Mrs. Francis

Wrapping yourself up in Dawn's body again, you put on your clothes as you thought to yourself.

I could try for one of Michelle's other friends, but that'll be complicated. But what about.. her mother?

When you think of Mrs. Francis, a you feel familiar, as if you've met her before. But of course, because Dawn frequently visits Michelle's house for things like sleepovers, or to pick her up to go clubbing. As Josh, you already knew where Michelle's mother lived, and that's where you were headed.

About an hour later, you park you car in the driver of Mrs. Francis' home. Getting out, you walk up to the door and knock, yelling out for anyone. You'd seen a car parked in the garage just in front of your car, which would be Mrs. Francis'. The door opens suddenly as you look back, Mrs. Francis gives a complacent look, as if she was surprised to see you, before warmly smiling.

"Dawn! Honey, how've you been?" She says, letting you in through the front door.

The two of you exchange fake greetings, hugging and kissing each other's cheek. The familiar feeling you felt, it was one of animosity. For some reason, you feel disgusted by Michelle's mother. The two of you walk into the living room.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Dawn?" She asks.

"I needed to ask you favour, Mrs. Francis." You say, grabbing the pen from your pocket.

"Oh?" She notices you fiddling with your pocket and frowns, "What do you need?"

"You'll find out." You say, crooked smirking as you zap her in an instant.

Eyeing her crumpled form on the floor, you scoff.

"Bitch."

Picking her up, you proceed to walk up the stairs into a nearby bedroom. The room you enter is large but seems still. You recognize this from Dawn as Michelle's old room, the one she had before moving on campus. Draping Mrs. Francis' over one of the bedknobs, you strip down. Quickly pulling her skin over your own, your body assumes her shorter stature and you feel your body age. Mrs. Francis is older than Dawn, but still relatively young as she had Michelle at an early age. You feel your breasts become more loose and your legs slightly flabbier, not as well-maintained as your own. Zapping yourself with the brown pen, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel Mrs. Francis' personality flow through you. Patricia Francis is your name, you're 41, single mom. Shaking your head, you dispel the entranced feeling and walk out of the room, looking for your new body's phone. Finding it in another bedroom down the hall, you pick it up and dial your daughter's cellphone number.

"Mom? What's up?" Michelle's voice comes through the phone, and you hesitate for a second.

"Hey honey, how are you? I'm calling to tell you that your Uncle Jake is coming into town and I want you to come back home to see him whilst he's here." You lie.

"Uncle Jake? Wow, haven't seen him in a while. Sure, I'll be home on Sunday." She says.

"Lovely, see you sweetheart!" You say in her mother's high tone.

"Love you, bye." The phone beeps as the call ends. You pull the mask of Mrs. Francis face from Dawn's, you feel relieved as your cheeks tighten up with youth.

Now that all that's over with, all I need to do is wait for Michelle to come over. Glancing at your phone's display, it's currently Friday.

That's two days, you look around the room and shrug.

Not a bad place to crash.

Pulling Mrs. Francis from your body, you let her fall into a heap on the floor as you let your skin get some fresh air. Climbing into Mrs. Francis' bed, you grab a nearby TV remote and turn on the TV on the other side of the room, mounted on a chest of drawers.

(Author: Dystrophia)