Warning: This story is not to be reposted or altered in any form, without the expressed, written consent of the author. All characters are (c) Serath


The Diary of Chris Mouse
by Serath


*Click*
"They gave me this tape recorder. They said it would help me remember; fat lot of good that will do, because I can't remember anything. Well, that's not entirely true. I remember waking up in the hospital; I just can't remember anything before that. I have faint memories of screaming my head off, and being sedated. 

I think it has something to do with my arms. From the elbows down, it looks like they've been burned, I'm not an expert enough to tell if it's chemical or fire burns. They're a hideous mess and it turns my stomach to even look at them, when the nurse changes the bandages. Yet, I can't escape this enormous sense of loss. It's as if by destroying my hands, they've destroyed my ability to accomplish anything. Who are they?

*Click*

They gave me a hand mirror today. I finally know who I am. Or should that be what? I'm a mouse-morph, with dark brown hair, and big, hazel eyes. My fur's mostly white, though I have a ring of light brown fur around my right eye. I think it makes me look kinda cute. Of course, so do the glasses. For now, I'm wearing a big, circular pair that makes me look like an owl. I have to say, the simile feels right, because I certainly feel like I should be an intelligent, clever mouse. 

The other clue is the way my big ears constantly swivel and twitch. They're enormously expressive, and they always seem to seek out the slightest sound. In fact, that's why I'm in some kind of isolation room. The doctor told me today that my body is still getting used to itself, and that I'd find a normal room to be blinding, deafening and reeking like a human perfume counter. 

Instead of being reassuring, as it was meant to be, instead, it's made me curious as all get out. Just what did happen to me? To be completely honest, I didn't recognize my own face, at first. Oh, the eyes, the glasses and the hair, short as it is, were all familiar, but at the same time, I feel like I'm looking into the face of a stranger.

*Click* 

You'll have to excuse the rapid panting as I record this. I've just had the most terrifying nightmare you could ever imagine. It was so bad, I woke up screaming. A nurse came in and gave me something to calm me down, which is the only reason I'm actually coherent enough to dictate into this thing. I dreamed I was getting ready for bed, looking into a mirror over the sink, when I felt, with a sudden, creepy chill, that something was wrong with my face. Feeling it with my paws, I discovered to my horror that one of my eyebrows was loose. 

When I tried to probe at it, with one claw, it came away in my hand. Scared, I checked the other one, only for it to fall away too. What followed, I can only describe as an orgy of self destruction. My beautiful ears tore away under my probing paws, and so did my cheeks, and my muzzle, finally the rest of my face gave way as well, as if it were no more than a mask. 

When all the violence was over, I was staring at, not a skeleton, or some kind of fleshless zombie, but a face. It's at that point, I woke up screaming my head off, but I will try my best to describe what I saw. My new face was only skin, it was entirely without fur. It was roughly pinkish-peach colored, with a short, stubby nose that barely projected from my face at all. My ears were small and round, set in the middle of my head, and couldn't move at all. They did have a nice pattern of little ridges, though.

*Click* 

Well, that's one question answered. The doctor came to see me, this morning. While it scared the crap out of me, it turns out my nightmare was fairly normal. Apparently, I wasn't born a mouse, I became one. It turns out I used to be something called a human. They're a furless, tailless species, descended from monkeys. As he explained it, the planet used to be populated, only by these humans, and billions of animals. I already knew what an animal was. That part of my memory seemed to be intact: Everything from flies to elephants. Now, something like ten percent of the population are people like the doctor and I; the intelligence and proportions of a human, and the physical appearance of an animal.

Or rather, like the Doctor. He was born a Furry, as they are commonly known. Myself, I've basically adopted into the family, though some kind of genetic resequencing. Obviously, there's a bit more involved that simply coming out of the closet, but in my case, the doctor freely admitted I'm a complete mystery. When I was brought into the Emergency Room, my body was already tearing itself apart, in the throes of Transitioning, so they couldn't ID me. For now, they are calling me the rodent equivalent of John Doe: Chris Mouse.

*Click* 

They wheeled in a full length mirror today, encouraging me to finally get out of bed. Of course, I made the mistake of believing that I could walk just fine, having done that, since birth. Yep, I ended up flat on my butt. Everyone was really sweet about the whole thing, letting me know that everyone that Transitions to a Furry, has to spend some time in Physical Therapy. A Furry's body is much more reactive, more finely tuned. For one thing, I now have a tail to counterbalance me, and I can stand on my tiptoes, quite comfortably. I don't have true digigrade legs, so I can't maintain it, indefinitely, but it's something humans can barely do. 

I wasn't sure how much of a self examination I was permitted at this point, but the nurse actually started undoing the ties to my paper gown for me and helped me pull my arms out of it, leaving me to walk over to the mirror, completely naked.  He told me quite cheerfully that not only should I look; I was encouraged to freely touch and feel my new body, as much as I wanted.  When I blushed clear to the base of my tail, he gave me a look and asked, "Well, how else are you supposed to learn?" 
        
Since I don't remember what I looked like, as a human, I can't say if my new form is a distinct improvement or not. I'm a tall, slender mouse-boy, with soft, white fur and the most adorable spattering of light brown splotches, all over my body. I don't have any muscles to deserve the name, but the nurse assured me that's normal for someone in my state. What wasn't torn down and rebuilt, my own body actually devoured, to fuel the process. He told me that over the next couple of years, I'd gain weight and fill out again. 

Looking at myself, I knew I'd never be classically, ruggedly handsome, no matter how hard I worked at it. I just didn't have the body. What I did have was the soft build of a man-child. It's really hard to describe in words, but I'll try as best I can. I'm a completely mature adult mouse-morph, but there is an obvious softness to my features. Combined with my mannerisms, my expressive tail, and my big brown eyes, it's almost like I'm still cute as a kid, even though I'm in my twenties.

The one thing the nurse was able to confirm is that typically, no gross changes in bone structure take place, aside from my muzzle and tail. So there's a pretty good chance the sweetness staring back at me from the mirror, is something I possessed all along. Becoming a mouse may have just made it more obvious. The nurse actually told me that for a guy, I have features that are more softly feminine, and that I should be proud of it.
It turns out that Furries have different standards of beauty than humans. It's not just big, muscular guys, and voluptuous, bodice ripping women. They actually have books about it, and since I expressed a particular interest, he promised to bring one in. 

*Click*

Turns out the hospital has a minor library devoted to letting its patients learn about themselves. It's one of the things Furries are trying to change about society. In order to make an informed decision, the patient has a right to know about what's going on in their body, in the simplest terms possible. Right now, I'm reading "Seven Kinds of Beauty", the book the nurse promised to get for me. I've always been a voracious reader, and this is fascinating!

*Click*

I went for my first physical therapy session, today. It's much easier to walk in between those waist high bars. In many ways, I do have to learn to walk again, because my new body is slightly off from the old one. Muscles aren't quite in the right place, or they react slightly differently than I'm used to. Not to mention working out balancing with my tail. After reading "Seven Kinds of Beauty", I asked the Physical Therapy doctor if she thought I was attractive. She smiled and said with my looks, she'd gladly help me with more than my legs. It wasn't until much later, that I grasped the full extent of what she'd meant, and just how big a compliment she'd given me.

*Click*
The doctor's puzzled about my arm's continuing refusal to show any signs of healing. According to him, so long as the skin on my arms wasn't completely dead, the transition should have regenerated it, with little to no scaring. He's not too worried, because I've been able to flex my fingers, all along, and I do have a sense of touch. If this continues on, much longer, he's going to have a biopsy done*

*Click*

For the past couple of days, I've been bothered on and off by a low tone in my ears. It's something I remember from before, but this seemed louder, and more insistent. I was getting the creepy feeling that it wasn't just in my head. Finally, last night, it woke me out of a sound sleep. I was just grouchy enough that I snapped, "All right, already, knock it off!" 

I was shocked to the tip of my tail, when an actual voice replied.
"Oh, thank God, I've been trying to reach you for days!"
"Um, hello?"
There was a deep sigh. "You don't remember me, do you?"
I wracked my brain, and only got a muddy impression, in reply.
"You sound very familiar, but I can't place you." I did a quick scan of the room. "Just where are you, anyway?"
"Um, that's a little complicated. Just trust me, you're not going crazy. We've known each other a very long time. It took nearly forever to track you down, again. Don't worry though, now that I know where you are, I'm on my way. It may take a bit, but I am coming."

"Ummmm." how are you supposed to react, in a situation like that?

There followed a long string of muttering. I caught snatches of it. He seemed very angry at both himself, and some unspecified deity. Then his voice returned, soft gentle, and definitely affectionate. "You don't remember me, do you?"
I laughed, self consciously, "I don't remember much of anything. Do you know why I'm a mouse now? No one else does."

"No, I don't, but I intend to find out. Listen, just to help locate you, ask the nurse, next time they're in. I'll give them a call, just so they know I'm real."
"I really appreciate that....I think. Ummm, what's your name?"
The voice laughed. "Silly me, I forgot to tell you, I was so caught up in the excitement of just finding you alive. It's David, but you always called me Dave. Now that I've found you again, I'll always be here. Just say the words: 'Yo, Dave.'"

"Yo, Dave?" I said, puzzled.

There was a delighted giggle. "Confirmed! I'll talk with you again, soon. G'night!"
"G'night, Dave." I called. 
With that, the voice disappeared.    

*Click*