Everything hit me like a Mack truck.Christine, a girl I considered a friend, was dead, and she should havelived. I was spared by a spark of luck, and...I should have died. I wasa woman now, and my body was destroyed. I was a rational person, I knewthe brain was the self, but the body provides the self image, and minewas distorted.I thought back to last night, looking in the mirror, declaring to myselfthat I was Nicole. The words rang hollow in my head now. Apparentlythis is what an identity. Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Part Two - The Parade of Shame When Mousey awoke, she was once again chained in the small cell with the other seven. “What happened?” she asked. She wasn’t so much interested in what had happened to her, but wanted to. More

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