As the haze slowly dissipated, my senses slowly came into focus. Unfortunately, it did not dispel the confusion that I eventually found myself in.
First things first, my body felt...off, like it was dissolved and reformed into different proportions and shapes entirely. Some areas felt too tight, while others just felt too distended. Perhaps nothing was more evident than the pair of protrusions hanging from my chest. The only thing fastening it in place was the bra I found myself wearing underneath a white button up shirt and grey jacket. Wait... this attire looked familiar somehow...
I found myself sitting behind a large desk in an office. Upon a closer look, it wasn't a foreign sight, and as I picked up the table mirror besides the computer screen on the desk, I was able to confirm my suspicions. I saw my mother's reflection staring back at me, with her polished look, smooth brown hair brushed neatly with some strands cascading down the sides of my pearl skin, and well defined cheekbones. Definitely not the first features I would think of when it comes to my mom, but from this viewpoints, those seem to stand out more than the others. However, looking at mom's face also renewed my previous frustration at her. This was the same woman who argued with me about family and love, and how I wasn't the second-best in her heart. Speaking of which, I could feel that mom's body was a little more fatigued than I would have liked. Was it her work, or the argument from this morning, or some other reason? It's like fate is trying to play a cruel joke with me, literally putting me in mom's shoes for the day.
A sudden disturbance occurred outside of my office, and from the sounds of it, several items fell over. I stood up to head out, hoping to figure out the commotion as well as my current predicament. Of course, it was never going to be easy, as I had to pace myself when walking in those stilettos that mom likes to wear. Seriously, who invented these types of footwear?
Exiting my mom's office, I was aghast at the sight before me. The space was a pure mess, with papers, binders, decorations, you name it, all scattered in an unorderly fashion, almost like a post-apocalyptic scene, if you ask me. However, no one seemed to be around at the moment. Perhaps, they were dealing with some danger or predicament? I have too many questions; I need answers.
Ambling out to the central hallway, my leg suddenly gave way as I heard a snap below me. Luckily, my slow pace allowed me to catch my fall, but it did not spare me from twisting my ankle, causing quite the numbing pain. Sitting myself down, I saw that one of my heels broke off, instigating this issue of mine. Well, not exactly my fault, since I never chose to wear heels, but I had to bear the consequences for now.
As I took over both of my heels from my feet, I suddenly saw a hand extend out in front of me. It looked smooth, milky white, and sleek, almost like an angel's hand. Tracing back to its owner, I saw a blonde woman's face smiling back. Her face had a youthful look with those sparkling blue eyes and blonde strands of hair, the rest tied neatly behind as a ponytail. She had a white shirt, a plaid blue vest on top, a navy blue skirt, dark pantyhose, and short black heels. From her attire, she looked like an employee of my mom's firm, and her name badge seemed to confirm it.
"Thank you," I responded by grabbing her hand to stand back up. Looking at her name tag, I read, "--Chloe," addressing her properly. It felt weird speaking with my mom's voice.
Chloe looked bewildered at first until she followed my line of sight to her name badge before holding a hand before it as if to cover it. "No no," she said, waving her other hand to suggest that there was a misunderstanding. She then proceeded to point herself before repeating, "Minh..Minh."
"Minh?" I said. Was that her actual name? But she looked European, and that is such an unusual name...
The girl grinned before saying, "Yes. Yes. From Vietnam. Vietnam."
"Vietnam?" I responded. Well, now that I think about it, her accent does sound more...Asian, for a lack of better words. But in that case...
I gestured at her, saying, "So this isn't your body?" only to be met with that same bewildered stare. I decided to rephrase it by pointing at her body, "Is this you, before?" It reminded me of that time when a Japanese exchange student came to my school and we had to start communicating with the same method because his English wasn't up to par.
He seemed to finally understood as he repeated, "No no. Minh. Minh. I clean." He made gestures of him mopping the floor and wiping the windows. If I didn't know any better, it was almost like we were playing a game of charades.
I simply nodded. So apparently, I wasn't the only one swapped out of place, as my companion would attest to. Unfortunately, she (or he?) couldn't provide me much else in terms of intel. Given the communication gap, that was probably a given. I gestured him to come along as I continue to search for others in this same situation.
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