Tell her the Truth

Your mouth flaps for a moment, the futile gasping of a fish flopping on the deck of a trawler. And then you burst into tears. The great enveloping hug Laura rushes over to deliver only serves to open the floodgates further.

"Hey, hey...it's okay love. You're safe." She plants a gentle, maternal kiss on your forehead. "You think you can tell me what's the matter?"

"I...I...I was a...a man...Am a man..." You manage, forcing the words through rough, body-wracking sobs. You feel her pull back from the embrace slightly. Though from revulsion or confusion you cannot tell. You take a few deep breaths to steady your voice before continuing. "I was kidnapped by slavers... they cast a spell on me... it went wrong and allowed me to escape... but now I look like this... I shouldn't look like this..." The tears start flowing again, and Laura pulls you close against her body, her hand brushing your hair lightly.

"Here, here, dear. That's a lot to go through for anyone. But you're safe here. No-one will be comin' for you here. I don't know nothin' about no magic, but come the mornin' I can take you round town and we can see if the local 'Pothy might know anythin'." You nod faintly into her collar bone, and she pulls back, properly this time, lightly gripping your chin with her hand to guide your eyes to hers. "You are going to be okay, my dear! I know it might not feel like it right now, but we'll work somethin' out. I promise!"

And you believe her. You're not sure why, but there's something so honest about her presence; an earnestness that can't help but reassure. You can't help but get the impression that she'd make a fantastic mother. Better than the one I had, that's for sure.

"Okay dear: I need to go head downstairs now. Gotta tell the mister you're up and okay. Once I'm done, I'll go get you that food I promised, you must be famished!" The plump, matronly woman stands and makes for the door once more. And, just like last time, pauses at the frame. "Oh! Where are my manners? What should I call you dear? Whilst you're like this, that is?"

And that makes you think. You hadn't really considered that. You get the impression that going by your old name might not be the wisest idea, especially in a small town like this. Too many questions. Laura's obviously a very nice person, but I have no idea how anyone else might react to hearing what happened to me. Country bumpkins aren't exactly known for their understanding. An impression of guilt stabs your stamach. These people rescued me, nursed me back to health. They deserve better than that.

Still though, the point remains. You need a name. A new name. A girl's name. It might feel...wrong... but it is nessecary.