Now Thyself

This is the first part in a series I'm planning to write. Please send me feedback as it will help me shape the story and know if anyone is interested. Positive encouragement is always welcome.

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People always say turning thirty is a difficult time in anyone's life. I always just laughed at the idea, thinking "what's the big deal? It's just a number." Little did I know it had nothing to do with the number. And maybe, just maybe the crisis I'm facing is specific to me. It probably is. How can so many things go wrong in such a short period of time?

I was laid off from my job today. Granted, it wasn't an ideal job to begin with but it did pay the bills. I was a customer service agent for a financial firm. We handled commercial brokerage accounts and it was my job to take the calls that came in from our clients. Basically, when some idiot reads their first economics book and decides to become rich off the stock market, they open an account with us, buy some stocks and the minute they lose money they call me to complain. I can't tell you how many times in a day I have to say "the market is very volatile and you must think of your investments over the long term." I took the job thinking it was a stepping stone to higher positions within the company. Everyone thought we made it past layoffs when we got through the 2008 correction. Apparently we hadn't and the company was just burning cash. Layoffs come up and I'm one of the first people to go. Thanks for the memories Stanley Portfolios!

However, it's not just that. Here I am on my thirtieth birthday and I basically have nothing to look forward to. I don't have a girlfriend and haven't had one in a long time. I've had one night stands here and there (and when I say here and there, I mean more "there" than "here") but nothing that ever lasted more than just the night. I don't know what it is, people just find me uninteresting. I guess that's what it is. Sorry, I'm feeling very down on myself right now so you're just going to have to deal with that.

I don't have much money saved and living in New York costs a fortune! I need to find a job soon or who knows what I'll do. If I have to move back home with my parents while I'm thirty I just might kill myself.

So here's my situation; I'm now thirty, unemployed, single, broke, riddled with student loan debt, and all in all an unappealing and boring prospect of a man. Oh, and did I mention I'm celebrating my birthday alone? Not a single friend could make it out tonight. A bundle of sunshine here, right?

I stop in a liquor store because I decide I need something to drink. I normally buy Jim Beam or Wild Turkey because I don't want to spend the extra money on Jack Daniels, but screw it! It's my birthday! I contemplate the small bottle or the large bottle. The large bottle is quite expensive. Forty-two ninety-nine. I would never spend this much on a bottle of alcohol but I think the circumstances warrant it. What difference will it make? I'm broke anyway. Might as well go broke in style!

The guy at the counter could definitely tell what kind of day I was having because he gave me a brown paper bag as well as a plastic bag. He knew I was going to pre-game this bottle before I got home. Do I really look that bad? I don't even want to look. I pay in cash and he gives me my change, which includes a half-dollar coin. I haven't seen one of these since I was a kid. Who even knew they still existed?

I should head home but I just can't bring myself to do it yet. Something about walking the streets of New York drinking from a brown paper bag just feels right at this moment. I turn into Central Park and just start walking with no destination in mind. It's a warm August evening. The month is befitting. Anyone who lives here knows August in New York is the absolute worst time of the year. It's so hot! I look up and realize I've gone much further than I intended and I can hear the sounds of the Bethesda Fountain. Something about the sound of the water entices me on this hot day and I decide to make it my destination.

God, I'm already starting to feel the Jack! I get to the fountain and just stare at it. There's a bit of a mist coming off the fountain that refreshes me, so I stand there for a while. I look up at the bronze angel that's become so emblematic of the site. Stupid angel, I think.

"What have you done for me lately!" I yell out in my head. I glance to my right and see some yuppie mom and her goofy looking son staring at me. Shit, apparently I said that out loud.

"It's my birthday," I say to them, trying to make light of the situation.

"Come on sweetie," the mom says to her son as she ushers him away. Like I'm some kind of threat. What a jerk. The kid, being dragged away by the hand, looks back at me and waves as he says "happy birthday!" At least the kid has some manners.

It's at this moment I realize I really do hate myself. Everything about myself. Maybe it's just the Jack talking and maybe it's just the case of self loathing, but it's the only thing I can think of. Looking down into the fountain I can see all the bronze pennies people have thrown in the fountain. Wishes that will never come true. I stare at them and a sudden urge hits me. What the hell, I think. I look around to make sure I didn't say that out loud. I didn't, thank God.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my change. I have a couple pennies and I'm about to take one of them when I notice the silver half-dollar coin. Maybe that's why everyone's wishes never come true, they're not paying the fountain enough. If a penny is one wish, maybe a half-dollar coin is fifty all together! I think to myself (or really the Jack says to me), Ben you're a genius! I put the rest of the coins in my pocket, leaving the half-dollar coin in my hand. I stand there, the coin at the ready, trying to think of what my wish should be. What do I really want? There's the typical wishes of wanting a million dollars, beautiful women, fast cars (though who needs that in New York). Thinking about all of those things doesn't seem to give me any bit of happiness. So what do I really want? And then it comes to me.

"I wish I were a different person." I decide to say it out loud so there's no confusion between the fountain and me. I flip the coin into the fountain and watch it sink pitifully to the bottom. Another un-answered wish waiting to happen. I take a swig from my bottle and just stare at it.

I wish I were a different person.

I notice a police officer across the way looking at me. I look down at the bottle in my hand and immediately know what he's eyeing me for. Being arrested for public intoxication would fit right in with this day but I decide to spare myself the trifecta of bad birthdays. I turn and go, looking over my shoulder to make sure the cop isn't following. I breath a sigh of relief as I see he isn't. Message received officer. Take your gloom and self-pitying home.

After a long subway ride and an uneventful walk back to my Astoria studio, I collapse on my bed and stare around me as I take my glasses off and place them on the side table next to me. My walls are a reflection of my life, bare. Why haven't I ever hung up even one picture? It's the last thought I have as I drift off to sleep, dreading the next day of unemployment.

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I awake feeling a little hazy but not all that bad. I was anticipating a headache and dry mouth but had neither of those. I could've sworn I heard someone call something out to me as I woke up but it was probably just the end of whatever dream I was having. I sit up in bed and reach for my glasses but find nothing. I look at the end table next to my bed and see they're not there. They must've fallen under the table. I also see a lamp sitting there. That's weird. I've never had a lamp before. Did I buy a side lamp on the way home? My memory is fuzzy because of the Jack Daniels, so maybe in a drunken stupor I decided to buy myself my only birthday present, a side lamp.

I turn it on and lean over the side of the bed to look under the table. Something soft falls in front of my face. Not knowing what it is, I try to brush it aside but it seems stuck. Ugh! Why did I decide to drink Jack?! Nothing good ever comes from Jack! I finally get a good look under the bed and realize there are no glasses there. That's weird. Where would I have put them?

I sit up in the bed and am startled by what I see. Hanging on the wall directly across from me is a Taylor Swift poster. What the hell? Did I buy a Taylor Swift poster last night too? What did I get up to? I feel my stomach sink as I look around and realize the room is entirely different. I didn't buy a side lamp or a poster last night, I ended up in someone else's room!

"Oh shit, oh shit, where am I, where am I", is all I can think. I can tell it's a girl's room so I guess I ended up going home with someone last night. Maybe that's who was calling out to me when I woke up?

As I turn my head the same strand of something obstructs my view again. I pull it away and a jolt of pain ripples through my head. "Ow!" I cry out, not understanding what happened. I look at the strands and realize it's hair. Blond hair that goes just past my shoulders. I tug on it again and the truth is confirmed to me, the hair is attached to me. It's at that point I notice my hands. Or should I say, "someone's" hands because they certainly don't look like mine. I hold them in front of my face and see they're much smaller and the skin is much softer. I turn them over and see the nails extend just past the tips of the fingers and are painted a very light pink.

I jolt up out of bed, standing in the middle of the room looking at my hands. I then look down and that's when I suddenly begin to lose it. Just below my chin are a pair of breasts, or should I say cleavage because over the top of them is a small spaghetti strapped white top. It doesn't quite go all the way to my waist line which is significantly smaller than my normal 36''. Below that I'm wearing a pair of white underwear without pants revealing two skinny and hairless legs.

I start to feel light headed. I must be dreaming. Obviously this is a dream. A weird and confusing dream. Turning around I see a dresser with a mirror. Staring back at me from the mirror is a face I've never seen before. A girl, a young girl. A small round face with high cheek bones and blue eyes staring back at me.

"What the hell..." As I say it I notice the lips in the mirror move with my words. All I can do is stare in the mirror for what seems like forever. My whole body is much smaller. I look to be about 5'6'' and can't be more than 105lbs. My breathing picks up and a panic attack sets in.

Suddenly the door opens and a middle aged woman is standing in the doorway, looking at me with a look of agitation.

"Breakfast. Is. Ready. How many times do I have to call you? And for God sakes, put some clothes on."

She closes the door behind me and I can hear her walking away. I look in the mirror again and the same female face stares back at me.

"What the hell is going on?" I say to myself.

On the floor next to the dresser is a pair of pink pajama pants with cats on them. I pick them up and hold them in front of me. The waist is so small, there's no way I could ever fit in that. I try to put them on anyway and to my surprise they slip right on. I hesitantly open the door and peek out.

I'm in an apartment. There are three other doors to the right of me. Two of them open into bedrooms and the third a bathroom. To my left the hallway leads to a living room and a kitchen and from what I can hear, multiple voices. I walk down the hallway and into the opening to find three people sitting at a table having breakfast. The same middle aged woman who was just in my room, a middle aged man, and a boy who looks to be in his twenties.

The middle aged man looks up and smiles. "There she is! Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence. Sit down." He pats the chair next to him. I walk over and take my seat. The middle aged woman puts some eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a piece of toast on my plate. I notice a pitcher of coffee on the table, so reach for it and start pouring myself a cup.

The boy snickers at me and says, "When did you start drinking coffee?"

"What?"

"Thought you hated that stuff."

"Why would I hate coffee?" My voice is weak and shaky and the boy gives me a weird look.

The middle-aged woman looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Are you still going out tonight? You mentioned something about it yesterday."

I shrug. "I...I don't know. Maybe."

The middle-aged man buts in. "Better get all that partying out now because when you start college in three weeks, there will be none of that." He has a condescending smile on his face.

"Yeah. I don't know," is all I can think of to say.

"Everyone parties in college, dad." The boy chimes in, almost a challenge to the middle-aged man.

"How would you know? You never went."

It's obvious the comment hurt the boy's feelings but he tries not to show it. "I still go to college parties."

Suddenly the situation becomes clear to me and I don't understand why it took me so long to catch on. The middle-aged man and woman are my parents and the boy is my brother. Well, not my parents and brother, this girl's parents and brother. Or my parents and brother? I don't really know. I guess they're mine since this is me, but this can't be me. My mind starts going in circles and I start to feel a little queasy. The middle-aged woman, I mean my mom, picks up on it immediately.

"Are you okay, sweetie? You're acting really strange."

"I'm just not hungry. I'm sorry." I stand up from the table and try to get away. That's when everyone starts to look concerned. All three of them start saying things to me I don't really hear. I continue to apologize all the way back to my bedroom and close the door, locking it behind me.

What the hell is going on?! I start to become conscious of my breathing and take deep breaths in and out slowly so I don't start having a panic attack again. What I need to do is find out some information. On the dresser is a purse and I realize that's the most obvious place to start. I pull out a wallet and see an driver's license. On inspection I notice it's actually not a driver's license at all but instead one of those ID's issued from the DMV. My name is Ashley Montgomery. There I am in the picture, or not me but this girl. Looking at the date of birth I find out my birthday is March 29th and I'm eighteen years old. Well I guess that makes sense if I'm starting college in three weeks. I realize that's something I'm going to have to do a little more research into as well and file that away in my head under "For Later".

I put the ID back and rifle through the bag some more. I find an iPhone and realize that's the next best place to look. I swipe across the screen and it asks for a passcode. Shit, how am I supposed to know?! A thought occurs to me and I put my thumb on the bottom button. Of course, yet the result unnerves me even more. The phone unlocks immediately from my finger print.

So where to start? On the home screen I see the Facebook logo and realize what better place. It opens up to my feed and I quickly go to my profile page. There she is in the picture. Ashley Montgomery. I don't have a job listed, thank God for that. Relationship status: single. Double thank God for that! There are some posts on my wall from various people but none of them make sense to me. I decide to search for myself, my real self. Ben Telaney. I have an open profile, so anyone can search for me. Nothing comes up. That's weird, why don't I have a profile? I search again and find nothing once again. My mom has a public profile. (My real mom that is). I search for her and she comes up at once. I go to her friends list and search for "Ben" but it comes up with zero results. I look at her profile and think something seems off. What is it? Finally it hits me. Her location is listed as Baltimore, MD. That's where she grew up but she can't be living there now. She hates it there. Then my stomach sinks for the second time today. Her relationship status is listed as single.

What the hell is going on?!

I search for my dad's page and find the same thing. Single. However he's listed as living in New York. For some reason, the next thing that pops into my head is the wish I made the previous night. "I wish I were a different person." It can't possibly be. It's impossible. But what other explanation in there? It actually happened! I'm someone new. Ben Telaney never existed. From the looks of it, my parents never met. If my mom never left her hometown she must've never met my dad. I know they both met here in New York. So now I'm this person, Ashley Montgomery. I'm no longer thirty year old Ben Telaney, recently unemployed but instead Ashley Montgomery, eighteen years old and about to start college.

I can't tell what to feel right now. Is this good? Is it bad? I look in the mirror and stare at my face. I am attractive, I realize. Very attractive if I'm being honest. My whole body feels different as well. I suddenly get the impulse to take my shirt off, so I do, revealing my bare breasts. They're perfect. The kind of breasts Ben Telaney would dream about. However, Ben Telaney would dream about holding them and licking them, but instead I now

have

them. The weirdest part is that even though I am a new person, this Ashley Montgomery, I am still thinking like my old self, Ben Telaney. I instinctively touch my breasts, cupping them with my hands. My nipples are much larger now as Ashley than when I was Ben. I touch them with my index fingers and feel a flutter in my body. They're sensitive! My nipples never used to be sensitive before. This new feeling is both exciting and strange at the same time. I look down and decide to take my panties off as well, now fully naked in front of the mirror. It's unbelievable how smooth my whole body is. Not a single strand of hair anywhere but the top of my head. Even my armpits are smooth as well as between my legs. I look down at my vagina refusing to touch it. Something feels wrong. I can't violate this poor girl. But then again,

I am

this poor girl. It's not possible to violate yourself, right? I cup my hand around the outside of my vagina. The move instinctively makes me take a deep breath in. The feeling is both foreign and familiar at the same time. My fingers begin to move ever so slightly. I insert just the tip of my index finger into the crevice of my opening. A slight moan escapes me. I suddenly start to feel warm all over. The whole opening becomes wet and I suddenly want more. I insert more of my finer inside me and push it up, rubbing the top of my wet hole. Without thinking, my other hand goes for my breast and starts to rub my nipple. The whole experience begins to take over me. My stomach muscles tighten and my breathing becomes erratic.

I suddenly stop. I can't do this. It's just too weird right now.

I'm putting my finger inside of me?

That's just too much to take right now. I decide I need to go outside. I need to walk around and clear my head. I open the closet to reveal a bunch of girl's clothes. Why am I surprised? I shouldn't be but I'm still thinking like Ben. How can I go outside dressed like a girl? I look down at my naked body and realize I have to. I go to the dresser and open the top drawer. Just as I thought, that's where all the underwear is. I take out a pair of black panties. There's barely anything to them. Do these even count as underwear? I slide them on not realizing they're thong underwear. The piece of fabric in the back inserts itself into my butt and at first it feels weird. I've never worn a thong before. I then pull out a black bra. I buckle it in front of me and then slide it around and put my arms through the straps. I adjust it to cup my new breasts and look in the mirror once again.