It would have been done by now if they didn’t help. Suicide was supposed to end it all but now Tim was forced to deal with a rather large feeding tube shoved down his throat and the rythmic beeping of a hospital machine. His lack of jaw made it hard to wiggle the tube to a better angle. To make matters worse, bandages had been completely wrapped around the hole that use to be Tim’s face. He was debating whether the doctors knew he was awake when the beeping monitor began to pick up its pace. Tim blacked out before help could rush to his aid.

Then he woke up again. But this time it was different. Tim instantly noticed he could see again and he wasn’t in a hospital bed. It seemed he was sitting in a leather roller chair behind the nurses station. His chest sported a smallish set of breast and his feminine hands were holding some form of medical chart that looked foreign to him. Another older looking nurse called out to him from a patient’s room.

“This guy is all over the place, it looks like he’s gonna flatline again.”

Tim mumbled out a high pitched “Okay.” as his eyes took in his own male body laying in bed beyond the worried nurse. Just as he was taking in his face, the fast beeping started. The nurse ran back into the room and Tim drifted away again.

This time he came to in the waiting room. In front of him, his small hands held onto a tablet playing a colorful game. A blonde woman to his right looked down at him and spoke in a childish tone.

“You okay buddy? Do you want to watch the puppy puppet video again?”

He looked up at his “mom” and didn’t know what to say. Thankfully his small ears heard the shuffle of doctors running to a room in back, where a familar body was flatling for a 3rd time.

Tim came through and knew exactly who he was. He stood over his original ruined body with several frantic nurses sorrounding him.

“How much does he need, doctor?” One asked him.

“He isn’t stable but it’s something else doctor. What do we do?” Another begged for a answer.

“We thought he was going to pull thru doctor, maybe he still can.”

Tim got the idea in an instant. He knew he had to say a big number.

“900”

The head nurse looked back confused but shrugged and administered the needle into my old bodies arm. Almost like a fire burning out, Tim felt himself leaving the doctors body. It happened slower than the first 3 transfers. The last words he heard spoke to the doctor informed him that it had worked. The nurses worked to counter the overdosed but it was, thankfully, too late. Everyone who had been controlled shook off the experience, and no one ever knew about the last moment of Tim.