor water-park. I took her up on the offer, but I didn't have a bathing-suit with me. She got me one of her old ones, from when she was 10. It was a royal-blue bikini with a little skirt over the bottom part that only reached half-way over my butt. I took it and we went to the water-park. She said it was fun having a little sister. I said it was fun being her little sister. Next week I start school, again. I'm a little nervous that I'll be really bored. But at least it will be easy. I'm planning on having a good time. THE END?