by Adrian
I had a new technologically-advanced toy, a second chance. Did Ricky want me to use it to escape from this prison and get my life back to normal? My mind was racing as I desperately tried to tear open the package. But the plastic was fused together so tightly that it was hard to open. I had to use my teeth. Finally, I made a small hole in the plastic that allowed me to tear a much larger gash. The ring fell into my lap. It was heavier than I thought.
I hopped back into bed with the ring and the instructions. Melanie would have to wait for me on our stone tower—I had important business to attend to down here on Earth. I slipped the ring onto my right pinky. At once the green gemstone began to glow and my whole body felt warm. A female voice said, “Thank you for purchasing the Roleplaying Ring. Please choose role to play.” I wasn’t going to make the same mistake as last time, so I quickly unfolded the instructions, which was just one giant sheet of crinkly paper.
The Roleplaying Ring
The Roleplaying Ring is a device that allows you to inhabit the body of a living being for the purpose of studying its thoughts and actions. While you “roleplay,” your body remains exactly where it started, but your consciousness is transported into the target subject’s body. At the default power level the subject does not even know you are there and will proceed with life as usual. Meanwhile, you will experience the being’s innermost thoughts and feel what it feels. This device is primarily used for psychology experiments, warrior training, or for narrators that need to track characters for a story.
Level System
The ring begins at the default level green. At this introductory level you will fully experience the thoughts, actions, and sensory data of the target subject you are roleplaying. However, you will not be able to control that being in any way—you are just along for the ride.
With practice you will unlock additional power levels—yellow, orange, red, and black. These instructions will interactively fill in with additional information as you progress through the level system.
Should you ever want to reset the ring from a higher level back to the green level, simply insert a paper clip into the small hole next to the gemstone. (All gadgets created by the Last Invention can be reset this way.)
Getting Started
When you are ready to begin, simply speak clearly into the ring the name of the subject you wish to roleplay. Then press down on the glowing gem imbedded in the ring. At once you will be transported into the body of the creature you specified. If you wish to stop roleplaying someone and return to your own body, you must wait for the timer to run out. The default timer is set to one hour.
The rest of the crinkly paper was completely blank. My sweaty palms caused the paper to get stuck to my hand. Satisfied that I couldn’t read any more instructions until they magically filled in, I was ready to try out the new device. Goose bumps covered my arms and legs at the idea of escaping from my body and jumping inside any creature on Earth. My only problem was deciding who to roleplay. I made a list in my mind:
Mom or Dad – I wanted to find out what they thought about me and everything that’s happened.
Ricky or the Pig – I wanted to know what the deal was with these magical objects and who those two were. What did they want with me?
Melanie – I could finally know what she really thought of me deep down inside.
Then it hit me. I was in a mental prison. I would probably have time to roleplay everybody on Earth, unless I got the death penalty. So I decided to roleplay Melanie first. I know. I know. Total obsession. Even in my fantasy on our tower, Melanie and I could only be as close to each other as two separate beings can ever be. But now I had the chance to be totally inside her and feel the warmth of every molecule of her body. I flicked off the ceiling light, dove back into bed, and curled up under the blankets. I must have been grinning as wide as the Cheshire Cat because my lips were starting to crack at the corners.
I put my finger on the glowing green gemstone and waited until my heart stopped pounding. I said “Melanie” and pressed the button. At once a jolt of electricity surged through my body, making me quiver and shake. It felt like a ride at an amusement park—sometimes I bounced completely into the air, taking the covers with me. My insides tickled, and my painful grin got even bigger. I wondered if the guards would allow me to have a Chapstick in my room, or were they afraid my ultra-moist lips would cause food to slip down my throat and choke me? Finally, I crashed to the bed one last time and then escaped from my own body.
My consciousness became a wispy sparkling cloud that floated out of my chest. My new ghostly form traveled straight through the ceiling, through other rooms in the prison, out the roof, and soared into the night sky like a comet. I was freezing, but with no body or skin to shiver and get frostbite. I didn’t have any eyes, nose, mouth, or limbs, yet somehow I knew exactly what was going on—I could see and feel perfectly throughout my entire form at once. My consciousness and senses were intermingled together in a glowing soup that zoomed into outer space and hovered over our slumbering planet. A few seconds later it plummeted down like an out-of-control asteroid, burning through the atmosphere. I screamed, but there was no mouth to make any sounds.
The United States grew closer, and then the state of New York, and then a town on Long Island, and then a big house with a blue porch light. At light-speed I whizzed through a window and landed inside a girl’s body. My sparkly, plasma-like form spread through her whole frame instantly. I felt human again, with arms, limbs, a head, eyes, and stomach. I had warmth.
I wondered how the ring knew that I wanted to roleplay this Melanie—like, aren’t there a million Melanies out there? This technology was obviously super-advanced and could meld with my own thoughts. Maybe I was part of a secret military experiment to test out new psycho-weapons, and Ricky and the pig were part of the CIA. No, they’d never let a pig in the CIA. Maybe FBI.
I couldn’t move any of Melanie’s limbs, but I could feel everything that went on there. Somehow my mind still worked inside her head, and I was me and her at the same time. I could even sense her thoughts. Melanie was having a bad dream about the night I had killed Logan with the butcher knife. Her body was sweating, and her arms and limbs were twitching. I ignored the dream and focused on how good her bed smelled. The odor wasn’t just blueberries this time, but raspberries, grapes, tomatoes, mint, oranges, and salt-air from the sea. And her bed was totally comfortable, like it was made out of a big pile of pure cotton. My room back home smelled like old underwear, and my sheets felt like they were made out of steel thread. What was Melanie’s secret? Which perfume was she using, and where did her parents shop for blankets?
The next thing I noticed was how interesting it felt to be a girl. Even with twitching, sweaty limbs, something felt totally different. There was less pain, along with a feeling of being totally relaxed and in tune with the world. Maybe that was just because she was sleeping. Down below, there was no annoying body part made up of three distinct sections—nothing that got snagged on my limbs. If I was in Adrian’s body in the position that Melanie was in, I would have been shrieking an opera to a sold-out audience. What a relief—that meant no annoying adjusting all the time and pangs of agony. In its place, though, was something totally different and alien-like. Before long, I noticed that I could feel that too, but in a weird way. I decided I would look deeper into the matter once I got settled in. For now it was on to more important things.
Her breasts. So much for nothing sticking out and getting in the way. These things had like ten times more mass than the stuff that was missing. Not that Adrian’s under-powered down there or anything, but seriously, Melanie’s breasts are bulky and uncomfortable. One of them was jammed at a right angle under her side. Was it possible to get pins-and-needles in your breasts? Maybe there’s a third sex out there somewhere in the vast universe that has nothing protruding anywhere. They just have it made—leading a comfortable life sipping hot chocolate while rocking in a chair under a glowing green sun.
A
t that moment Melanie woke up. Her mind instantly remembered the dream about Logan, the same one she had been having every night for the last three weeks. She ran through the whole incident again in her head and the same questions popped up. Why was Logan in her bedroom that day? Her mom was totally overprotective and never would have allowed that in a million years. She couldn’t remember anything from earlier that day. Why did Adrian show up with a butcher knife? It was like a strange, random dream. She asked these questions every night and got no closer to a logical answer. Once again she was covered in sweat and that meant another shower in the middle of the night.
Wow, the roleplaying ring really was useful for narrating about somebody else’s life! I experienced every thought and feeling that she had, but unfortunately I couldn’t get any deeper into her brain than whatever thoughts she was currently having. I couldn’t gain control of it and probe its memory core for information about me. Did she love me deep down inside? Did she reject me only because society would frown on a relationship between a fifteen-year-old and a twelve-year-old? Did she know that my birthday was coming up? I helplessly swam inside her body, waiting for whatever thoughts she was going to have next, whatever actions she was going to take.
I had no complaints about what she did next. None at all.
She got out of bed and stripped off all her clothes. Then she walked into the bathroom that adjoins her room. She turned on the bright light and stared at herself in the mirror. My spirit felt a rush of energy flow through it—she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Not only would she crush Miss Universe in a beauty contest, but if there are parallel dimensions, she would rule those too. Melanie was Miss Infinity—beauty queen of any habitable space in any corner of any reality. I wanted her to never stop looking at herself. Then I focused on her thoughts again and just wanted to slap myself for thinking that. She was about to cry, and she didn’t think she was beautiful at all. Melanie felt like a misshapen freak—one breast bigger than another, bad hair all the time, and lips so puffy that she belonged in a distant tribe in some tropical rainforest. When Logan, Adrian and the new boy she tutored had fallen in love with her beauty, it made her feel good for a little while. But it never lasted long. She always went back to feeling like a lonely freak.
Melanie turned on the shower and made it really hot. I tried to hug her from the inside just to make her feel better, but there was no way I could do anything in my current form. The only limbs I had were hers, and I certainly couldn’t control those. I loved her more than ever at that moment. She had no idea that she was a supreme hottie. She was miserable. A sadness filled her entire body. I couldn’t even cry because they were her eyes, not mine.
I can’t even speak of the shower itself. Seriously. Warm water, lathery soap, her hands feeling every inch of her body. I was living every boy’s dream, yet I still wanted more. I wished that I could control her body parts and make them go where I wanted. My spirit was churning with lust and excitement, and I wondered if all these feelings were being transmitted back to my twelve-year-old body in the prison cell. Perhaps my body couldn’t handle it. Maybe it had already exploded and splattered its guts on the floor and ceiling. Whatever company made that Roleplaying Ring will never go out of business, that’s for sure.
Dumb, Adrian, dumb. I wanted to slap myself for ignoring Melanie’s unhappiness. I had become the Pathetically Perverted Puppy. She wasn’t enjoying the shower at all, except that the sweat was gone, and the dream was fading deeper into the past. I was probably the most insensitive freak that ever lived. Was this really every boy’s dream, or would a real boy have focused on caring about her thoughts and ignored her body completely? I was a cold, alien, heartless, monster. I tried to jam my spirit down in the furthest corner of her left pinky toe as punishment for my selfish thoughts. But even her tiny toe, with its puny nail that had some sock lint stuck under it, was probably the most beautiful pinky toe in creation. I’d go wee wee wee all the way home in that thing any day.
While she was drying herself, my sparkly soul tore free of her body, soared through the roof of her house, and whizzed back into outer space. The freezing, airless vacuum calmed me down. I felt like myself again, even though I was between bodies. Then my spirit plummeted toward the planet, down to North America, New York City, and the mental institution where I was locked up. I landed uncomfortably in my old body. So familiar, so small, so tired, so painful. But I was in my warm bed, with the ring on my finger, and nobody had known about my adventure. This was obviously just the first of many roleplaying journeys.
I had felt Melanie’s misery, yet I was physically excited beyond my wildest dreams. Her soft skin and dewy smell lingered in the back of my mind. And best of all, I knew that she didn’t hate me. She was getting closer to the truth—that something bizarre happened the day Logan came to her house, and I was there to protect her, not ruin her life. She liked that I worshipped her beauty. It made her feel good. She also liked that some new boy she tutored felt the same way. That made me want to kill the little twerp (note to self: don’t tell that to the judge). I was determined to make Melanie happy again, and every breath I took from now on would be for that purpose. We would make each other happy, just like we always did on our tall tower soaring through outer space. I passed out thinking of all the secret joys in life that nobody tells you about when you’re little.
The next morning I looked at my finger to make sure it wasn’t just a dream. The ring was there, but now it was glowing yellow. I had gone up a level! The ring thought I had done a good job inside Melanie’s body. I grabbed the instructions and looked for any new text that had appeared.
Level yellow unlocked: You will now be able to control the actions of your target subject’s body while the subject is sleeping. You will only be in control of muscular function. As before, you will not be in control of the brain, but you can still experience any thoughts the subject is currently having. Should the subject wake up, you will lose control over its body and revert to level green status.
All day I looked forward to the next roleplaying journey that I was going to take. The ring gave me freedom, even though my body was locked in this smelly prison. I caressed it constantly, polished it, hid it from visitors. When the psychiatrist with the mole came in, I smiled and had a great time. Same with the Pamela Anderson nurse (well, an even better time than usual). Even the lawyer with the cabbage smell didn’t bother me. I spent the day with those pathetic wretches, laughing on the inside about how they were trapped inside just one body. They had no magical powers and seemed so puny and weak.
At dinner time Mom and Dad came into my cell with a cake for my birthday. I was thirteen. For some reason I thought it was still a week away, but I wasn’t complaining. I was catching up to Melanie’s age, and that made our relationship not so inappropriate. They both hugged me at the same time, making me burst into tears at the smell of laundry detergent and aftershave. I lay in their arms limply. It seemed like a million years ago that I was back home, where the sound of the grandfather clock ticking on Sunday would remind me that there was school the next day. I missed dumb things, like the sound of our doorbell—a little three note chime that I never heard at any other house. It kind of sounded like the NBC jingle on TV.
“The guard made us cut the cake in front of him to make sure we weren’t smuggling anything inside of it,” Dad said.
“And look, here’s a file and a knife and a cell-phone,” Mom said, quickly pulling them out of her purse. “Some security they have here.”
If Ricky and the pig got in, then obviously anything goes in this place. My ring was hidden in the deepest corner of my underwear drawer. They could never know. So much of my life was a secret now. It’s not like I ever told my parents much, but it still made me feel lonely, even in their arms.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened that day?” Dad asked. “Our lawyer needs to know the truth. The trial’s starting soon.”
“He won’t believe me, Dad.”
“It’s his birthday,” Mom said. “Let him be.”
We ate cake in silence until my face was covered with double chocolate frosting. Mom and Dad had been bugging me for months to tell them about what happened that day. I couldn’t do it. It just sounded too crazy. I clammed up whenever anybody asked me about it. The Body Builder was lifeless and sitting under my bed back home with all my other dead toys (note to self: maybe it can be reset with a paper clip, like those instructions said). They would never believe me, and if there was anything worse than a mental institution, that’s where they’d put me next. If I had known going to one garage sale would land me in this place, I would have sprinted straight home that day.
After my cake, I stretched out on the floor and put my head on Mom’s lap. Mom rubbed my hair, and Dad held my hand. I should have been utterly miserable in that rotten cell, knowing my own parents couldn’t do a thing to help me, but there was the roleplaying ring to think about. It offered me immortality, just like I always wanted. The human boy who became a god. My spirit would live on forever in other people’s bodies even after a big bald man with a scimitar lopped my head off while crowds cheered. Or whatever type of death penalty is legal in this stupid state.
That night I put on my cartoon grin and hopped into bed. I squeezed my parents and their concerns into a small compartment in my brain where they couldn’t get at me. They were worried about my upcoming trial, but I didn’t care about it one bit. All I wanted was to be Melanie, to smell her, to circulate within her veins, to make her the happiest person on Earth.