This choice: Morgan "Sapphire" Powell, a local stripper. • Go Back...Chapter #4Morgan "Sapphire" Powell, a local strip... by: Wassel   Your first thought as you looked upon the peacefully sleeping face was that the doctors had gotten the wrong room, or that this was some kind of weird joke, as that was definitely not Randall lying there...it was a woman. A very beautiful woman.
"That...that's not..." you stuttered, unable to properly get the words out as you pointed to the figure on the bed, looking back round at Kerry and Saunders standing behind you.
"It is, Timothy," Kerry replied, placing a hand on your shoulder, and telling you as matter-of-factly as he could, "that's Randall."
Oh my God! you silently murmured to yourself, realizing what the doctor was telling you was true, but being unable to properly accept it as that. There was no way in hell you could possibly recognize her as such, as your closest friend; the woman before you looking nothing like the curly red haired boy you'd been friend with ever since he'd dropped a pile of mud on your head in preschool. This woman was gorgeous. She was beyond gorgeous! Possessing long, golden blonde hair and stunning model like features. Not to mention the fact that she looked much older than Randall was. By at least five years. The rest of her body being covered by both the green hospital gown she was dressed in, as well as the bed sheets, but despite this, you could still make out quite the prominent shelf pushing out from her chest. Indicating that she was indeed stacked. The realization that this breathtakingly beautiful woman was now Randall completely blowing your mind. Finding yourself just staring slack jawed at him for the next several seconds, not even making a sound.
"I know this must be very difficult for you," the doctor told you then, "but as we already explained before, given both the severity and nature of the operation, this really was the only available donor we could find."
"Who... Who is she?" you asked, once you finally managed to find the words.
"Her name was Morgan Powell," Kerry explained. Putting emphasis on the word "was". "She was 24 years old and as far as we've been able to discern her occupation was..." Pausing then, as if not knowing quite how to say it. Clearing his throat uncomfortably then as he continued, "Well, she was a stripper at a nearby club."
"A stripper?!" you shrieked. Assuming that she might be a model or something with a face like that, but hearing that she was a stripper... that Randall was now some stripper, really did come as quite the shock.
Proceeding to listen then as they told you everything they knew about her. From how she'd been involved in the exact same car accident as well and had suffered a brain aneurysm due to the impact of the cab she was in slamming into the back of the truck. Therefore making her the ideal (and the only) candidate for the transplant. Seeing how, apart from the part of her brain that they had replaced with your best friends, the rest of her body had been left relatively unscathed. As well as the fact that not a lot seemed to be known about her past, beyond what she did. Not being able to find any trace of any family or anything.
Apparently he was perfectly fine though. The transplant had been a complete success and he was well on his way to making a full recovery when he woke up. This being good news you supposed, yet it still couldn't take away from the idea that your friend was now some busty, blonde bombshell. The exact kind of girl that Randall himself had always lusted after. It just seeming so weird.
Then of course there was the matter of what was going to happen to him now. There being no way he could just return to the same life he'd had before. That he could continue going to school looking like that. It appearing that the doctors already had other plans.
"Listen, son, this might not be the best time right now, but Dr. Kerry and I have been talking this over," Dr. Saunders said, looking down at you now with a very serious, no-nonsense expression on his stern, gray face. "This situation...what's happened to your friend, well we really do think it would be best for everyone if nobody else found out about any of this." Explaining to you then that although they had saved Randall's life, the procedure they had used to do so hadn't been in the strictest sense 'legal', and if anyone found out it would make things very messy for everyone involved. Not to mention the fact that the media would be all over your friend 24/7. He wouldn't be given a moments peace and would no doubt be paraded around on television like some sort of freak. Not wanting this for him at all.
"That is why," he continued, "when he wakes up, we're going to request that he keep things quiet and go on living his life as if he were actually Ms. Powell, and we'd like you to do the same."
"Wait,...what?" you asked, not entirely sure you'd heard him right, "You want me to what? ...Pretend like my friend is actually some stripper? Some stripper who I don't even know? You've got to be kidding me!"
"It's not that we want you to pretend you don't know each other, Timothy," Kerry replied, "We just want everyone else not involved with this procedure to think that Randall died in the accident and that Ms. Powell simply had a little bit of head trauma and had to be kept in the hospital for a few days. You and your family will still know the truth as will Randall."
"What about his parents?"
"We can inform them, if he wants us to, but nobody else can know. He'll have to take up her identity completely and you'll have to play along, at least in public."
"The rest of your family have already agreed to this and signed a non-disclosure agreement," Saunders informed you then, holding out the clipboard in his hand and giving it a quick tap with his finger. This coming as a huge shock to you. Not quite believing your family could decide something like that so quickly. This being your friend's entire life they were talking about here. How could they make a decision like that without even discussing it with you or with Randall? Even if deep down you knew that they were right and this was purely in your friend's best interest. But still, you couldn't help but feel like this was a betrayal somehow, a betrayal of his very identity, to pretend he'd simply died.
Continuing on about the various legal matters and forms that would need to be signed, you found yourself zoning out from Dr. Saunders voice and your attention drifting back again towards your sleeping friend, lying there peacefully on the bed, without even the the faintest clue what had happened to him. It just seemed to so wrong, so unnatural that this could happen, and even though you knew that you had to try and be strong for him, to be the friend that you had been since kindergarten, you weren't sure what the hell you were going to say to him; knowing full well that things would never be the same for either of you from this moment forward.
 indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline  · Recent Additions © Copyright 2024 Wassel (UN: wassel29 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Wassel has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author