Alesha Struggling

"Donna Troy. How could I... How do... what do..." Sighs.

I raise my head from my hands to look at the mirror. My eyes see my eyes, they look the same as always. Yet they are haunted by today. My hair is my own. My face, my hands. And suddenly I'm seeing not myself.

"You've changed," my mother says as events from earlier today replay in my mind. Her voice isn't curious, it's harsh. It's upset. It sounds mean in my ears. I know she didn't mean it that way. But it hurts.

The phone rings. I answer it. It's my friend Liz, calling to see how I am.

"We fought. Again. We've been fighting a lot recently. More than just the standard, normal Mother-Daughter fights. I hate it. I love my Mother, even when I don't like her. Usually when we fight, we get past it eventually. But our recent fights have been on deeper subjects than boys and makeup and how I dress and who I hang out with. I used to think those were the most important subjects in my life. How could she not see that? How she could have forgotten so much from her youth as to not understand me? At least I had understood her, yeah like you do your mother and all our friends understand their mothers too. We know why they do what they do and say what they say, trying to make our lives miserable and make us do stuff we don't want to.

"Now are fights have been over philosophy, how people should treat each other. Not how I felt she should treat me, that was part of the old fights, but how woman should treat woman, and man should treat woman and vice versa. We fight over politics. We fight over punishments, not like before where it was over how fair they were, but now over how moral the different possibilities are. We fight over laws, we fight over history, we fight over beliefs. And at times I don't even understand why I care so much about these things!"

Liz is in graduate school, so she's knows a lot and has been through a lot. It's really easy to talk to her too, she listens without having to make the conversation about her. She's been worried about me ever since the attack, and every time she talks to me she tries to get me to open up more about it all. She's been immensely helpful. Sadly, she's my only friend who I've been able to relate to recently. All the others are still stuck in their high school/college freshman mentalities. And I think that I should be too....

"The only thing we don't fight about anymore is responsibility," I finish filling in Liz about my Mother and I. "In that One respect, I finally understand my Mother's stance and even agree with her."

"She's right you know," Liz tells me. "You have changed."

I drop my head and close my eyes. The mirror lies to me, I don't want to look at anymore. "I know."

Who is Troia?


I left today. I told my parents who I am. I showed them, as proof. Mom cried. Dad shook his head. I apologized for all the fights. I do love my parents. They still love me. But I can't stay. It's not where I belong anymore. It's not who I am anymore. They say they understand. I'm not so sure they do. How could they understand when I don't?

One moment I was... I knew I was going to die. Then suddenly I was doing stuff, stuff I didn't know how to do, stuff that isn't physically possible for me! And when it was all over, and they were all unconscious around me, I saw was wearing different clothes. How is that possible?

It's the same outfit I'm wearing now. Weird bracelets and all. I don't where I'm going. I know I have a destination though. I hope once I get there I can still purse becoming doctor.