Losing Myself
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2009 by StephanieB

After leaving the hospital I thought we would be heading straight home, but Mom apparently had other ideas. We drove to one of the large malls near home and headed straight for the department store on the end. I'm not even sure which one it was as I was sort of on autopilot, letting Mom just lead the way. She didn't slow down until we where in the middle of the Women's Clothing section and she immediately started pulling out items and handed me a few things.

She then stared at me for a few seconds before saying, "Go ... go try them on." It wasn't until then that I even looked at what she had handed me. I instantly blushed at the bra and panties that I was holding in my hand.

"Mom!" I said while trying not to attract too much attention. "Do we need to do this now?"

"I need to calm down," was her reply. "And this is the best way for me to do that."

That made absolutely no sense to me, but I knew better than arguing with her when she was in a mood. I just went in search of the change rooms and reminded myself to look for the women's change room and not the men's. A woman who looked to be in her early thirties wearing a shirt with the store name on it was standing outside the change rooms and asked how many items I wanted to try on. I wanted to say none, but told her how many things I had in my hand instead.

I stepped into the change room and checked twice that the door was locked behind me. Then I opened the package of panties and took out a thin white pair. I looked at them for a second and thought, "This is one part of being a girl I didn't think about." I slipped my shorts off and pulled the panties up my long legs and over my hips.

"Wow, I can get use to this feeling," I thought with a smile. Now I needed to take care of the top half. I opened the box that contained the simple white bra and stared. After a minute or two I thought I had it figured out and tried to pull my tee shirt off over my head by grabbing the collar behind my neck and pulling up. The front of it bunched up under my boobs and wouldn't budge. "Well that won't work anymore," I thought to myself. I then grabbed the bottom of the shirt with both hands and pulled it over my head, turning it inside out in the process. The bra was simple to put on, closing the hooks in the back was impossible. After three failed attempts at bending my arms that way I gave up. I turned it around to see how the hooks worked and closed them with it around my waist. Instead of taking it off again I turned it the right way around, pulled it up and put my arms through the straps. After fixing the twisted band and straps it was on, but there must be an easier way.

I put my shorts and tee shirt back on and opened the door to the change room and looked for Mom. She was talking to the woman in front of the change room and noticed me poking my head out the door. "Ah, how does that fit," she asked and started to walk closer.

"It's a bit tight," I answered but didn't step any further out of the change room. Mom pushed to the door wide open as she got near and looked directly at my chest.

"Where's it tight, the cups or the band?"

"I don't know." Well I didn't, it's not like I'd ever worn a bra before. I had no idea how they where suppose to fit. If I took any clues from my Mom, I would have to suspect that they where always tight and uncomfortable. She reached up under my shirt and pulled at the band on the side, under my arm.

"It's the band that's too tight, the cups size looks okay. I'll get you the next size up for you to try," and she was off again into the vast unknown of women's apparel. I went back into the change room to take off the one I was wearing. I had just wrestled my way out of the bra when Mom was back with another one for me to try. A hand with another bra in a box appeared through the door. I grabbed it and closed the door again, making sure it was locked this time. This one was much more comfortable and didn't pinch anywhere.

"This one's fine," I said through the door. "It fits." Of course she didn't take my word for it and had me open up again for inspection.

"It'll do," was the high praise I got from Mom and she was gone again.

I slipped the sandals on again, grabbed the open package of panties and stepped out of the change room and almost walked into the sales woman standing there.

"How was everything dear?" she asked. "Did you find what you where looking for?"

"Yes, thanks." I said quickly and started looking for Mom.

"Will you be taking those?" she said indicating the panties and empty box I had in my hand.

I looked at them and said, "Yeah, I'm wearing one of them and the bra. Is that okay?"

"That's fine dear. Just give the cashier the open packages to scan when you go to pay." A look of understanding came over her face and she asked, "How long have you been a girl now?"

"I woke up this morning like this," I answered not really wanting to have this discussion in the middle of a department store.

"And you're out all ready, good for you."

Mom came up with two more bras and my heart sank. I didn't want to do that again, but she just said, "Let's go Cameron."

As we walked towards the cashier, I asked "What are those ones for?"

"You need more that just one bra silly." Of course, I should have known. What with all my experience at being a girl for half a day! So my new wardrobe started with three bras and half dozen panties.

After we paid for the items at the cashier, I turned to my Mom and said "I'll need more than just underwear. I don't even have a pair of shoes that fit."

"I know," Mom replied. "But this place is too expensive for that sort of thing. We'll go to another store for the other stuff."

The next stop was the discount shoe store in the mall. I looked at all the different styles and colors in the store. After shopping for underwear, I felt that I should be able to handle this easily. We didn't spend a lot of time looking at shoes and ended up only getting a pair of running shoes and a pair of black slip on shoes. After the shoe store we left the mall and headed back to the car. I was getting really hungry and I realized that I hadn't eaten anything all day long. It was getting late in the afternoon and I'm sure Mom was getting hungry too.

"Can we get something to eat?" I asked after we both got into the car.

"One more stop and then we can head home for dinner, okay?"

"Okay Mom," I answered a bit disappointed. I sat and wonder what I would be able to do for clothes until we pulled into the parking lot of one of the thrift stores in our neighborhood. We seemed to do a lot of shopping in these places and I was always getting picked on for the clothes that I wore when not in school. But I understood the need to save our money and didn't complain.

"Are you sure we can afford all this stuff, Mom?" We hadn't bought too much but I was getting concerned with how much money it had come to all ready.

"We'll manage," she said. "You won't be able to buy lunch at school and we can't have dinner out for a while." No lining up at lunch for vending machine food? I'll just have to suffer through I guess.

"That's okay Mom," I explained. "I really don't like the food in the vending machines anyway." We got out of the car and entered the store as I silently told my stomach to shut up! The store had tons of clothes for both girls and boys of all ages, but mainly for young kids. The selection for me was a bit limited, but I found a bunch of tee shirts that looked clean enough. I'd need to run them through the laundry before I would wear them, but they would do. I found a pair of jeans that I wanted to try on and headed over to the change rooms. Mom was off in another section but saw where I was heading and nodded. The jeans fit well enough to buy and I saw Mom was already at the cashier. She already had one bag of clothes and the cashier was adding up the last few items when I got there.

"Do we have enough for these too?" I asked holding up the jeans I'd tried on.

"Let's see what it comes to, okay?"

"Okay." I held the jeans in my hand while the other items were scanned and bagged.

When Mom saw the total she turned to me and said, "Go ahead, get them too."

"Thanks Mom," I said and smiled for the first time in several hours. I don't know why the jeans were so important to me, but I just felt that I needed them. I guess it's because they're all I ever really wore outside of school and not having any now was something that I wasn't ready to deal with yet. We took the two bags of clothes out to the car and headed home. Once there I headed straight to my room to put the few things away. That's when I saw the gray kilt and white blouse that was the girls school uniform. That got me thinking about school. I grabbed the new jeans and tee shirts we bought as well as some of the other dirty clothes to make a load of laundry. After it was loaded and started I went back to the kitchen to help Mom with dinner. As we sat down to dinner I thought about school again.

"Mom, what are we going to do about school?" Without a letter from the doctor proving my identity it's not like they would just let me show up to all my classes.

"We'll have to go in Monday morning and talk to someone in the office. They should be able to help out somehow." Mom's faith in the staff at my school was definitely higher than mine. After dinner I headed up to my room to unwind after the stressful day. I sat on my bed, grabbed my tablet and logged in the net again. Talking to my friends always helped before, and I really needed it today.

After a few hours of online chatting with all my friends I decided it was time to head to bed. It had been a long day and I was feeling really tired, so I said goodbye to everyone and logged off. As I got ready for bed I realized that my usual sleep shorts wouldn't be enough to sleep in. I grabbed an old tee short and just left my panties on and climbed into bed. I was asleep in minutes. Unfortunately my sleep was disturbed by a strange dream that seems all too real.


It starts off with me sitting in front of a vanity mirror wearing only a matching white lace bra and panty set as I expertly applied my make up. This continues until I look just like the girl that I had knocked over in the street yesterday. Once done I brush and tease my hair until it's standing almost straight up. I then walk over to the closet filled with clothing and pick out a white denim mini skirt and white vest and put them. I turn to the full length mirror and took a long look at myself. I look ... hot! Actually I look too hot and was thinking it was a bit sluttish. I look like a hooker from a bad movie.


This startled me a bit and woke me up. It took me a minute to calm down and realize it was a dream, it seemed so real. I went to the washroom, got some water and climbed back into bed to try again. As soon as I fell asleep the dream continued right where it left off.


I'm standing on 'my corner' talking to the other girls and striking poses for the passing cars in hopes of scoring big. A huge car rolls up to the curb and stops. This guy has money! The car isn't one of the thousands of electric cars on the roads, its burning hydrogen. Not too many people could afford that kind of luxury. The passenger window rolls down and I look in to see my target. He looks nice and is well dressed. I could pawn the ring on his right hand and be able to pay rent for the month, maybe two.

"Looking for a date?" I say to the man driving the car. This was really looking like a bad late night movie.

"How much for the night, babe?" is his answer. Direct and to the point, just the way I like it. I think of the expensive ring, car, watch and suit he's wearing and immediately double my price.

"Two thousand for the night," and he doesn't even blink and starts counting hundred dollar bills from a large roll. When he gets to twenty he hands them to me, but I just step out of the way. The largest 'person' I have ever seen in my life moves up to the car. The guy is easily eight feet tall and looks like a grizzly bear. He puts one paw on the roof of the car and it groans from the weight. Shoving his other paw into the window he takes the money and starts to count it. The grizzly looks at me and roars, then walks back to the ally.

As I get into the car he finally starts talking again, "Holly shit! What the hell was that?" my John is clearly shocked by the grizzly.

"You don't wan' a know," I warn him. "Just drive." He puts the car in gear and squeals the tires trying to get out of there as fast as possible. "Calm down, he's not gonna follow us."

"What was that thing?" He's lucky Ben couldn't hear him.

"Ben? He's my boss and you really don't want to call him a THING." I calm down myself as we drive further away from 'my corner' and Ben. I reach over and place a hand on his thigh and smile. "So, what do you want to start with first?"

"Don't you worry about that," he says with an odd grin. "I have plans."

Now that I'm more relaxed I take a good look at 'John'. He's kind of cute and looks like he's in his mid thirties with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. Even in the expensive Italian suit I can see that he works out and has a nice body. This could be fun after all. I continue to check the guy out and I'm not really watching were we're driving to. The car slows down and then stops and I look around. We've stopped in a parking lot of what looks like one of the city parks. It's quite dark and secluded and I get curious.

"Why did you stop here?" I ask in a friendly tone. I don't want him to get angry. "We have all night and I thought you would rather be somewhere comfortable."

"I like to relive my high school days," he says. "You know, when I'd make out in the car with a gorgeous girl."

I blush at that. I know I'm not gorgeous but I do know how to 'make out'. I turn and practically crawl over to the guy and start to kiss him. After several minutes of heavy kissing and a little groping I stop and ask, "You mean like that?"

"Yeah," he says in a dreamy voice. "Exactly like that."

I sit back into my seat and start to unbutton my vest while looking into his blue eyes. When all the buttons are open I start to play with the edge of the vest, pretending to be a shy little school girl and he takes the bait. He moves closer to me and starts kissing again, his hands are all over me and I let him. As we continue to kiss his left hand starts to massage my stomach and quickly moves up to my right breast. This guy is good, just the right amount of pressure and not pinching too much. All too soon his hand continues up and he holds my neck as we kiss some more. The hand on my neck starts to get a little rough and feels wrong. I open my eyes, which I didn't realize I had closed, to see him staring into my eyes. His hand continues to get tighter and I'm starting to have trouble breathing. I try to push his hand away but it gets tighter. I try to bite his tongue, but that doesn't even work. I can feel myself start to panic.


I woke up again in a cold sweat, breathing hard. I was back in my bedroom in a tee shirt and panties, shaking. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen and started to make some coffee. I really didn't want to go back to bed if that dream was going to continue. After the coffee was ready I head into the living room and turned on a video news feed. I wasn't interested in the news I just needed something to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn't fall asleep again.

I woke up again when the sun was up and shining through the living room window. The news feed was still playing and my coffee was only half gone. I was just thankful that I didn't dream anymore while I was sleeping. Mom was just coming down the stairs and she noticed me lying on the couch.

"You're up early," she said as she headed for the kitchen and the coffee.

"I couldn't sleep," I explained. "I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it, Sweetie?" That was the first time Mom had ever called me Sweetie. That was something new.

"No it's okay," I hoped she would drop it. "It was just a dream. No problem," I lied but there was no reason the get her scared. It's not like she could do anything about my dreams.

"So what have you got planned for today," Mom asked as she poured a cup of coffee. She took a sip and wrinkled her nose at it. It must have gone cold by now.

"Sorry I made that last night." She just poured the whole pot out and started to make another.

"So?" she prodded. I got the impression she didn't want me sitting around the house all day. Some things never change I guess.

"I was going to go over to Bill's house and see what I missed last week," I stated like this was my original plan. If she wanted me out for a while, I might as well go have some fun. Bill had just gotten a new 3D game console with some cool shooter games. He had been asking me to come over so he could kick my butt in the games.

After a quick breakfast and a few more cups of coffee I headed upstairs to get dressed and head out. I went to the bathroom first to brush my teeth, wash and do something with my hair. I cursed every knot and tangle, and vowed to get it cut as soon as possible. Once it was tamed, I went to get dressed. At least the decision on what to wear was easy, jeans and a tee shirt after I wrestled my way into the bra. I need to ask Mom if there is an easy way to put one of these things on.

As I hit the bottom of the stairs and open the front door Mom says, "Call me when you get to Bill's house."

"Why?" I'd never done that before. Why would she ask me to do it today?

"Just to make sure you get there okay," she explained. "It's not the same for a young woman to be walking alone."

"Mom, don't be silly," I was shocked. I never knew my own Mom had such sexist thoughts. I just dashed out the door and closed it behind me before she could say anything else. Next she'd want me to go to washroom with her when we were in public.

Bill's house was only a few blocks away and we didn't live in a bad part of the city. It wasn't really nice, but people left you alone most of the time. I'd also learned how to avoid the people that liked to cause me trouble, so I didn't worry about walking. On my way I realized that Bill and his parents hadn't seen me since I changed. This was going to be fun. As I got closer to the house I could see Bill's dad sitting at a table in the front window with a coffee and reading the paper.

I started to take bigger steps and swing my hips more and this did exactly what I thought it would do, put more 'bounce' in my walk and show off all my curves. I walked straight up to the front door and knocked. The puzzled look on Mr. Smyth's face as he opened the door was priceless. He'd told me to call him Nick for years, but I've never been comfortable with that. It was like calling a teacher by their first name.

"Does Billy live here?" I asked in my best attempt at a cutesy voice.

The look of utter confusion on his face almost made me burst out laughing. I'm sure that Bill's dad thought he was a virgin simply because he never dated. Not that he didn't want to, it's just the being a bit of a geek like me we just didn't attract girls like the guys on the football team did. Mr. Smyth finally snapped out of his confusion long enough the yell up the stairs.

"Bill," he yelled while still holding the door. "You have a visitor." I waited with a stupid grin on my face and batted my eyes at Bill's dad. I just hopped that I could last. Bill came down the stairs two at a time, still wearing his sleep shorts and a tee shirt that he likely just pulled on. As soon as he got to the door I jumped him.

"Billy," I squealed as I wrapped my arms around him. "I missed you. Why didn't you call me?"

"I ... uh... ," was all he could say. I continued to hold myself against Bill until I could feel the result I was looking for. Then I let go, backed up a step and looked at his shorts.

"Are you thinking naughty thoughts about me again?" indicate the start of a bulge on him. POP, Bill was gone. I couldn't hold it in anymore and start laughing. Mr. Smyth looked at me and he didn't seem happy.

"I'm sorry Mr. Smyth," I started to explain after I stop laughing a little. "It's me, Cameron. I was just having some fun with Bill."

"Cameron?" he asks. "Is that really you? You ... look different."

I just laughed again. "Yeah ain't MORFS great?" I asked as a posed for him and started laughing harder.

"You seem to be ... adjusting well," he stated but I could tell it was a question.

"Well," I started. "I figured I might as well make the best of it." I didn't feel like explaining that I was starting to really like my new appearance and that I didn't want to get back to the old me.

"Cameron! That was not funny!" Bill yelled as he came down the stairs. He had quickly dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, the official teen uniform. At least it was when not in school.

"Oh yes it was," his dad said and I just laughed again. The phone rang and Mr. Smyth went to the other room to get it.

I smiled to Bill and said, "Sorry but I needed that. I had a rough night."

"What do you mean?"

Before I could answer Bill, his dad came out with the phone and handed it to me. "It's for you. It's your Mom."

"Sorry Mom. I was just about to call you. I..." I said. I knew she wanted me to call and figure she was just getting impatient.

"You need to turn on the news," she interrupted. Her tone was odd and I couldn't figure out why she sounded scared.

"Okay," I replied. I turned to Bill's dad I asked, "Do you mind if I turn on the local news feed?"

"Sure, it's in the living room." Of course it was I'd been here about a thousand times and I didn't think that they had moved it in the last week. I see I needed to prove to them who I was after all. We all entered the living room and Bill's dad turned on the 24 hour new channel. The anchor man was in the middle of a story.

" ... again. Police are asking for any information on the identity of a partially clothed woman found strangled to death this morning in a wooded area of Fisher Park." The image then changed to a picture of young woman's face with bruises around her neck. I dropped the phone. I was looking at the screen, but I might as well have been looking into a mirror. The woman's face was identical to mine with the exception of the bruises and smeared make up. "Although the police are not commenting on the circumstances of the woman's death, sources say that she is now the fourth victim of the Cadillac Killer."

The Cadillac Killer was the name that the media had given a serial murderer that had been terrorizing the downtown area. They got the name from reports that the killer was seen picking up victims in a big black Cadillac. All the victims, at least so far, had been young Hispanic prostitutes and were always found strangled to death and left in one of the many parks around the city. The details of the murders were never reported. The police even seemed to go out of their way to not indicate if they suspected the murderer was male or female.

Both Bill and his dad looked at me then looked back at the screen. The confusion was clearly visible on both of their faces. I was secretly betting which one would be able to talk first. Bill's dad won the race, but not by much.

"I don't understand," he said

"Why does she look like you?" was Bill question a fraction of a second later.

"It's the other way around," I tried to explain as I picked up the phone again.

"Are you okay Cameron," the concern on my mother's voice was almost at a panic level.

"Yeah I just dropped the phone," I keep my voice calm to try to reassure my Mom that I was fine. "Can you come and get me. I think you need to take me to the police station." That didn't help her calm down, but I felt I needed to talk to them about my dream.

"I'll be right over," she barely got out before hanging up.

In the time I had until Mom got to the Smyth's house, I tried to explain as much as I could to Bill and his dad. I explained how I woke up on Friday with no changes from MORFS and then the trip to the downtown clinic. I told them about the girl that I walked into and knocked to the ground and the blood that I got on my hand when helping her to her feet. I finally get to the part about waking up yesterday looking like her and then the useless trip to the hospital and the disbelieve they had about me even being a MORFS survivor. The door bell saved me from having to retell the story of my bad dream last night.

Bill's dad opened the door and said to my Mom, "Hi Rachel. Come in."

"Thanks Nick, where's Cameron?"

"He's ... she's in the living room," I caught the slip and smiled but didn't say anything. That would be for a different time. I just ran up to my Mom and threw my arms around her in a big hug and started to cry.

"Does this have anything to do with your bad dream last night?" she asked as I buried my face into her shoulder.

"How did you know?" was all I could get out. I couldn't believe that she had figured it out so fast. She just gave me a crooked smile and patted my head.

"Would you like a ride to the police station?" Mr. Smyth asked my Mom.

"No that's okay," she said. "I wouldn't want you to be stuck there if they have a lot of questions."

I walked out to the car in a daze. This was starting to get to be a habit and not one that I like one bit. Mom was a few seconds behind me after saying a few more words to Bill and his dad. I was in the car and couldn't hear and only guessed that she was saying something about calling when she knew more. Once in the car and on the way to the downtown police station Mom tried to get me to talk.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Not yet," I stalled. I didn't want to relive the nightmare more times then I had to. The drive was very quiet and somewhat awkward, but we got there soon enough. As we entered the building I could feel every one stop and stare at me. There were a lot of whispered comments and the receptionist desk seemed like a mile long hike.

"Can I help..." she started to say and stopped. Then she said something that made no sense at the time. "I'm sorry about your sister. Come with me." I have no sister, or a brother for that matter. What was she talking about? Mom and I followed the young woman and entered one of the rooms with a few chairs and a table. The mirror on the wall immediately made me think of every cop show I had ever seen and assumed that there would be several people behind the glass with video equipment. We sat there for only a few minutes before the door opened and a man came in and sat at the table across from us.

He looked directly at me and said, "I'm detective A.J. Walsh. I'm sorry you had to find out about your sister this way, but we have no records of Tracy Williams having a twin sister." I looked at my Mom and we both laughed for a second. "Did I say something funny?" the detective said, clearly annoyed.

Mom was the first to answer, "Sorry detective, I'm Rachel McMichael and this is my daughter Cameron." She called me her daughter. It was a really strange feeling and I just wanted to hug her, but it would have to wait.

Something the detective said made me think. "I thought the news said you were looking for the person's identity?"

"Yeah, that's a technique that we use sometimes," he explained. "People are usually more willing to talk to the police about a person, instead of the crime. So, how did you know Tracy?"

"We didn't," Mom said to the detective.

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