...go home for now.

Chapter by Wassel

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"Shit, I must be going mad or something..." you thought to yourself, resting your head against the leather steering wheel, the stress of your current situation definitely getting all too much. "My body's in a coma, I'm stuck inside my mom's body, and I'm actually sitting here worrying about what a load of accountants are doing inside a hospital. What the hell is wrong with me?" Deciding not to answer that, and going with your gut instinct, you then took your mother’s car keys and turned on the ignition, figuring that home was a far better place to be than here right now, and that there at least you might actually find someone to talk with about all this stuff.

Fortunately you were currently in the process of getting your temporary drivers license, and while you didn't have every aspect of driving nailed, you were pretty sure you'd be able to get from A to B without too much difficulty. Although as with everything else you'd done so far today, being in a woman's body; your own mother's, might make things a little trickier, and you just had to hope you could put it all out of your mind for the moment and focus on getting home, as hard as that might be. "After all, I don't want mom to end up in hospital with me."

So, pulling out of the hospital car park, and giving the strange black van one last little glance as you passed (noting a lack of plates on the back), you headed out into the big bad city, driving as carefully as you could as you made your way home (your mother's SatNav proving incredibly helpful for figuring out where you were going.). For most of the journey, you tried not to think too much about what was going on, nor the rather uncomfortable feeling of your seat-belt squishing up against your mother's large boobs (a feeling that made not thinking about the body you were currently in and what was attached to your chest pretty much impossible), and instead tried to figure out who was the best person for you to talk to; someone you knew you could trust and who would actually believe your crazy sounding story. Someone preferably who'd know exactly how to get you back inside your own body and out of your coma again.

"Hm, that doesn't leave me many options," you said to yourself as you got ever nearer to your house, thinking it best to focus on the first two attributes for the moment and leave the third for later.

First and foremost, you guessed, was your father, John Jenson, who you knew was a very intelligent man, being a chemical engineer for some government plant somewhere. You knew you could trust him of course, he was your dad, and surely as a "scientist" of sorts, he'd have a logical brain to help figure out this whole mess. The only downside was that you weren't entirely sure if he'd at your house or not, or if he even knew about your accident yet, being an incredibly distant man and barely ever at home, always away on some project or other and seemingly having little time for you and your siblings. Not to mention the whole 0% chance of him actually believing your story.

"Okay, who else have we got then?" you then wondered, moving onto the next option, "Hm, maybe Ms. Findley could help, she's smart, and taking care of people is her job."

Ms. Carolyn Findley was of course your high school math teacher, and your favorite teacher to boot. In fact she was pretty much every student's favorite teacher whether they were in her class or not, if you were male that is. At 30 years of age, Ms. Findley was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, with an incredible smile and a body that made men go weak at the knees (her big, succulent looking breasts being a particular highlight). Plus she was a very friendly person and seemed to genuinely care about her students well being (unlike a lot of other teachers at your school), and you figured as she was so good at listening to people and had somewhat of a level head, she might actually believe your tale. The only downside to this was having to actually approach her while wearing your mother's body; usually turning to jelly in front of her at the best of times, never mind while inside someone else's skin.

For a third option, and something of a backup, you then thought of your best friend, Spencer Davis. "Well I guess I can trust him if nothing else, and he's probably more likely to believe me than any of the adults would." Spencer was the same age as you, and you’d both grown up together, the Davis family living only four houses away, and sometimes seeming more like your 2nd brother to you than your best friend (though you still had the same stupid arguments and falling outs that most friends did). Spencer was slightly geekier than you in some ways, but at the same time a bit more adventurous, walking a fine line between geek and jock that was quite hard to explain. He was smart when it came to a lot of things (though usually nothing that actually helped him in an academic capacity) and read a lot of books, but at the same time he was much better at holding his own in fights and hooking up with girls than you were. Not to mention the fact that he loved setting off homemade explosives, much to your father and the neighborhood cat's annoyance, your back garden usually ending up looking like a miniature bombsite after he'd been over. "Still, I'm pretty sure he'd just laugh his ass off if I told him I was my own mother. Plus with all his supposed "book smarts" what exactly could a 15 year old boy actually do to help?"

"Shit, I just don't know what to do...I'm not sure anyone can actually help me. This situation is a total nightmare," you sighed, finally having arrived at your street, and pulling up the car right next to your house. Sitting there, with the engine still running, you gazed at the familiar building, peering at each window, wondering if you might see your little brother or sister inside, waiting patiently for your mother to return, with news of what had happened to you.

"If only mom was here..." you thought to yourself, gazing up at the reflection of her soft, green eyes in the mirror, "...the real mom. If only I could talk to her about all this, like I should have done back when I was Mindy...."