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You DON'T remember?

"Tiffany, how could you forget?" Tess says, gripping your arm tightly. "You know that Mr. Johnson will hurt you if you try to protest!"

Your eyes become wide with shock. You feel anger building within you. No man has the right to violate your body. Who does this Mr. Johnson think he is?

Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots through your head. You groan and place your palms on the top of your head.

"Tiffany!" Tess exclaims. She helps you walk to the women's bathroom. Other waitresses and customers look at you with concerned expressions.

At first, you think your pain is being caused by a migraine, but then you realize it is the male part of your brain causing it. Mentally, you are still torn in two, possessing the memories of your former male self as well as the maufactured memories of your female self. The male part of you still tells you that you are a man, while the rest of your mind insists that you have always been a woman. Your eyes tell you that you are a woman, but for some reason you cannot bring yourself to fully trust what you see.

Once again, you are able to fight off your state of confusion and come to grips with reality. The migraine-like pain subsides. How much longer will you be able to live with your mind split in two like this?

Slowly, you take your hands off your head. A tear starts to run down your cheek. Tess takes a paper towel and carefully dries your eyes.

"There, there, it's okay," she tells you soothingly. "Are you feeling better now?"

You nod and manage a slight smile. "Still shaken up, but okay. I think I had a migraine, but it's gone . . . now."

Tess gives you a hug. "I'm glad you're okay," she says.

A dark-haired waitress, Maria, enters the bathroom. "What happened? Are you okay, Tiffany?"

"Yeah," you reply with a smile. "I'm feeling better now, thanks."

When you emerge from the bathroom, the restaurant manager, Sam, is waiting near the door for you. "Tiff, I heard you weren't feeling well. It wasn't the score from your team's game on TV tonight, was it?" he jokes.

You laugh. "No, it wasn't, Sam," you tell him. "I'm all right."

"You sure? You gave me and other people here a good scare."

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks."

You resume waiting tables, but Sam and Tess watch you carefully, hoping that you will not have another migraine episode. In spite of your difficulty sorting out who you really are and what gender you are supposed to be, you decide that you must find out more about Mr. Johnson and his influence over the waitresses at the restaurant. You wonder why you have no memory of him.

Written by an anonymous author

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