Mikayla's First Time Driving: A Story

Once upon a time, in a bustling city filled with the echo of engines and continuous chatter, there was a 15 year old named Mikayla. This happened to be Mikayla's first time driving with her friends through the city. The prospect was a little intimidating, but the brave spirit within her stood steady. "Thanks for taking us to the mall Mikayla," said Abby, Mikayla's best friend, from the back seat of the car. "No problem Abby," Mikayla answered, her eyes darting back and forth on the road. "Just trying to focus on driving." But as they approached a major intersection, a gray sedan ran the red light, crashing into Mikayla's car. Everyone was shaken, their hearts pounding as adrenaline pumped through their veins. Stumbling out of the gray sedan came Kendra, a 41-year-old mother of two young boys who were still in the back seat of the car. Kendra was short and blonde, with a sky-blue gaze locked behind her sunglasses. She was dressed in a black tank top, short shorts, and thong sandals and had a purse tossed onto the passenger seat. Amidst the wreckage, you could catch sight of her wedding ring gleaming under the sunlight. "I'm so so so sorry. My husband called me, and I got distracted," Kendra's voice rasped, her speech slurred and stumbling-like. "Yeah, we called the cops because I need to have this on my mom's insurance; this is her car. Do you mind exchanging information with me?" Mikayla asked, trying to sound as composed as possible. Kendra retorted defensively, "What are you some kind of narc? I don't owe you shit." As Mikayla tried to secure Kendra's license plate number, Kendra made a swift move, grabbing Mikayla's shoulder in a rough grip. Mikayla started spinning, a giddy feeling spiraling her vision into a pitch-black darkness. When she finally opened her eyes, such a strange sensation hit her. She was now wearing sunglasses and her hair had changed from a soft brunette to blonde. The once comforting feel of sweater, jeans, and converse shoes was replaced by the discomfort of a tank top, short shorts, and thong sandals. And the strangest part of all was the unfamiliar weight of a wedding ring on her finger. "What the heck?" Mikayla exclaimed in Kendra's raspy voice. "I'm the woman? This isn't my body." A wave of panic swept over her as she walked up to her own body, trying to reason with herself to swap back. But alas, her own body rejected her pleas and, as her memories started being wiped out, the sirens could be heard drawing nearer. Mikayla, now trapped in Kendra's body, swore she'd be a better mother than Kendra had been. However, the vision of herself living Kendra's life made her realize that she was no better, making her forget that she was ever Mikayla in the first place. Now as Kendra, she squinted up at the sun, seeking her sunglasses as she stumbled back to her car. Suddenly, a stern voice broke through the commotion, "Don't leave, ma'am. You caused an accident." "I'm grabbing my sunglasses and checking on my sons, and I want to get home to my husband. I'm tired. I'm a mom. Leave me alone," Kendra slurred, the words becoming heavily slurred before she wretched, the nausea overcoming her. Ultimately, she felt the cold metal of the handcuffs around her wrists, resisting arrest as she was escorted to the police car, the last fragments of Mikayla erased, leaving Kendra, a woman with a wedding ring, evidently a bad driver, a worse parent and now no memory of a young girl named Mikayla.