Amnesia

Part 1

The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting a cold, almost sterile glow that made the room feel even more lifeless. Blinking a few times, the girl lying on the hospital bed adjusted a stray lock of her long red hair and took a deep breath.

— You probably feel weird, — the guy sitting next to her said cautiously. He looked like he was carefully choosing every word, afraid of saying something wrong.

She turned her gaze to him, her face showing either displeasure or doubt.

— Craig, you… you look like a fucking grown man, — the girl's voice trembled, and she startled herself with its high-pitched tone.

She ran her hand through her hair again, trying to find something familiar. But everything was the same—long hair, smooth and slightly messy after spending so much time in the hospital bed. Her palm slid down her shoulder, along her collarbone, down—until it suddenly pressed against a soft, yielding mound on her chest. She immediately pulled her hand away, her expression turning into a grimace of irritation.

Craig swallowed hard, watching her with concern.

— Amanda…

— Why are you keep calling me that? — She frowned. — My name is Kevin and you know it.

Craig bit his lip and exhaled slowly. His gaze held a mix of pity, anxiety, and something else—something Amanda, or rather, as she stubbornly called herself, Kevin—couldn’t quite grasp yet. He clearly wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

— Ugh… Aman... Kev... — he hesitated, searching for the right words. — Look, this is complicated. You—

— What’s complicated? — she huffed in frustration. — Bro, I already figured it out—I don’t remember the last ten years and, apparently, they somehow invented body-swapping technology in the future and I somehow landed in, and for some fucking reason, I switched bodies with this chick. But that doesn’t mean you get to call me Amanda, okay?

Craig ran a hand down his face, lowering his gaze. He knew this wouldn't be easy, but now that the moment had come, he realized he had slightly overestimated his own strength.

— Alright, fine. Tell me the last thing you remember.

Amanda stared at him, trying to piece together the fragmented puzzle of her memories. She took a deep breath, feeling the fabric of the hospital gown against her noticeably heavier chest, which felt like someone had attached something to her that shouldn't be there. Her hand instinctively clenched at the air where her dick used to be, only to find nothing but empty space between her legs…

— Fuck! — She yanked her hand away like she had just touched something scalding. — Okay, okay… What am I remember? Hm… I remember we were hanging out in Mark’s basement, drinking that disgusting bootleg shit from a plastic bottle… Jesus. — She fell silent, staring in shock at her hands—thin fingers, long nails. — It was like… just now…

Craig nodded, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes, as if he was debating whether he should even say anything at all.

— That was ten years ago. You hadn’t even married Tiffany yet.

Amanda blinked and jerked back, as if someone had just thrown ice water on her.

— What? — She leaned closer to Craig, staring into his eyes. — Tiffany? Is this some kind of joke? I couldn’t have married her—she’s fucking insane.

Craig winced slightly, as if unsure how to react—whether to soften the blow or just give her space to process it.

Part 2

— Well... there was a time when you thought differently, — he cautiously muttered, rubbing his neck.

Amanda narrowed her eyes. She knew he was holding something back. Or afraid to say it.

— Don't mumble, Craig, spit it out, — her voice grew sharper as she tilted her head to the side, looking at him with irritation.

Tiffany.

She was a couple of years older than Kevin. Bright, loud, with fiery red hair that gave any guy a strange mix of arousal and anxiety. Kevin had always liked her, but he never told anyone about it. Besides, Tiffany had a rather reckless and rebellious nature, constantly getting into all sorts of trouble.

And most importantly — she wasn’t all there. No, not in the sense of being completely crazy. It was just that her mind seemed to run on a different program, following some other set of rules.

— Well, why did you go silent?! — Amanda said loudly. — Where is she then? Why the fuck hasn’t she come to me if she’s my wife? Did she cheat on me or something, and that’s why I lost my shit and swapped bodies with some chick?

Craig averted his gaze. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Her eyebrows shot up, then furrowed darkly.

— Damn, Amanda… — he grimaced. — It’s complicated.

— Yeah, obviously. — Amanda let out a nervous huff. — Just like the fact that you keep calling me Amanda.

She locked eyes with Craig, waiting for a proper explanation, but he still looked... lost.

— Listen, — Craig sighed heavily, choosing his words. — Do you seriously think you're 17? That this is just… I don’t know, a glitch or something?

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest but immediately felt how her breasts shifted and pressed against the inside of her arms.

— Think? I fucking know, — she snapped, stealing another quick glance at the unfamiliar fullness on her chest. — Now talk normally already.

— Alright. — Craig lifted his eyes, looking at her. — Since you’re asking so much, fine, okay. You married Tiffany, and a couple of years later, she passed away. It hit you hard, and we were already afraid you might decide to follow her. Then this body-swapping technology appeared. That’s when you switched bodies with this girl, took the name Amanda, and after a while, you started to feel better.

Craig stopped abruptly, seeing how Amanda’s expression shifted as he dumped a massive wave of truth on her. Well, most of it, anyway.

Her face went pale, her lips parted slightly—not in shock, but in that empty, unconscious attempt to say something that got stuck in her throat. Then, slowly, almost in slow motion, her brows started to furrow, and her eyes narrowed.

— What the fuck kind of bullshit are you trying to feed me? — her voice wavered, but there was still confidence in it.

Craig swallowed hard. He knew her mind was a mess right now, desperately trying to process what he had just told her, while at the same time, fighting it with everything she had.

— I get that this sounds insane…

— Sounds insane? — she let out a short, sharp laugh, but it had more of a nervous edge than actual sarcasm. — Let’s set Tiffany aside, though that’s fucked up too. But do you even hear what you're telling me?! Like, not just that I… not just swapped bodies with some random chick, but that I lived like that and I liked it.

— Yeah.

She froze. The words caught in her throat.

She looked down at her hands, at her nails—long, neatly shaped, painted a pale pink. She ran her fingers over her neck, over her collarbones—her skin was smooth, soft. Gone was the roughness, the calloused hands she used to have… when she was still him.

Part 3

— This is bullshit… this is just bullshit… — Her voice broke, but she swallowed immediately, as if afraid Craig would hear the weakness.

— I know how it sounds, but it’s true, — he looked at her softly, almost with pain.

— You don’t know shit! — Her voice suddenly rose, and she sat up abruptly in bed. Her body immediately responded with an uncomfortable heaviness in her chest, as if small sandbags inside her shifted with the movement. Instinctively, she raised her hands to hold them in place, and the moment she realized what she was doing, she exhaled sharply in frustration.

Craig said nothing.

— Alright, okay. Let’s say I just go and switch back, yeah?

Amanda spoke so slowly, as if saying the words out loud would help her check just how ridiculous they sounded.

Craig let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

— You can’t.

Amanda blinked, not immediately processing what he had said.

— What do you mean, “I can’t”? — She let out a small, incredulous laugh, but it looked more like a nervous twitch. — You literally just said the technology exists. That means I just need to find the person I swapped with, and that’s it.

Craig gave her a long, thoughtful look.

— It’s impossible.

— Why?

— Because the reversal is only possible within the first year, and you’ve been in this body for four.

Amanda froze. Her jaw fell open slightly, but not in shock—more in some kind of lost confusion, like her brain simply refused to process the information. She stared at Craig, waiting for him to laugh, to say something like, “Okay, it’s a prank, just some stupid experiment, let’s go home.”

But he didn’t laugh. He just looked at her.

— Four years, — she repeated in a hollow voice, feeling the words fall into a void. — Fuck… then I’ll just find some guy who wants to be a chick and swap with him, huh?… Why… why the fuck are you looking at me like that?

Craig averted his gaze. He wasn’t blinking.

— You… You can’t either, — he said slowly.

— Fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me! Why?!

— Because you can’t swap with someone else if you’re not in your original body, — Craig finally exhaled.

The room became so quiet she could hear the IV drip ticking into the clear bag. She could even hear her own breathing—slightly uneven, anxious.

She blinked.

— So… — Her voice flattened. — You’re saying I’m… this. And that’s it?

Craig nodded silently.

— Forever? — Her lips trembled, but she pressed them into a thin line, refusing to let her emotions slip through.

He nodded again.

— This is a prank. — She suddenly lifted her head and screamed. — This is some fucking prank, isn’t it?!

The door to the hospital room burst open, and in the doorway stood a worried-looking man. He immediately stepped inside, as if afraid he’d be kicked out again.

— Mandy-Bear, are you okay?! — His eyes darted straight to Craig, who raised his hands in surrender, showing he had nothing to do with this, before looking back at Amanda, who was glaring at him with pure hatred.

— Fuck, not you again! I’m not your Mandy-Bear, get the hell out, I told you already, I don’t know you! — She scowled, breathing heavily. — There’s already enough crazy shit going on without you.

The man in the doorway froze, as if someone had just hit him. Something flickered in his eyes… Pain? Hurt? Doubt? He clearly hadn’t been prepared for this.

— Mandy… — He took a step closer but stopped when Amanda practically pressed herself into the pillows, gripping the edges of the bed.

— I said, fuck off! — She could hear her own voice shaking, higher than she wanted it to be.

— Eric, just wait a little longer, please. I’ll explain everything to her.

Craig shot the man in the doorway a pleading look. Eric pressed his lips together, ran a nervous hand over the light stubble on his chin, then reluctantly stepped back. But he obeyed.

Part 4

Amanda watched him go, then grabbed the bottle of water beside her and greedily gulped down what little was left.

— What the fuck is that creep still doing here? — she muttered, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

There was open irritation in Amanda’s voice. Craig tried to force a smile, but it came out strained, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should even be making that expression at all.

Amanda stared at him, drilling him with her gaze.

— Craig, you’re starting to piss me off. I don’t like that look on your face. Let me say this again—read my lips: "Why is that idiot still here?" — Her voice was firm, but there was the faintest hint of panic in it, something she was desperately trying to suppress. — I told him I’m not Amanda, not his fucking wi—

Amanda stumbled on the word "wife," suddenly piecing together everything Craig had said about four years in this body, everything that Eric guy had claimed—that they were married, that she worked as an interior designer at an architecture firm, and, on top of it all, that they had kids together.

Amanda swallowed hard and, after a brief pause, let out a quiet:

— Uh… fuck… — She froze, staring into the void as if trying to digest the sheer insanity of it all.

This was a goddamn circus. For some insane reason, she wasn’t just stuck in someone else’s body—

She was MARRIED.

And not just married. She apparently had kids.

Slowly, she shifted her gaze to Craig, who seemed to be searching for the right words to keep her from having a full-blown meltdown. Then she looked at the door, behind which stood… Eric. A man she didn’t remember at all. A man who had just called her Mandy-Bear like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Fuck.

No one had ever called her that. Like, EVER.

Kevin… well, she… whatever, he would never have allowed anyone to call him something as stupid as "Mandy-Bear." What kind of humiliation was this? What the actual fuck?

She swallowed hard, feeling her dry throat tighten with panic.

— I… — Amanda ran a hand over her face, threading her fingers through her long—fucking long—red hair. There was too much of it. It clung to her fingers, her skin, everything, for fuck’s sake. She nervously pushed it back, but it just fell right back onto her shoulders.

Craig, seeing the quiet horror contorting her face, exhaled slowly.

— I understand how you’re feeling right now...

— Seriously?! — Her head snapped up, eyes flashing with rage and panic, a wide, borderline hysterical grin spreading across her face. — So what, you’ve also suddenly got a pair of tits, a pussy between your legs, all this goddamn hair, AND you’re married to some random dude who calls you "Mandy-Bear," while at home, you’ve got a couple of kids calling you "Mommy"?!

Amanda twitched, trying to ignore how her breasts bounced with every movement, but it was impossible. Her new body had a life of its own—every burst of emotion, every shift, every goddamn twitch was met with weight, movement, and… something else. Something completely alien.

— Uh, no, — Craig exhaled, his face twisting into a tense grimace. — I can’t say I understand this from personal experience, but, Amanda… you’ve been living like this for four years. And you were happy.

— Fuck off, Craig, — Amanda jerked away from him, looking aside with disgust, as if his very presence was making her feel worse. — You’re seriously trying to tell me that I—Kevin—spent four whole years living in this chick’s body, got myself a man, and… kids?!

That last word came out hoarse, like it got stuck in her throat, and just then, from behind the door, there came a muffled but distinct sound—

A baby’s cry.

Part 5

Amanda flinched, her muscles tensing up reflexively. A deep, demanding "waaaaa" echoed off the walls of the hospital room, and her breasts… reacted. Sharply.

A warm wave rushed through her body, her nipples suddenly turned sensitive, and something… tightened inside. As if her body had acted on its own, like someone had flipped a switch.

— What… what the fuck? — her voice trembled as she gripped the bedsheet, feeling her palms suddenly grow clammy.

Craig took a deep breath, looking at her with a strange expression—a mix of regret and… understanding?

— It's your son, Amanda, — he said it slowly, as if carefully placing each word, afraid she might snap.

She wanted to laugh. No, really. Right now. Because this wasn’t just nonsense anymore, this wasn’t some dumb prank—this was some fucking theater of the absurd.

— Are you fucking kidding me? — she said in a tone just below normal, still grinning widely and staring at Craig like he had just told the dumbest joke of his life. But the smile twisted quickly into a grimace because something was happening inside her. Something she couldn't understand or stop.

Her lips trembled, her heart pounded wildly, and in her chest… A strange, warm, pulling sensation spread. Something deep, primal. Like an instinct had just switched on inside her, unasked for. Her abdominal muscles tensed involuntarily, her nipples suddenly turned painfully sensitive, and a wave of wild, inexplicable heat rolled through her body. She didn’t even fully register it at first—too much weird shit had piled up in the last thirty minutes to process this, too. But the moment the infant’s cry outside the door grew louder, her body reacted to it as if… as if it really was her child.

Amanda sank into the pillows, breathing heavily. The dampness in her chest grew stronger, the hospital gown’s fabric clinging unpleasantly to her skin. Slowly, she lowered her gaze and…

— Fuuuck… — she exhaled, almost soundlessly.

Two wet spots had seeped through the thin fabric of her hospital gown, and she felt something warm, sticky slowly trickling down her skin. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, but it didn’t help drown out that strange, almost animalistic pull toward that sound. The crying.

— Wha… what the… — she froze, blinking, as if hoping that if she just refused to look at it, it would all disappear.

But it didn’t.

Her breasts kept responding to the crying. It was… it was fucking insane. Her body was reacting to that sound like someone had rewritten her instincts, installed a new code in her brain that she never asked for.

— What the fuck… — she breathed out, pressing her hands to her chest, but that only made it worse. Under her fingers, she felt not just softness, but a deep, heavy fullness. Something inside pulsed dully, and the slightest pressure sent a sharp, prickling sensation through her nipples, like tiny needles stabbing from the inside.

Part 6

At that moment, another sob came from behind the door, and she felt something leak from her nipples again.

— Fuck!!! Just bring him here already!

She screamed with a voice full of desperation, in which a wild certainty was unmistakable.

The door to the hospital room immediately opened, as if not daring to refuse her command, and Eric appeared again, this time with a newborn in his arms. Amanda froze, staring at him, and suddenly realized what she had just said. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widened, and a thought flashed through her mind: "What the fuck did I just say?" She hadn’t wanted this. She hadn’t asked for this. But her body, her voice, her instincts—they had all acted on their own, as if someone else was controlling her.

— Yeah, honey, I’m here, and so is Steven. You remember now, don’t you? You remember everything? — Eric said as he rocked the crying infant in his arms, stepping closer to her.

— What the fuck!? No, no, no, this is all bullshit, I don’t... I don’t... — The words caught in her throat as her wide, frantic eyes darted between the baby, Eric, and Craig. — Get him away! I don’t—

— Eric, for fuck’s sake! I told you bringing the baby was a bad idea, you’re only making it worse! — Craig jumped up from the chair, his face twisted in anger. — I told you she wasn’t ready! You think this is gonna help? She doesn’t even remember who the hell she is!

Eric hesitated, holding the baby in his arms, his face a mix of guilt and confusion. He looked like he had been caught red-handed, but he was still trying to justify himself.

— I thought it would help, — he muttered, looking at Amanda, who sat frozen, her eyes wide open. — She’s his mother… I thought maybe it would bring her memory back…

— Bring her memory back?! — Craig nearly shouted, his voice shaking with fury. — Do you even hear yourself? She’s in shock, she doesn’t understand what the fuck is going on, and you bring a baby in here like he’s some kind of fucking prop?!

Amanda sat as if in a trance, her gaze shifting from Craig to Eric and then to the baby. The newborn, wrapped in a soft blanket, kept crying, making the already tense atmosphere in the room even more unbearable.

— Will you both just shut the fuck up! — Amanda shouted, but her voice wavered, as if on the verge of breaking. She clenched her fists, feeling her body physically drawn to the crying bundle in Eric’s arms. She looked at the baby he was holding. Something inside her shifted. The feeling was strange, unsettling, and so intense that it scared her.

She swallowed hard, feeling her heartbeat quicken, her breasts heavy with an uncomfortable warmth.

— I... Give him to me, — she said, her voice quieter now, not even understanding why she had said it.

Craig and Eric exchanged glances, as if they couldn’t quite believe what they’d just heard. Eric carefully stepped closer, extending the crying baby toward her.

The moment she took him into her arms, Amanda felt her heart stop for a second, then start pounding even faster. Her hands instinctively found the right position, the baby’s head resting softly against her forearm, and her fingers automatically began to rock him.

She hadn’t even noticed how it happened.

It was… natural.

Part 7

— Mandy… — Eric started, but she abruptly raised her hand to silence him.

— Don't call me that, — she hissed, but her attention was entirely focused on the baby. The little one kept crying, his tiny face scrunched up, hands reaching out helplessly toward her. Amanda felt something tighten inside her. It was a strange, warm feeling she couldn’t explain. Foreign, yet at the same time… so familiar.

— He’s hungry, — she said, not taking her eyes off the baby. Her voice was calm, but inside, she was in complete turmoil. She didn’t want this. She hadn’t asked for this. But her body, her instincts—everything was working against her.

— Amanda… — Craig started, but she snapped toward him.

— I told you, I’m not Amanda, — she repeated, but the moment the words left her lips, she felt her entire being respond to the baby’s cries. She clenched her teeth, trying to ignore it, but it was impossible.

— Fine, — she gave in, feeling her resistance melt away. — Just… turn around.

Eric and Craig exchanged glances. Their expressions held a mix of embarrassment and hope. Slowly, they turned their backs to her, as if granting Amanda even a shred of privacy. She hesitated for a second, checking to make sure they weren’t peeking. Then, gritting her teeth, she yanked down the neckline of her shirt. The fabric gave way with a soft rustle, exposing her breasts, where tiny droplets of milk still glistened.

— Fucking hell… — she muttered, staring at this betrayal of her own body.

The baby, sensing food nearby, squirmed, his tiny mouth desperately searching the air. Instinctively, Amanda pulled him closer, and he latched onto her nipple with a hunger that made her entire body shudder. A wave of warmth spread from her chest through her entire being, making her fingers tighten around the baby just a little more.

— Fuck… fuck… — she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the milk flow out, taking with it that strange, crushing sense of fullness. Her head spun—was it relief? Disgust? She didn’t know anymore. But the anxiety and anger, the panic and confusion—all of it faded, giving way to a strange, warm calm.

— Hey, you, — she suddenly whispered, not expecting the words herself. Her hand moved on its own, settling on the baby’s back, fingers rhythmically patting. The movement was so… automatic. So foreign. So hers. — You think you're in charge, huh? Got everyone wrapped around your little finger, screaming like the whole world owes you something.

In front of her, Eric shifted, as if about to turn around.

— Don't you dare! — Amanda shot him a glare full of fury, but the baby in her arms softened it into something helpless. — Stay put.

For a moment, Amanda closed her eyes, listening to the steady, soothing sound of suckling. Her heart pounded as if trying to burst out of her chest and escape this madness, but her body… her body relaxed, surrendering to this new, unsettling, yet impossibly sweet feeling. It was so overwhelming, so raw, so primal that she almost moaned from the sheer, animalistic pleasure of it.

Part 8

"What the hell is happening to me?" — the thought pulsed in her head, mixing with anxious yet gradually fading rage. — "This is fucking insane. I’m breastfeeding a damn baby! With fucking breasts! I’m not…"

— Hey, don’t bite! — Amanda jerked her shoulder, but the baby only latched on harder, making her swallow a moan. A warm wave spread through her stomach, blending with shame. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her fingers pressing into the baby's soft skin—gently, carefully, as if afraid of breaking those fragile little bones.

— You little rascal…— she whispered almost affectionately, frowning slightly. — You do realize this is completely fucked up, right?

Carefully, afraid to disturb the tiny creature, she touched his soft, almost velvety cheek with her fingers. The baby stirred slightly, barely noticeable, and a faint smile flickered across his sleeping face. Amanda’s heart clenched. "God, how the hell did this even happen?" — she thought, staring at the thin fingers, the delicate, entirely foreign hand that, for some reason, held this tiny being so naturally, as if it had done nothing else its whole life. And yet, deep inside, the realization still lived—she was not herself. She was Kevin. These hair, these breasts, this baby—none of it was right, none of it belonged to her, and it never would.

And yet, in this moment, looking at this tiny little human, she suddenly felt something she had never experienced before. Warm, soft, tender—completely at odds with all the emotions that had flooded her before, full of rage and confusion.

— Kid, you have no idea what kind of shit I’ve landed in, — Amanda whispered with a smirk, desperately trying to hide her own confusion. — But I guess… there’s no getting away from you now.

Meanwhile, Craig and Eric, dutifully facing the wall, stood in awkward silence, pretending to be deeply fascinated by some painting hanging there. They exchanged quick glances, filled with unease and uncertainty. But after a few long moments, Craig smirked subtly and relaxed his shoulders just a little, looking at his friend.

Eric slowly nodded, as if understanding without words. Both of them thought the exact same thing at the same time: yes, this whole situation was insane, unexplainable, and absolutely absurd, but when they heard Amanda’s breathing grow calmer and softer, a faint, almost fragile sense of hope stirred inside them.

"It’s going to be okay," Craig’s gaze silently said.

"It has to be," Eric’s gaze replied.

Behind them, Amanda held the baby close, sighing softly as she gazed at his tiny, peaceful face with a faint smile. Conflicting emotions swirled in her mind, desperately trying to push each other out. She was still Kevin, still didn’t want to be in this body, in this situation, in this life—but the warm, soothing feeling spread through her more and more with every passing moment as she held this tiny little being in her arms.