Katie sat at her father’s desk, staring intently at the glowing screen of the Chronivac program. Her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and curiosity as she realized just how much control the software gave her over her own identity. It wasn’t just a tool to tweak her appearance or sharpen her language skills—it could change almost anything about her. The possibilities seemed endless, and she found herself captivated by the idea of experimenting with it further.
Her name, age, race, and even her personality traits were all displayed on the screen in neat, digital rows, waiting for her to make changes. She chewed her bottom lip in thought, her dark brown eyes scanning over her current information.
Name: Katie Kendrick
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian/African-American
IQ: 133
Language: English, Somali
Hair: Long/Black
Eyes: Dark Brown
Occupation: High School Student
Family: Father/Mother/Older Brother/Younger Brother
Katie had already toyed with the idea of making herself look more Somali earlier, even boosting her language skills to match those of her mother, Caaliyah. But now, as she sat alone in her room with the Chronivac at her fingertips, her mind raced with more creative ideas. Why limit herself to just one change? She could become anyone she wanted, even just for a little while.
Her fingers absentmindedly twirled a strand of her long black hair as she glanced over to her desk, where a few printed photos lay scattered. They were images of beautiful women from different cultures—women Katie admired for their unique beauty and heritage. She’d always had an appreciation for diversity, and her Pinterest board was full of pictures of striking women from all over the world. She kept these photos as inspiration, not for any particular reason, but just because they made her feel connected to something larger than herself. They represented so many different kinds of beauty, and Katie often found herself dreaming about what it would be like to embody those qualities.
Katie reached up and adjusted her headband, feeling the fabric shift against her scalp as she looked back at the Chronivac. The question wasn’t if she should change something about herself, but what. With a mischievous smile tugging at her lips, she began to seriously consider the idea of transforming herself into someone completely different.
She thought back to the women in the photos and narrowed it down to three distinct looks, each tied to a culture she admired: Jamaican, Puerto Rican, and Louisiana Creole. Each choice came with its own rich heritage, distinct style, and vibrant cultural identity. As she let her imagination run wild, Katie leaned back in her chair, picturing how each transformation might feel.
The first image that came to mind was of the Jamaican woman she’d saved a picture of—a beautiful model with deep brown skin, full lips, and long, natural hair that cascaded down her back in twists. Katie had always admired the strength and confidence Jamaican women exuded. Their culture was so alive with music, history, and resilience. If she chose to take on a Jamaican look, she wondered how her parents might react. Would her father, Jeff, even recognize her? And her mom, Caaliyah—how would she feel about seeing her daughter embody the island beauty of a Jamaican woman?
Katie giggled at the thought of their reactions, her fingers now lightly drumming on the edge of the desk. Becoming Jamaican, even just for a short time, would be an interesting experiment. The idea of speaking with a Caribbean accent while keeping all her memories and thoughts intact made her smile. "Waa yaab!" she whispered to herself in Somali, still marveling at the possibilities the Chronivac offered.
But then her mind drifted to another image—one of a Puerto Rican woman. The woman in the photo had olive skin, thick waves of dark brown hair, and bright, passionate eyes. Puerto Rican culture was filled with a fiery energy that Katie found captivating. There was something enchanting about the way Puerto Rican women seemed to carry themselves—with pride, grace, and a deep connection to family and tradition. Katie could almost picture herself wearing brightly colored dresses, dancing to salsa music, and speaking Spanish fluently, a language that, until now, had been foreign to her.
She could see the surprise on her parents' faces if she walked downstairs with her new Puerto Rican look. Her dad would probably raise an eyebrow in confusion, while her mom might just laugh and shake her head, never quite knowing what to expect from her unpredictable daughter. "Imagine walking into school like that," Katie thought with a chuckle. How would her friends react? And what about Jack, the boy she had a crush on? Would he even recognize her?
Finally, Katie’s thoughts settled on the idea of becoming Louisiana Creole. The Creole woman in the picture had the most stunning bone structure—high cheekbones, delicate lips, and a complexion that was a warm mix of light brown and golden hues. Her hair was a voluminous cloud of curls, and her eyes were a striking hazel-green. Katie had always been drawn to the mystique and elegance of Creole culture, with its deep roots in French, African, Spanish, and Native American heritage. There was something magical about it—something that seemed almost otherworldly, with its history steeped in folklore, jazz, and rich Southern tradition.
As she considered this option, Katie imagined herself dressed in a flowing white dress, maybe even a hint of lace, her hair styled in those thick, soft curls. She could hear the sound of a slow jazz tune playing in the background as she walked through the old streets of New Orleans. Her mother would probably be the most intrigued by this transformation, given her love for cultural stories and history.
Katie found herself smiling even more at the thought of how much fun it would be to test out these different versions of herself. Each choice came with its own unique flavor, and each could be an opportunity to step outside of her normal life and experience something new. As she ran her fingers through her hair one last time, adjusting the headband once more, she finally made up her mind.