Better Get Ready

Aubrey stared in disbelief into her own face. Only it wasn't her face. Somehow her son, Mark, had been transformed into an exact duplicate of her, taking on her exact image. Again the room swam. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and calmed down. Having fainted once already, she had no intention on further bruising her body.

"What should I do?!" Mark asked again, frantically. It was strange to hear her own voice coming from someone else.

Aubrey opened her eyes once more and climbed to her feet. Her son stood up with her, looking painfully misdressed, wearing his pajamas that had fit quite well the night before, but now looked like they were ready to burst up top, and drop down below.

"We can't leave you like this," Aubrey said in a soothing tone. She still loved her son dearly, and it pained her to think of him suffering, "We need to get you something more appropriate to wear. It wouldn't do to have you gallivanting around, showing my body off."

She smirked at that, hoping a little humour would disarm the situation. The ashen look on Mark's feminine face said that it didn't work. Reaching down, she took him by the hand and walked toward her own bedroom. He wouldn't like dressing in his mother's clothes, but Aubrey was sure he'd at least feel a bit more comfortable. Mark followed along without complaining, he always had been such a good boy. Once dressed, maybe they could figure out what was going on.