It happened too fast; I saw the car barreling towards me at full speed. Strange, I don’t feel scared. When the car made the impact, (I saw myself as if in a movie) hit the ground a couple feet away from the road.
A man rushed out of the car, fear crawling over his face, “Are you alright?” his voice trembled. “Of course you’re not alright, I just hit you with a car” he answered himself, the beginning of tears in his eyes.
“I’m okay” I tried to say but all that came out was a pained groan. He lifted me up and put me in a sitting position at the back seat of his car “Too bad” I thought sadly, the luxurious leather on his seats were going to be soaked with blood.
I zoned out for what seemed like an hour. When I woke up I found myself in a white room that smelled of disinfectant. I sat up and wiggled my fingers and toes; those seemed to be working. I looked around and saw the man who hit me and saved me sleeping on a chair beside my bed.
I watched him for a while already getting used to his lack of movement when he suddenly jolted awake and blood-shot eyes swung to me. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he asked groggily. “I’m fine” I tentatively replied.
“My voice...it sounds weird” I could tell from the apologetic look on his face that I was not going to like what he was going to say.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “They couldn’t save you” he whispered quietly.
I frowned confused ” But I’m alive,” He seemed to be holding something back. “Spit it out” I lashed out frustrated, it’s my body after all. I get to know what happened to it.
After a few minutes of contemplative silence; he finally gave in; “They had to do a full body recovery, you were too damaged”
I tried to get up and dash to the nearest mirror, but my body felt strange like I was only just getting used to it.
He got up gracefully and helped me to my feet and into the fancy looking restroom. I’m super sure hospitals didn’t look like this.
I faced the mirror and sighed loudly, I didn’t look like myself anymore. Gone were the short spiky black hair and light grey eyes, facing me instead of my reflection was a teenager with a slender face in which rested cerulean blue eyes, a hooked nose, thin eyebrows and a rosebud mouth.
I followed the silky brown hair down to about mid-thigh, then stood back to get a good look at the rest of my body. I now had light olive skin, a slender body and was at least 5′7 tall.
Just as my eyes returned to my face, my brain overloaded with information. ”Name: Ivy Wood, Age: 17, Height: 170cm, Eye colour: Cerulean blue..." The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the stranger's worried face looking down at me.