Extracted - Chapter 6 – Welcome To My World

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 6 – Welcome To My World

 

Nancy, in Steve’s body, remembered what she had seen for the first time just a few hours ago, and shuddered.  It was so gross.  It was so disgusting!  It was so…awful!  But it had also seemed so real.  What was she supposed to do about it?  And worse, it seemed to go along with every horrible thing that her pretty body had become.  She knew what the boys called it.  They whispered about it at school all the time.  The girls though whispered the word even more.  Cock.  Penis.  There were other words for it too.  Words she’d rather not think about.  Somehow, that banned word.  That banned…thing!  Was now a part of her.  She had one.  Somehow.  Ugh!  She wanted to scream!

Those weird people were in her room again, the ones who somehow believed they were her mother and father, even though she knew for a fact that they weren’t.  Did it have something to do with this stupid monster body she seemed to suddenly have?  That’s the only conclusion she could think of.  Did God hate her so much that he stretched his hand out and somehow gave her this ugly stupid body?  She didn’t know, but it seemed like it.

Like it or not, she wasn’t being given a choice in the matter.  The hospital was throwing her out and she was told that she had to go home with these…strangers.  It was like she was being kidnapped…again!  Mommy, Daddy, Emily, where are you?  I miss you!

Once again she dragged her stupid monstrosity of a body out from under the covers and hung her huge hairy legs over the side of the bed.  Just the sight of them made her want to barf.  Her huge legs were so long they reached all the way to the floor.  Her father handed her some underwear.  She stood up on those monster legs and stepped into the, um, boxer shorts he had called them.  Stupid.  She pulled them up under her hospital gown, especially covering her…did guys usually call it a penis or a cock?  What was she supposed to call it?  From here on out, maybe she’d just call it Gross!

Covered that much, one by one, she put on the clothes she was given.  White gym socks, a pullover shirt, jeans, and then she was handed a pair of sneakers.  She sat on the bed and stared at them.  They were so big they looked like clown shoes.  Every piece of clothing she was wearing was huge.  Too big.  Too…stupid.  She felt stupid.  She felt ugly.  She was ugly.  She was…cursed.  God hated her too much.

Once the shoes were on and tied, she stood up.

“Okay,” her father said.  “Let’s go.”

A nurse held a wheelchair for her and she sat in it.  Together, the entire fake family made their way through the maze of hallways in the hospital, and she was finally let out of the chair when they got to the parking lot.  Henry…her father…ran to get the car.  A few minutes later, they were all in it and heading…home.

Where in the world was home?  She already knew they weren’t going back to New York where she belonged.  As far as she knew, they were in Pennsylvania somewhere.  Someplace called Philadelphia.  She had certainly heard of Philadelphia.  She had just never been there.  From what little she could already see, so far, it was just another dirty city.  Nothing magical about it at all.  But then somehow magic had ripped her from her pretty little feminine body and stuck her here in this stupid ogre’s body instead.  Magic for sure.

Everybody kept calling her Steve, even when she had told them countless times that her name was Nancy.  She supposed she could understand that, sort of.  She certainly didn’t look like herself anymore.

She knew the car she was riding in was nice.  In fact, it was kind of like her father’s car.  Her real father’s car.  But her father was a really important man.  A U.S. congressman.  She didn’t know what this guy who was pretending to be her father did for a living, but it couldn’t be anywhere near as important as that.  Maybe his job was to pretend to be a fake father to people.  People like her.

There were too many things for her to remember during the long drive, but when her father pulled into the driveway of a house, she suddenly paid more attention.  From the back seat, she looked at the place carefully.  Nice.  That surprised her.  Not as nice as her real house in New York, but still pretty nice.  At least it wasn’t a dump like she expected…so far.

She got a brief glimpse of another car parked on the far side of the driveway before everything grew dark as her father pulled the car into the garage and the garage lights all came on.  As the garage door came down, everyone opened their car doors and got out, so she did too.  She saw another nice car parked next to this one.  A third car in the family.

She had no luggage, nothing to carry.  His mother held a plastic bag containing the pajamas she…this body…had been wearing the night she…or he…had been abducted.  Not knowing where to go, she followed everyone through a door that led into a small room of some sort where coats were hung and boots were lined up on the floor.  From there it all led into a kitchen.  A really nice kitchen.  Big!  Like the one her family had at home.  Her mother and father both seemed to be heading in different directions.  Not knowing where to go or what to do, she wandered.

The kitchen and family room were all one.  Huge.  Her father had gone through a doorway off of the family room.  She headed cautiously in that direction and saw him sitting down at a desk in a really nice home office.  He was back at work already.  She stopped to watch him for a minute until she saw him look up at her…him.

“Anything you need?” he asked.

Nancy shrugged, then looked around.  “I’m…lost,” she explained.  She noticed the look of annoyance that seemed to cross his face.  Before he could say anything else, she asked, “What do you do?”

“What?” he replied angrily.  “You know perfectly well what I do.”

She shook her head.  “I haven’t a clue,” she replied before starting to walk off.  She didn’t need more confrontation.  She was only twelve and was completely confused by her situation.

“Steve!” Henry called.

Like it or not, she walked back to his office door.  She would have said ‘yes Daddy’ but she refused to call that man her father in any way, shape, or form.  Instead, she just stood there, looking at him.

“Tell me about who you think your father is,” he said, his voice only a bit more moderated.

“He’s U.S. Congressman Michael Stiller.”

“A U.S. congressman,” Henry repeated with distaste.  “From what state?”

“New York of course,” she replied angrily.  “That’s where we live.  I’ve never been to…Philadelphia.  I don’t know anything about it.”

“Well in case you need reminding, which it looks like you do, I’m the Philadelphia D.A.”

“What’s a…D. A.?” she asked nastily.  “Never heard of it.”

“District Attorney!” he yelled in return.  “And you better start remembering that!”

She shook her head.  “I have no idea what that is!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know!” she yelled back.  With that she started crying and ran off.

Henry was totally surprised.  He got up from his desk and went out to follow his son.  He found him leaning against the wall next to one of the windows at the far end of the room, standing there hugging himself like a child and crying.  It was only then that he remembered that his son Steve seemed to have no memory of anything at all, except the fantasies that were somehow running rampant through his brain.

Softly, Henry said, “Sorry.”  He saw Steve look over at him.  Despite the bit of beard stubble, his son’s face looked more like a child than he could ever imagine as he stood there crying.  Henry sat on the arm of a chair and watched him for a moment in wonder.  Parents always say their kids grow up too fast.  He knew that for a fact now.  Yet here his son was, looking like…he didn’t know what.  Just…a child of some sort.  He sighed.  “A District Attorney processes all the criminal cases for an area.  I’m the head guy.  The man in charge of all that prosecuting for the entire area around Philadelphia.”  A thought occurred to him when Steve just kept looking at him.  “Do you know what prosecuting means?”

“No,” Nancy replied.

“When someone does something criminal…  Do you follow me so far?”  He saw Steve nod his head.  “Then they have to be punished.  They have to go through court battles.  I’m in charge of deciding which cases go into court and I’m responsible for making sure that the criminals are punished the way they need to be.  Do you understand that?”  It was a moment before he saw his son nod.

“I think so,” Nancy told him.  “Thanks.”

“As you can see, it’s an important job.

Nancy shrugged.  “Not like my real father.  A U.S. congressman.”

This time it was Henry’s turn to shrug.  “Maybe, maybe not.  I imagine, that both jobs are pretty important.”

“Thanks,” Nancy replied, a few tears still falling from her eyes.

“Dry your eyes.  Get a drink,” Henry told his son.  He was disgusted to see him crying like that, but there was something awfully wrong with him just then, and something else inside him made Henry feel bad for Steve.  What the hell was his son going through?  And why this elaborate fantasy?  A U.S. congressman?  Where the hell did that come from?  “I’ve got work to do,” he told Steve.  “Are you going to be alright?”

Nancy nodded, but stayed where she was.  She watched as the man left her and went back to his office.  She stood there for a while, then finally wiped her face with her hands.  She moved from the window and continued her small tour of the house.  From where she was, there was a wide doorway on the opposite wall.  She went through into a beautiful fancy entryway.  She looked around.  There was a big chandelier light on the ceiling next to the staircase.  On the other side of the hallway from where she was she saw another room.  She went in.  Her eyes found her fake mother there, even while she realized that the room was some kind of nice living area, but there was no TV or anything, just nice looking seats and sofas.  Her family had a room like that in their house.  Her mother and father held a lot of parties there.

Her fake mother was sitting in one of the seats.  “You okay Steve?” she asked.

“Sort of,” Nancy admitted.  “This is nice,” she said looking around.  “Do you hold parties here?”

“Of course,” her fake mother confirmed.

Nancy nodded.  “We’ve got a room like this where we live too.  We have a lot of parties.  Or my parents do.  I don’t usually go.  Neither does my sister.  It’s all usually grownups and business people.”

Agatha nodded, noting the detail that Steve had put into the statement.  It sounded so real!  “What kind of house do you have?” she chanced asking.

“I guess, a lot like this, but…to be honest, I think yours is a bit nicer.  We’ve got a big kitchen too, but we’ve got a huge dining room where we hold lots of fancy dinners.  Or my parents do.  Emily and I usually eat in the kitchen.”

“Emily?” Agatha asked, remembering that Steve had mentioned the name a number of times in the hospital.

“My sister.  She’s older than me.  She’ll be a junior in high school in…a few weeks.”

“And you?” Agatha asked.

“Seventh grade.  Junior high.”

The detail was so real, and surprising.  It was like she was talking to a real child.  But Steve’s big muscular body was right in front of her.  It was difficult to combine the two properly.  She pointed at another doorway.  “Our dining room is right through there.  Take a look.”

Nancy did just that.  She went as far as the doorway and looked in.  The room was beautiful, of course.  “Our dining table is bigger,” she noted.

Agatha decided to chance something.  “I guess your family is wealthy?”

Nancy shrugged.  “I don’t know.  We’re not poor, I’m sure of that.  I get a good allowance every week.  Emily gets more.  A lot more!”

Again, the detail.  As if she was talking to a real child.  A twelve year old child she guessed.  “What do you do with your money?”

Nancy was shocked.  “Shop, of course.  Mom and me…Emily too sometimes, we go shopping all the time.  I love buying clothes.  You should see my closet at home.”

“What else do you like?” Agatha chanced asking, the fear in the pit of her stomach growing with each answer.

Nancy shrugged.  “Clothes, makeup…even though Mom doesn’t let me wear much.  Emily sneaks me some of hers though and she’s been showing me how to use it.”

“A good sister,” Agatha noted.

“The best!” Nancy replied.

“What else do you like?”

“I don’t know.  Boys, games, dancing.  I love dancing.  I’ve been taking ballet lessons since I was six!  But what I really like doing the most is getting together and doing things with my friends.  I don’t get to do that too much though cause of…”  She shrugged.  “Security stuff.  It’s so annoying sometimes.”

That was a detail Agatha hadn’t expected.  The distress in the pit of her stomach grew quite a bit.

Nancy turned and faced her fully.  “So…do I have a room somewhere or something?  Or am I going to be chained up in the basement.  You did kidnap me.”

“We didn’t kidnap you!” Agatha said quickly.  “And you’re Stephen, our son, not some….”

“I’m Nancy!” Nancy shot back quickly.  “Stop calling me Stephen!”  With that she walked away quickly, the tears starting to fall from her eyes again.  She walked straight through the dining room and found herself in the kitchen once again.  She went through the kitchen and back into the mud room next to the garage.  There was another door there, it was locked but she unlocked it easily and went outside.  The yard was nice.  Real nice.  She sat down on the steps that led from the big patio to the grass and let the tears out, hugging herself and crying.  She was just so confused.

Agatha saw Steve sitting on the steps crying.  Softly she opened the door and went outside.  She sat down next to her son, who also wasn’t her son.  If she was this confused herself, and if there really was some young girl living in Steve’s body, how confused did she have to be?  She put her arm around her son’s big body and pulled him into her, letting him cry.  It was so strange to see him crying.  She didn’t think her son had cried since he was very young.  Much younger than the twelve year old girl that he was claiming to be.

Finally, when Steve’s tears seemed to be subsiding, she said, “You really don’t remember anything at all about being Stephen, my son?  There’s nothing in there at all?”

“No.  Not at all.  I only remember everything about me.  And I mean I remember everything about me.  Everything!”

“It seems like it,” Agatha admitted.  “Come on.  Would you like to see your room?”

“Yes please.”

Please.  Her son never said please.  With a shake of her head, she stood up and waited until Steve, or Nancy, or whoever it was, stood up too.  She led the way into the house, through the family room and up the stairs.  At the top of the stairs was another hallway.  She pointed to the left.  “Our room is down there.  The rest is guestrooms and a bathroom.  She pointed to the right side of the house.  “Your room is that way.  I’ll let you…experience it for yourself.  I’ll go back downstairs and leave you to it.”

Nancy watched as her fake mother went back downstairs.  She wiped her face again with her hands to clear some of the tear residue away, then she turned to the right and headed down the hall.  There were four doors, two on the right and two on the left.  She opened the first door on the left and found a  nice bathroom.  She tried the door across the hall and found another nice bedroom, all made up.  Was that her room?  Something told her it probably wasn’t.  The next door on the right held another bedroom.  It looked nice too, but it was decorated differently.  They were like the guest rooms in her own house in New York.

There was one final room.  It was on the other side of the hallway, and there was an ugly poster stuck on the outside of the door.  She guessed that the poster was from some band she had never heard of.  She opened the door and knew immediately that it was supposed to be her room.  What a disaster!  The room was an absolute mess, and one of the biggest things she noticed about it was the smell.  Awful!  It smelled like old gym socks or something.  She backed up across the hallway and stared into the room.  How could anyone breathe in there?  If she went in, would she die of asphyxiation?

Taking her life in her hands, she entered the room.  There were clothes and things strewn everywhere!  It took her a minute to figure out what all the ugly black things were that seemed to be all over the room.  Weights.  For exercise or something.  She was guessing the ugly red bench thing by the window went with all the weights too.  But why did they have to be thrown all over the room?  The bed not being made didn’t surprise her in the least.  The big desk along one of the walls had so much stuff on top of it she couldn’t figure out how anyone could work there.  She noted though that the computer there looked pretty nice.  Better than hers at home.  Kind of like the laptop that Emily had.  The wall above the desk was filled with papers and pictures and the shelf had trophies and model cars.

The top of the dresser was another disaster.  There didn’t seem to be any order to what was on it, just…everything!  And it was piled deep!  There was a door next to the dresser.  She opened it and found a closet.  Lots of clothes and the floor of the closet held all kinds of things, most of which she was guessing were sports related.

There was another door across the room.  She opened it and found a bathroom.  She was guessing it could have been a nice bathroom, but again, it was a disaster.  The bathroom attached to the bedroom though seemed nice.  It was just that she couldn’t figure out how anyone could live in that room.  Especially with that smell.

She hurried out of the room and all the way back downstairs.  She saw her mother in the kitchen.

“Did you find your room alright?” Agatha asked.

“How can anyone live there?” Nancy replied.  “Especially with that smell!  It nearly killed me when I opened the door.”

Agatha shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s your room.”

“It’s not my room!” Nancy was quick to point out.  “It belongs to that…other person.”

“That other person is my son…who you also happen to be,” Agatha reminded her.

Nancy simply stared angrily back at her.  “I don’t want to be your son!  Sorry, but I just want to be me again.  Badly!”

Agatha stared at him, then softened her look.  “I’m sure,” she replied.  “We’re hoping the new doctor will help.”

“When do I see him?”

“Tomorrow,” she told him.

“Tomorrow,” he said.  “What am I supposed to do till then?”

Agatha shrugged.  “Pick up your room.”

“It’s not my mess!”

“But like it or not, it’s still your room.  If you don’t like it, fix it.”

Nancy threw her arms up and turned away.  “How?”

“And while you’re at it, it wouldn’t hurt you to shave your face a bit!” Agatha called after him.

Nancy turned back toward her.  “Shave?”

“Yes!  Your razor is up there…somewhere in that mess!”

Feeling like the entire world just dropped into an entirely new level of strange, she went back upstairs to her room.  The first thing she did was to open the window, letting some much needed fresh air into the room.  She looked all around.  What was she supposed to do with it all?  There was a dirty pair of boxer shorts on the floor at her feet.  She reached down and gingerly picked them up with two fingers.  She held them up.  “Ew!”  She looked around.  What was she supposed to do with them?  What was she supposed to do with her life?

Ew!  Ew!  Ew!