You're too damn tired.

You've had enough. This was all too much. You're entire life was fucked. You'd have to tell the authorities or your family something. You pulled back onto the main street of the town and parked at a decent motel. The doorbell goes cling as you walk up to the clerk. You'd never stayed at a motel, but this clerk was a living stereotype, and elderly bald fellow with cynicism painted all over his face. "80 dollars a night. 500 a week.", the clerk stated flatly.

"Just a night.", you respond equally as flatly. He must have seen a thousand of your type of people come and go through here. It was a motel after all. He peers up from the computer screen to his left and says "What's the name?" "Eric... Erica Lancaster.", that had slipped you up. You hadn't even thought of your name until now. "Ok, room 11, here's the key, call the operator if you need anything.", the clerk says handing you the key to your room. "Thank you.", you reply curtly and enter your room.

You lock the door behind you and immediately begin stripping your clothes while heading toward the bathroom. You drop your pants to the floor, kick them off, and stand in front of the bathroom mirror to get a good look at the new body you're stuck with. Hmm. Very pretty. You look a lot like your mom but with darker auburn hair and blue eyes. You're lithe, thin with C cups and a nice curvy bottom but not ridiculously so.

Your eyes are bloodshot, you look haggard, and there are little bruise marks where baldie had slapped you. You step in the shower and turn on the hot water. You kept scrubbing and scrubbing trying to think about what happened and just let the heat of the water relax you. The entire night kept replaying in your head over and over again and still you kept scrubbing until you couldn't take it anymore.

You burst out sobbing, balling up into the fetal position at the bottom of the bathtub hugging your knees as tightly as you could to just try and blot out the fact that your old life was gone. Everything would be different now. You must have sat there for 10 minutes, leaning your head up against wall, numb. You slumped forward one hand on the ground and picked yourself up. You grudgingly pulled yourself out of the shower, dried yourself off, and went back to staring at your new face in the mirror. Your old face was still in there.

You say to the new self in the mirror with resolution, "I will not let this control me." You caress each side of your face with your hand, inspecting each side, taking in this new "form" you had to work with. You could make this work. Maybe this was a new lease on life. You brush your teeth and sleep more deeply than you had in decades.