Aamina

Fluttering eyelashes, the heart monitor beeped. I expected someone to call me, like my mother, to softly stroke my head and say, "Aamina, it's okay, you're safe now." She wasn't there though. Thank Allah she wasn't with me when it happened, that I was alone.

Alone in an empty hospital room. Water droplets landed on the floor next to me. They came from An IV bag, with a leak in. It was attached to me. I pulled it out, getting up from the bed. The bed itself was stiff. As the air got to my back, it felt refreshed. As I felt up my spine, there were little round sores. They were aligned with the long slit in the hospital gown. Luckily, they felt small. Stroking the gown which tickled my back I paused, How've I gone from a grey jacket and khakis to this abysmal white thing?

Somehow, I'd gone from being in a broken down car, having got out to fix my engine, only to see a yellow race car speeding at me. Right. It must've landed me in hospital.

But I had to be grateful. I was still alive. I found it impossible. My broken down hunk of junk must've taken all the damage. I was fully functioning too, walking round, staring at the dull walls. A strand of hair fell in my face.

That was odd. I could've sworn it was...blonde? I'm Asian. With black hair. I've been desperately trying to wax my moustache and now there's a crash and I'm blonde? I blew the strand upwards as I exhaled, making my way over to a mirror.

I stopped for a moment to scratch my nose. Raising my hand I noticed it was white. Wait, WHITE?! I ran over to the mirror, having more breath than I expected. Behold, before me stood a gorgeous, leggy blonde, a perfect model body. The body I'd been striving for since I'd hit puberty. The closer I looked, the better I felt. It had slim fingers; no longer would I have those nasty, stubby, sausage fingers. My nails, too, were better than ever, not crusted or chipped; they actually had the natural ability to grow. They were long and painted a pretty, pale pink. The kind of pale colour that would never have suited me before.

God had blessed me. I'd been reincarnated. I twisted round and felt different parts of my body, in awe. I had a neck for the first time. It wasn't squished up by a roll of fat. It was slender and long, matching the rest of this perfectly made heavenly body.

It felt like Christmas morning. My present was a brand new body, a whole new one to do whatever I pleased. I could walk around, without my thighs chafing, without the fear of sweating. My hair was glossy and trimmed at the edges. I no longer had my split ends.

The full length mirror gave me too much to admire. I had petite feet. They were to die for, with high arches, and small ankles. I could now wear heels with straps on now. There wouldn't be any cankles here. Just sculpted legs, on a sculpted body.

I put my new hands to my face. My skin was flawless, not a bump to be felt. There were no wrinkles, her lips hadn't thinned like mine, they were plump. Must be somewhere in my late twenties now. It made sense. This body obviously hadn't had any children, I thought, placing my hands on my flat stomach. There was a hint of a six pack. My breasts weren't ruined by breastfeeding. No sagging. My back didn't ache from holding up my breasts; instead, I had perky, reasonable Cs.

My shapely legs. My varicose veins were gone. The hips to waist. Perfectly in proportion. No stretch marks anywhere.

I ran my fingers through my hair, barely any knots. I smiled at the new me. As my lips parted, I saw straight teeth staring back at me. All those years where I couldn't afford a dentist. Ah, I pranced on over to the window, a brightness in the sky and a chirping from the birds I'd never quite heard before. Everything was perfect. Until I saw a blonde woman striding hand in hand with a man on the street.

It came to me.

That woman. In the Lamborghini. It was only a glimpse, but she was blonde... my mouth dropped and I covered it with my hand. This wasn't my body. I must've invaded it, like a parasite and taken over her soul. It was wrong. Revolting. I ran to the bathroom.

There was a mark on the mirror; so I tried to wipe it off, a squeaking noise as I rubbed the glass. Half my face twisted into an angry expression. My right eyebrow rotated slightly, arching downwards towards my nose. My lips were parting to show my teeth. I jumped back. Was it a stroke?

Half my face was neutral, half angry. How did it do this? Was she a model? I nodded. That would explain her minimal facial expressions and how she'd kept her body in such a pristine condition. I try to push down my feelings, only look at the bright side. I was younger and fabulous.

I turned away from the mirror, out to my room. I wasn't going to feel guilty for another woman's mistake. She'd clearly driven that thing where she shouldn't have.

The room felt more open, less claustrophobic than the bathroom. It was pretty spacious considering it only had to fit me. And now me was a size 8.

"Ms. Danks," a doctor opened the wooden door to my room. He directly addressed the body I was in, but I just stood and blinked at him for a moment. His eyebrows came together; a look of confusion. He dismissed it and looked down to his clipboard, "Ms. Danks, I need to run some tests."

"Sure."

He looked off to the corner, pulled the wooden chair that was there and sat on it, facing me, "Do you remember anything from the crash?"

I had to think for a quick second, "I was in my Lamborghini and crashed into a woman on the break down lane."

He nodded, "Let me clue you in. I think you need to sit down."

I walked over to the bed, sat on the end. I felt the covers. They were pretty thin considering how icy the room was.

"The woman you crashed into...passed away." He looked to his hands as he placed them in his lap. After a moment's silence, he lifted his head slightly, as if expecting me to say something.

"Oh yes, horrible, horrible. I feel so...horrible."

"Indeed." He stared at me, a hopeless expression, "Well Ms. Danks, it's not all bad news." He smiled, politely, "When the ambulance came to collect you, she was classified as dead at arrival. But, life has a way of working itself out. She happened to be carrying a donor card," he raised an eyebrow. I had an idea of what I thought he might be getting at.

"If you take a look, you'll notice a small incision on your chest."

I pulled the collar of the gown away from me. He was right. There it was - a scar on my chest - right where my heart was.

Being an organ donor had turned out for the better. My family were wrong. My soul wouldn't be rejected from heaven; I wouldn't have an afterlife and be missing an eye. I'd migrated from one body to another. My good deed benefitted me. Having that donor card was the best thing that ever happened.

 "Ms. Danks, you were very lucky. Extremely so. That Lamborghini has airbags of the best quality. The only thing that got damaged was your heart, but as we know, you needed a replacement anyway. You've been asleep a few weeks now, but have undergone a full recovery."

My head moved up and down like a bobble head's. I was in a bit of daze after hearing that my body and that other woman were dead.

"Now, I know you're not in the best condition at the moment, but the police are here to question you."

They came in at the end of his sentence, holding onto their belts and strutting through the doorway. The doctor slipped out and shut the door behind him.

"Ms. Trixie Danks?" One asked, with short brown hair.

I nodded and he continued, "You stole that Lamborghini."

Of course, that's why she was so reckless.

Reviews

[Sarah H. (Shadow Mage)]

Wow! I wasn't expecting such a twist!
This book was really good :D I enjoyed it.

[Persona]

Thank you - I never finished it. I barely started and decided to leave it for a few years until I may revisit it.

[J. F. Charleston]

Wonderful. I thought it was a contiuance from the chapter Verdict when you mentioned the yellow Lamborgini. I like how you had set this chapter up.