A Sleepless Night: The Unsettling Awakening of Fletcher in Another World

In the heart of the night, Fletcher Bliss of 2018’s Freaky Friday was nestled in his bed. The skinny little boy, aged around 10, with freckles sprinkling his pale complexion stood no more than 4.5 feet tall. Dressed in a faded Mario Kart t-shirt and matching pajama bottoms, he was the picture of innocent youth. However, peace evaded Fletcher as he twisted and turned in bed, his dark, shaggy hair sticking in all odd directions. His grumbling and murmuring were sporadic—the only indicators of his troubled sleep. Suddenly, he jerked awake with a gasp, his body instinctively gripping the edge of something hard just as he was about to tumble off. Fletcher blinked, trying to adjust to his surroundings. Instead of his messy, race car-themed room, he was in an unfamiliar, brightly lit kitchen. Gaining his bearings, he realized he was seated on the countertop, his stocky legs dangling awkwardly off the edge. Confused and dazed, he looked down. Instead of his pajamas, he was wearing a peculiar, womanly outfit. It was a smart, tailored two-piece suit in pastel pink that Ellen Rogers from the 1976 version of Freaky Friday wore, composed of a button-down blouse and a knee-length skirt. Accompanying the outfit were a pair of sensible, low apricot heels. In this new physique, Ellen appeared to be about 5.5 feet tall, and sporting a stylish bob that was characteristic of the mid-seventies. Feeling unsettled, Fletcher pushed off from the counter, standing for the first time. His legs felt wobbly in the unfamiliar footwear, and he nearly stumbled. That’s when he noticed the slender stick between his fingers. He grimaced, instinctively tossing away the flickering object, not recognizing that it was a cigarette. Scanning the room, he caught sight of his reflection in a stainless-steel fridge. He froze, pointing at it with a trembling hand. He was inside an unfamiliar body, a body of a woman nearing her mid-thirties, draped in a sophisticated outfit. His usually expressive brown eyes were filled with the innocence of a child, brimming with the onset of tears at the sight of this transformation. “Mommy,” he attempted, but instead, his voice came out husky, uttering words that were too mature for his age. "My goodness, one must truly cherish the youthful radiation emitted during one's parental years," he squeaked out. The words felt strange, not his own, and he frantically grasped his throat, surprised by his own voice. A wave of fear washed over him as the room spun. Fletcher, now in the body of Ellen Rogers, and with his mother’s voice, was lost, terrified, and unsure if he could ever switch back to the young boy with the freckled face and race car-themed room.