An old man dying in the hospital, regrets the choices that he's made in his life and how those choices affected those around him. He prays to God for a chance to make everything right.
This is the story of that second chance at life.
Prologue
Jack Wilson lay in a bed in the intensive care unit of the local hospital. He was only fifty-eight years old, but he was old before his time. An unhealthy life style had damaged his heart beyond repair. Now his whole body was beginning to shut down. He was alone; had no visitors, no one would care if he died, there would be no mourners at his funeral. His only living relative, his sister, wanted nothing to do with him. If the truth be told, she was just as screwed up as he was.
"God, I'm sorry; I made a mess out of my life. I know we've hardly ever spoken before, please, I don't want to die like this. Please give me another chance; let me start over, I'll get it right this time. Please!"
"Hmmm, that's an interesting idea. Go there and console him. Here's what I want you to do ...."
"Who are you?" Jack asked the beautiful young woman who seemed to just appear at the foot of his bed.
"I'm an angel; God sent me here, and it's time to take you home."
As his vision began to fade, a loud buzzing noise filled his ears and two nurses ran into the room; then there was nothing.
Chapter 1
Jack slowly opened his eyes. The room where he lay was bright with sunlight. Suddenly there was a noise outside the room; a knock on a door, then another on his door;
"Jack, Anne time to get up; you don't want to be late for school."
'Where was I; when was I? That sounded like my mother! This must be a dream. It must be the drugs that they gave me. But I'm not in the hospital.'
I suddenly had the urge to pee, feeling pretty good, I sat up and without really thinking about it, got out of bed, opened the door, and walked to the bathroom. My mind was still in a fog, as I closed the door behind me, walked over to the toilet, picked up the seat, stood there and stuck my hand in my underwear to pull out my cock.
The next thing I remembered, I was on my back on the bathroom floor; my mother looking down at me, holding my hand and patting my cheek.
"Anne, are you OK?"
'Anne? I'm Jack,' I thought. Then I saw myself peering over mom's shoulder.
"Is she dead?"
"No, she just fainted. Get out of here; use the downstairs bathroom and get ready for school. Now!"
"What happened, Mom?"
"I don't know, Honey. I heard a scream and a thud; I opened the door and found you on the floor."
I had to think fast, I could figure out what was happening later, right now I had to reassure mom that I was alright.
"I remember coming in the bathroom, I had to pee. I bent over the toilet, felt light-headed and lost my balance and fell. I'm alright now. Help me up."
"You're sure you're okay, you didn't hit your head did you?"
"I'm fine Mom, and I really do have to pee."
She left the room, closing the door behind her. I stood there at the toilet, remembering why I had screamed: my cock and balls were gone; in their place was a pussy.
'I'm a girl!' I thought to myself. 'I'll bet all the angels in heaven are all high-fiving each other saying, 'Boy, that was a good one, he's still got it.'
I really had to sit down at that point. I pulled down my underwear, my panties, and put down the toilet seat and peed as a girl.
'If I'm a girl then I must have...'
I pulled the neckline of my nightshirt away from me and peeked down.
'Holy shit, I've got tits. Pretty big ones with nice sized nipples,' I thought to myself.
Now if you present a set of teenaged tits to an old man, where do you suppose his hands are going to go? I stuck both my hands up under my shirt and began to squeeze my tits. I grabbed the nipples between my fingers and began to twist. Too hard at first, but then I got the hang of it. I felt warm and tingly feelings in my pussy. Soon I felt warm all over and my heart was beating fast and then I went stiff.
When I calmed down a little, I said out loud, "Wow, what a feeling and all I did was play with my tits; imagine if I played with my pussy. Girls are sure lucky."
I took some toilet paper and wiped myself. I jumped when I accidentally hit my clit. I'd have to be more careful; my sister's body was a walking orgasm machine.
I composed myself, washed my hands and face and went to my room to get ready for school. I had to force myself not to enter Jack's room. I was Anne, now. This was going to get very interesting in a hurry. I shut my door, stood there trying to remember how she dressed back then... now... shit. I changed my panties, figured out how to put on a bra, grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt from her closet, and got dressed. I almost left the room to go downstairs, when I remembered; I have to put on makeup. Think. I sat at her vanity, looking around; I found a pencil of sorts for my eyes, a little colored powder for my cheeks, and a brush to blend it in.
"It will have to do," I said appraising myself in the mirror.
I ran out of my room, down the stairs and sat for breakfast. Mom looked at me, paused and said,
"You're using less makeup today, the fresh natural look, I like it. Hurry, eat your breakfast or you'll miss the bus."
Jack and I stood, grabbed our books and headed out the door, just as my dad came down the stairs.
"Bye, Dad" I yelled as I ran to catch up to Jack.
Chapter 2
We just got to the bus stop in time. I followed Jack onto the bus; paused and saw Anne's best friend, Joanne, sitting near the back. I walked back and took a seat next to her. She looked at me and asked,
"Why aren't you wearing your usual makeup?"
"I don't know. I just felt like I needed a change. Don't you like it?"
"It's okay, I guess, if you like the Plain Jane look; but I thought you were trying to get Todd to notice you. I'm not sure that way will work."
"You know, I really don't care anymore."
"Wow, if that's the case maybe I'll go after him."
"Be my guest."
I sat there thinking, not really paying attention to Joann's endless drivel about the guys in our class and who was going with whom, and who was breaking up. I had more immediate concerns. I had to find out what year it was. I had no clue how old I was or what grade I was in.
'Shit, I don't even know what classes I'm taking; where I have to be this morning. How am I ever going to do this?' I looked down in my lap and there staring me in the face was my answer: Algebra 1. If Anne has algebra 1, that means she's in ninth grade this year. When we were going to junior high I used to kid her all the time about the fact that I was taking algebra in eighth grade at the same time she was taking it in ninth grade. That meant she, I, was about fifteen years old. I had to find out the date to be sure; it looked like early spring, March or April. Her birthday was in April.
"Joanne, I interrupted, what's today's date?"
"April 8, I think. Why?"
"I forgot, that's all. I seem to be in a fog this morning. I can't even remember my schedule for today."
"Just like mine, homeroom, then algebra, history and science, and then lunch. Don't worry your schedule is taped to the inside of your locker."
'Shit, my locker, I don't remember the combination,' I thought. 'How am I going to get it opened?'
The bus pulled up in front of the school; it was smaller than I remembered. Joann and I went in. I followed her to her locker and watched as she opened it. I stood in front of the locker next to hers and fumbled with the lock.
"What the hell are you doing, your locker is over there."
I looked at her, red faced,
"Thanks; I told you I was out of it this morning. You don't happen to know my combination do you?"
"You really are out of it this morning," she said, opening her locker door wider and pointing to a piece of paper taped to the top of the door. "We always do this just in case of emergencies."