Jaime
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Jaime free porn video
Jaime
By Cid
I'm in the backseat of my mom's old station wagon; she had just picked
me up from school. She was asking me if we should pick up granddad from
the house and go out to eat, or just stay home and make sandwiches. I
was about to tell her what I thought when suddenly; something hit my
side of the car. I could hear my mom screaming as my eyes slowly
closed, drowning me in darkness.
I'm shocked awake by the unsettling ending of my latest dream. Opening
my eyes, I find myself staring at the tiled ceiling of a hospital room
and I remember; it really happened. Any thought or fantasy that this
was still a dream is destroyed as I take a deep breath. The harsh and
unyielding scent of antiseptic spray combined with the smell of a
living body that hasn't moved for a week makes me face reality. I've
been in and out of sleep and I keep having the same dream. It's kind of
weird. Each time I have to remind myself of the facts. My mom and me
were in an accident. I passed out when the car hit us. When I came to
there were a bunch of people hovering over me and I was in excruciating
pain. It was so bad I actually passed out again. Eventually I woke up
again and found myself in a room I would quickly get tired of. Upon
waking up, I noticed I wasn't in pain anymore; it was than that I also
realized I couldn't feel much of anything else. My mom proceeded to
tell me the sickening truth. I could no longer walk, or move any part
of my body. I was dead from the neck down. I would never be able to go
out for walks, never sketch, or draw; I will never be able to do much
of anything ever again. Me, Jaime, son of Margarita Hernandez and some
jerk who couldn't be bothered to stick around is now a frickin'
quadriplegic. How am I going to get through this?
I turn my head, and see my mother asleep in a chair; her handkerchief
sits on her chest. I don't think she's stopped crying since we came in
here. I think she feels guilty that she walked away with only a few
bumps and bruises, while I wasn't so lucky. It wasn't her fault. I
don't blame her for any of this it was entirely the fault of the idiot
in the other car. I hope she doesn't worry herself sick over me.
I take a moment to crane my neck and get a look at my surroundings. A
few flowers, a couple a cards, and a floating Mylar balloon come into
view. They were presents from a few people that came to see me, not
that I had any real connection to them. Just some people from church
whose names I can never remember, a teacher or two that I actually
liked, and a few distant family members I never really cared for.
Granddad came and stayed for a day or two before he had to go home. He
never really strays from the house for too long. As for friends, I
don't think Kurt and Annie even know I'm in here. Mom never really
liked them, that's why she put me in private school.
"Excuse me, son?"
Turning towards the voice, I see two men in business suits standing in
the doorway. I'm kind of taken aback by their appearance. The one who
spoke is tall, gaunt, and completely bald. The other is short, paunchy,
and has a severely receding hairline. They almost look like a creepy,
gothic version of Laurel and Hardy.
"Could you tell us where your mother is?"
"I'm his mother."
I turn and see mom rising out of the chair, her handkerchief clenched
in her left hand as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with her right.
"May we speak to you out in the hall?"
"Yes. I'll be with you in a moment."
"Mijo, do you want me to bring you anything, something to eat or
drink?"
"No thanks, but do you know who those guys are?"
"I don't know, I think they may be with the hospital. Do you want me to
turn on the TV?"
"Yeah, sure."
The light coming in from the hallway allowed me to see only a
silhouette of her 5'5" frame as she picked up a remote and started
flipping through the channels.
"There's a cartoon. Is that okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks mom."
"Si, mijo."
I watch her exit the room and close the door behind herself before
turning my attention to the TV. It's one of those shows that features a
series of vintage cartoons in a half-hour. This was as actually a very
welcome distraction. I spent the next half-hour laughing along with the
classic Tex Avery and Chuck Jones directed shorts that danced across
the screen.
I'm not sure when I fell asleep, it must have been somewhere between
the last cartoon and the beginning of one of those annoying courtroom
shows. I woke when I realized my mother was whispering in my ear. As I
slowly open my eyes, I realize she wasn't talking to me. She had been
praying. I turn to face her and see her sitting in the chair again
holding a brown paper bag. I immediately see the troubled look on her
face.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she answered; although I could see she wasn't being honest,
"I just wanted to wake you up, because I brought you some 'Phish
Food'."
"Thanks, mom. What did those guys from the hospital want?"
She pulls her chair up closer. Reaching into the bag, she takes out a
white plastic spoon and the ice cream. She spoon-feeds me as she talks.
"Those men weren't with the hospital."
"Then who were they?" I ask in between spoonfuls.
"Eat your ice cream first."
I begin to notice the nervous look in her eyes and I start worrying.
"What's wrong?" I ask with just a twinge of fearful, urgency in my
voice.
I see her bite her lower lip before eating a spoonful herself, almost
as if she were stalling.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I ask with growing urgency.
As she sets the carton to one side, I notice how much her arm is
trembling.
"Mijo, those men I spoke to weren't with the hospital. They told me
that they are surgeons from a pharmaceutical company. Aside from
medicines, they work on and perfect experimental types of surgery. They
said that they had developed a procedure that could let you walk
again."
"Really?"
"Because the procedure is experimental they will do it for free. I just
signed the papers allowing them to do it."
"Wait a minute," I began my concern growing. "Don't I get a say in
this?"
"They needed an answer very quickly"
"You mean quickly as in two minutes after they told you about it?"
"Look mijo I don't know why they wanted to know right then."
"Well can you at least tell me what they are going to do to me?"
"I don't know it's all too complicated. Just trust me that I agreed to
this in your best interest."
My entire life I have been in the shade of my mom's thumb. I always do
everything she wants with little or no protest. When she took me out of
public school and away from the only friends I've ever had, there
wasn't much I could do. I shouted, I argued, and I even tried throwing
a temper tantrum (Not my greatest moment, but you can't fault me for
trying). In the end, I still went to the local Catholic school. She
told me it was for my own good. It's for my own good that I still can't
drive, can't get a job, and I'm still not allowed to go out on dates.
No matter what, I can't seem to argue with her for too long. Looking
over at her again, I notice a strangely pensive look on her face.
"I guess if it'll let me walk again it'll be aright, but what's wrong?"
"I guess I'm just afraid that it might not work and of the consequences
if it does."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind."
Great now I have more to worry about. I know I'll never be able to get
anymore out of her. She has the habit of pretending not to hear, or
flat out ignoring you, when she doesn't want to say anything. Her
evasiveness concerned me, but I was so concerned about this new
development that I pushed the feeling aside and decided to just be
content with the possibility of being able to walk, run, and draw
again.
I spent a few more days in the hospital before I was transferred to the
company's medical facility. My surgery is tomorrow, I'm so nervous.
Ugh... How long have I been out? I slowly open my eyes and see the
tiled ceiling of a recovery room; it seems like I've been doing that a
lot lately...
"Oh, God! I can't feel anything!"
I begin to panic as terror races through my mind. I had actually gotten
used to not being able to feel anything, but having my hopes raised and
then dashed like this felt awful.
"I'm a freakin' vegetable!" I yell in fright.
"No you're not," booms my mother's stern and concerned voice.
Her face suddenly replaces the view of the ceiling; I think she is
clutching my temples in her hands.
"Mijo, the operation was a success," she spoke to me in a quiet, even
voice, "The doctors said that in order for your body to avoid
experiencing too much trauma caused by frequent movement, your entire
body had to be numbed."
"Numbed?" I asked not quite yet believing her.
"Yes, the surgeons said the spinal chord was successfully reattached
and is growing strong. You can move slightly, but you can't feel it.
It'll be at least a month before it will be safe to take you off the
drugs."
I still wasn't sure but I realized I would have to trust her. I mean,
come on, she's my mom. I spent the next month, as far as I could tell,
strapped down to a bed eating, watching TV, and sleeping, a lot.
Despite the disturbing situation I was in, I kinda liked the continued
break from school and studying. I think I have one more week until they
take me off the drugs; at least that's what I think I've heard the
doctors say. I can't wait to be able to feel myself move.
Once again, I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of the tiled ceiling.
Feeling incredibly bored with lying down, I yawned as I have before.
Except this time, I felt it! I could feel my heels dig into the hard
mattress as I stretched my suddenly mobile legs. The feeling hadn't
returned entirely, I could only feel my legs from below my knees and I
think my hands. I also felt a strange heaviness on my chest. I didn't
wasn't strong enough or even physically capable of moving, but if I
could I would have jumped up in excitement. So I had to settle for
turning to wake up mom.
"Hey mom wake up!" I yelled.
But I saw she wasn't there, I guess she was still at work, she went
back to work a few days after my operation. I didn't know what else to
do so I lay there until in walked a woman in a white lab coat pushing a
little metallic cart.
"Are you Jaime Hernandez?"
She pronounced it "Jay-mi", the way someone ignorant of Spanish
pronunciations would.
"It's pronounced Hi-me," I corrected her.
"I thought that was a boy's name."
"It is!"
What's wrong with her? Is she blind or something?
"Okay...I was running late so you missed your last dosage."
She rolls the cart over to my I.V. and I watch her as she picks up a
syringe and a large vile of a clear liquid. She takes the syringe pokes
the needle in the bottle and pulls the liquid in as she pulls out the
plunger. After tapping it and squirting out a little liquid, to get the
air bubbles out, she injects the liquid into my I.V.
"There. I hope you didn't experience any discomfort Miss. Hernandez,"
she tells me as she exits the room.
What the hell is she talking about? I wonder as the temporary feeling
begins to deaden.
"Mijo, wake up. Wake up."
"Ugh," I groan as I wake up with a splitting headache. I couldn't have
been asleep for long, or maybe I have. I've drifted in and out of sleep
so often I can't even count the hours or the days, someone usually has
to remind me.
"The doctors are going to take you off of the drugs now. You've been
asleep for the past week!"
"I have?"
"Yes, the doctors say it is safe to do it now."
"It is?" I ask still so groggy all I can do is ask two word questions.
"Yes."
"So it's almost time for me to go home then?"
"Not yet, they have to run a few tests before that, you will be allowed
to move around for your physical therapy, though." "But, before that
there is something I really need to tell you."
For the first time since this talk began, I opened my eyes and was
greeted by my mother's face; once again plagued by the same look of
apprehension she had on the day she spoke to the men from the
pharmaceutical company. It was a look that said, "I need to tell you
something, but I don't know how."
"Jaime, I need to tell you something, but I don't know how."
That was weird.
"Just say it mom."
"I'm afraid of how you'll react. Because you are going off the
medication, you will be able to feel again in a short while; before
that happens I need to tell you something important."
"All right, tell me," I say starting to become impatient and nervous.
"When the doctor's came to me and told me about the procedure that
would allow you to walk again, I was repulsed by the idea at first. But
they kept telling me about how this procedure of theirs would work
because all the proper conditions existed. It pained me to think that
you could never be a fully functioning person, so I accepted."
This doesn't sound good.
"This procedure was so controversial that the company continued its
research in secret, once they achieved a 90% success rate with lab
animals, they decided to fully prove its usefulness; to do that they
needed to carry it out on a human."
Why is she telling me this? What does this have to do with me?
"So you could walk again, I allowed them to remove your brain and place
it in another body."
"What!"
My mind was racing. She wasn't serious was she?
She continued, "There was someone else in the hospital that day,
someone who was left brain dead after an accident. Because of the
condition that this person's body was in, it was used to put your brain
in it. They were able to cut this person spinal chord to best reattach
it to yours."
I'm trying to stay calm, but one part of me wants to flip out over
this. Another part of me is relieved I can walk again, no matter whose
feet I'm doing it with.
"I really don't know what to say," I tell her trying to contain my fear
and anger, "I'll just have to get used to this."
"There's more, Jaime"
More?
"Um...the body used to belong to an American."
"So I'm white now?" I ask her in a quiet voice, "It really doesn't
matter." I continue trying to control myself.
"No, it doesn't mijo, but...It was an American woman."
"What!!" I scream no longer able to control my anger and fear, "You
mean I'm a girl now! You're lying! Why are you doing..."
"Mijo, por favor, te estoy desciendo la verdad!"
She always seems to forget English when she gets upset, but right now,
I'm so angry I don't care.
"Show me! Show me what they did to me!"
I hear her search through her purse. A small mirror soon greets me. I
see a white girl, about 20 years old, bright blue eyes, long blonde
hair, a rather pale complexion; the kind gained after extended period
of time out of the sun. The kind of girl I might find attractive, if
she wasn't staring back at me from a mirror.
This new development slowly sinks into my mind, and my anger bubbles up
again.
"How could you let them do this to me?"
"Hijo, quer?a que tengas la oportunidad para una vida normal!"
"Hijo! I'm not a guy, I'm not a girl! What kind of normal life can I
have like this?"
I don't want to be so cruel to her, but I can't help it. They always
said that I had anger indicative of my family name. Whenever I flew
into a rage they would jokingly say, "Puro Hernandez!"
Looking at my mom now, I could see she wasn't in a joking mood.
"Voy a regresar despu?s," she said in a choked voice, "Pero quiero que
entiendas! Lo hice porque no pod?a ver te as? en la condici?n que
estabas!"
I hear her exit and I'm left alone with my anger and my guilt, as the
part of me that was bound and gagged during that entire episode finally
breaks free. Why did I do that? I'm glad I can walk, and move, and
feel. This part of me doesn't care that I now have a body that is the
exact opposite of what I used to be. Yeah it's going to take some
getting used to and there is no doubt that this will cause some type of
trouble. She did it with the best intentions. I only wish I could have
had some say in all this. Should I apologize?
"Damn it!" I yell as I throw the small mirror against the far wall.
The next couple of weeks involved me going through physical therapy. I
found out the woman's body had already been in the hospital for about a
month before my accident, so some of the muscles were weak. They also
had a nurse talk to me about a few aspects of the female body that I
would have to get used to. It was one of the most uncomfortable talks I
have had to endure. The doctors ran various tests, and determined that
I had full usage of this new body. I also got to talk to them about the
procedure; specifically I asked them if they could reconnect the spinal
chord; why didn't they reconnect my brain to my own spinal chord? They
said my own body had been too badly damaged, had they done it I
wouldn't be any better off. I saw my mom during the tests, she didn't
say much to me. Even though I should have, I didn't try to speak to her
either. Eventually it came time for me to leave this place, I had never
been happier in my life. I had just gotten dressed, my mom had brought
me one of my pairs of jeans, I was surprised they fit, an old Reebok
sweatshirt, and an old pair of Adidas that my mom never wore. I had one
foot up on a chair as I tied my shoelaces, when out of the corner of my
eye I saw someone enter. Taking my foot down, I turned around and saw
it was an American woman, with a look on her face I really couldn't
place.
"Uh, can I help you?"
"What's your name," she asked in an anxious voice.
"Jaime Hernandez," I tell her still kind of puzzled as to who she is,
"Who are you?"
"I'm Mary Kent the mother of the young lady whose body you now have."
I don't know what to say now. I mean, what do I say to the mother of my
new body? Jeez, I can't believe how uncomfortable this is.
"I want to speak to Debbie?"
What is she talking about?
"I'm sorry but, who?"
"My daughter, Debbie Kent, is she still in there?"
"No ma'am," I begin unsure of what else to say, "Ever since I woke up
like this, it's only been me." Well that sounded incredibly dumb.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sorry but it's just me."
"I see."
She starts rubbing her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the
door.
"Oh, why did I let them do this?" she wailed out loud as she started
crying, "I was hoping that having another brain in her body would be
like changing a battery. A simple organ transplant, I hoped she would
still remain; I didn't think it would turn her into someone else!"
Great, what do I do now? I walk up to her and place my hand on her
shoulder; startled she looks up at me and starts crying again.
"Do you have any idea what I'm going through? For 30 days, I sat at my
daughter's side as she lay on a hospital bed, brain dead because of
some damn freak accident. I wished there was something I could do, but
there was nothing. Then one day those ghouls came to me and said that a
young person had been in an accident and that the conditions for this
operation of theirs were perfect they wanted me to allow them to place
someone else's brain in my daughter's body. I was so desperate for some
kind of miracle recovery that I quickly accepted their offer; I was
hoping that she would still be Debbie. But I can see she's not, she's
someone that I don't know. My daughter is dead, but here she stands in
front of me moving and breathing. I'm sorry this won't work, I hoped
that even if Debbie was gone you could still be a comforting reminder
of her, but it's just too painful."
She started to turn and leave, but before she left, I realized I needed
something from her.
"Wait, Mrs. Kent. I need to ask you something."
"Yes?" she asked through watery eyes.
"You were taking such a risk why did you do it? And if it had worked,
what if Debbie resented having part of someone else inside of her?"
"I just wanted what would be best for her, just like any mother would,
and I hoped that she could understand. Your mother probably wanted what
was best for you, too."
"Yeah, I guess she did. Thank you, I think I know what to tell my mom
now."
She started to leave but stopped, turned and faced me again.
"Can I ask you to do something for me?"
"Yes, of course."
"I want you to close your eyes and not say anything."
"Excuse me?"
"I want to say good bye to my daughter."
"Okay."
As I close my eyes, I hear her shuffle towards me. I feel her hands
grip my shoulders, she stays in that position for a little while.
Suddenly I'm startled as she embraces me, no not me, her daughter. She
kisses her on the forehead and returns to standing in the previous
position holding her shoulders. I feel her hands drop away and her
shuffling footsteps as she exits the room. I open my eyes and find
myself alone, until my mom enters through the open door.
"Who was that?" she asks.
"I'll tell you later mom," I tell her as I hug her, "but I think
tonight we need to seriously talk."
"We'll talk about whatever you want," she says as she hugs me back,
hard.
"Let's go home then."
Epilogue
It's a chilly autumn morning as I walk along the university campus with
my sketchpad under my arm. A strong wind whips my hair around. I try to
hold it down but I get distracted by looking at my hand. The paleness
that was gone. Has it really been that long? Hard to believe but, it's
been three years since the operation, my brain is 19, and my body is
23. I've gotten used to the situation with my body. It was a little
weird at first, especially when taking showers, but I adjusted. This is
my second semester at the university and I'm showing promise as an art
major. I have made several friends here; I still live with my mom and
grandfather. The night I got home from the hospital I talked to my mom
and things have been different since then. I've been making many of my
own decisions and I feel like I am finally living my life for myself.
Sitting down I pull my pencil from behind my ear, open my sketchpad,
and I begin to sketch the fountain in front of the university library.
Three years ago I wouldn't even consider drawing the same thing more
than twice. The idea of dwelling on the same subject kind of bored me.
I guess getting a new lease on life tends to change your outlook.
"Hey Jaime," I hear someone call my name.
I turn around and see Chris running over. Yeah, we've been dating for
awhile, and we're pretty happy.
"Are you drawing the fountain again?" I hear as Chris sits down. We
share a brief kiss before I ask,
"Well, what do you think?"
Safiya
- 02.04.2021
- 17
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