Transplanted Life
Sunday, October 26, 2003
Well, here goes nothing
I sent Natalya the email. I said that "Martin" wasn't to be trusted, that he was pretending to be someone he wasn't, and that if she talked to any of his old friends or family, they wouldn't recognize him from the way he acted. It came off sounding like some lame soap opera evil twin plot, but there it was. I didn't tell her about the more fantastic elements of the story, or who I really was, because that would just make her discount what I said as something loony and delusional.

So, time to get used to looking over my shoulder, wondering if I'm now The Girl Who Knew Too Much. Or if looking over my shoulder is even necessary; maybe whatever Michelle used to switch our minds left some hardware in the brains that could just zap me with fifty million volts or something. Or maybe just allow someone else to temporarily take over my mind and walk me into traffic. Or just render me extremely suggestible so that I would jump in front of a train of my own apparent free will. Or just "reformat" the brain like a hard drive, allowing someone else to take control of this body.

There are a whole heck of a lot of possible ways of eliminating you if they can get inside your head.

What's really scary, though - I'm looking at the bottom panel of this screen, and I can see the third paragraph of the last entry - "And if Martin finds out..." No quotation marks around Martin or anything. Am I already thinking of my body as belonging to someone else, and that they're entitled to my name? That's just... I mean, I worried when Kurt and I broke up that I might lose my grip on what my real life is, but so soon? How do I keep myself from sliding further away from who I am?

Comments: Post a Comment

Powered by Blogger

Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at