High Voltage/Rummage through the purse on the bedside table
From Create Your Own Story
The bed was comforting, but I felt like there was no way to stop my hyperventilation. How could this even happen? The flowers on the bedside table were taunting me with their femininity and everything they stood for. "Who sent me flowers?" I wondered out loud and reached out to look at the cards. A small clutch sat on table behind the flowers. The clutch must belong to Lauren! I quickly snatched it and sat cross-legged on the bed.
I opened the clutch and removed a wallet. "Lauren Barnes," I read from the drivers license. I still was not used to my voice, but I no longer needed to cough each time I spoke. The wallet also held a slew of credit cards, some cash, and a student ID.
With nothing left to explore in the wallet, I looked back in the clutch and removed lipstick, a small mirror, and a smartphone. My eyes lit up when I spotted the smartphone; it was a gold mine. I pressed the button and was prompted for a passcode.
A few years ago, this would have been the end of the road, but modern biometrics were my friend. I lightly touched my right thumb to the fingerprint reader and watched as the phone sprang to life. I bet no one at Apple ever considered this situation when they designed Touch ID.
In my hands I held the key to everything that Lauren, or rather that I am. Facebook, bank accounts, email, text messages: all comprised a digital footprint that told me exactly who this woman was, and who I would be expected to be.
Lauren recently turned 21 and was a junior majoring in both history and philosophy. She lived with three other girls in an upperclassmen dorm: Sarah, Hannah, and Elianna. Lauren had a boyfriend Shawn, and two older brothers. Also, her parents were loaded.
A nurse came in to check on me and I clicked the phone off. After she left I turned it back on. I added a new contact and typed in my old phone number. I tapped out a simple message, "We need to talk."
Sarah returned, "They say you are good to go." She tossed me a bag, "I told Hannah your clothes were wet and she picked these up from home. Her and El are waiting downstairs."
I looked in the bag and saw a plethora of girly colors. I looked up to Sarah. She stared back for a moment and then grabbed the door handle, "I'll give you some time to change."
I dumped the contents of the bag on the bed. It looks like Hannah tried to give me some options. There were jeans, leggings, a white long-sleeved t-shirt, some other shirt I could only describe as a blouse, a pink sweatshirt, a bra, and a single red pair of panties. Some options were more gender-neutral, but there were three girls waiting, expecting a girl name Lauren. I might not be Lauren, but should I play the part?
Should I:
