Confessions are not easy, especially when it involves murder. The day was coming when I would leave but not before I was unveiled by the Surgeon and I was transformed and I made the final decision about Ed.

Thinking back now it all seems so extraordinary and so long ago. But there are plenty of people going under the knife. I know there are scare stories but this was something different. This wasn't an everyday plastic surgeon. There are also many people who come into large amounts of money when they least expect. Some of you reading earlier posts may just come to the conclusion it is all some mental fantasy. It's not. I spent months in virtual isolation while my body was sculpted. That's the only way I can describe it. I altered my diet, and later began to work out until I was the fittest I had ever been.

The Surgeon made a big deal of what he called the 'unveiling' when clients were taken into a room where they were surrounded by mirrors and, like a magician revealing the final illusion or like a a sculptor pulling the drapes of his latest work or art, the bandages were unwrapped while soft music played in background.

I found myself thinking about Ed but even he was fading back into my memory bank.

There are times when your breath is literally taken away or when a moment comes when you know you have taken a step up to a different level of life. When I saw my newly created face, despite some scarring and blotchiness, I was just stunned. All the years of dreaming about being beautiful had come true - at least I was beautiful in my eys.

More later...

It took a little while to get used to the idea of all that money. It also took a little while to think about what The Surgeon had told me and promised me. I had a few doubts about plastic surgery. I'd read about the disasters. The Surgeon said he had gone one stage beyond everyday cosmetic surgery and developed special equipment - don't ask me to explain it - that worked like a sculptor shaping the available material - my flesh - into the best it could ever be.

I paid Ed's medical care bills anonymously. His mother was on welfare. I was starting to come to terms with forgetting about him. There was no hope really unless he suddenly came out of the coma.

The idea of spending quite a few months locked away in The Surgeon's private center in LA was also a difficult thing to buy in to but I thought, what's the alternative. So I signed up.

I can only describe his place as something out of Star Trek. I'd never seen such equipment. I had a private room and was one of about a dozen patients going through body remodelling conveyor belt. The first time I saw The Transformer, as it was called, I almost freaked. The Surgeon could actually get inside this machine and operate batteries of lasers and surgical equipment using a kind of three-dimensional model of the ideal body shape and especially the face. There was wasn't much to do to the rest of me and I had seen a print out of how I might look when I had healed and when I had gone through the exercise and diet routine. Maybe it's the way he hooked his customers but, I gotta admit, I bought it hook, line and sinker.

The current news and noise about face transplants is nothing new. It is partly what I experienced at the hands of the surgeon. When I talk about transformation - that's what I mean.

More to come.

Ella

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For those reading my blogs who might have a quite understandable doubts about the events I am recalling let me say that first, I am real, second, yes I am now rich, three, Ed did exist but is no more and the events of my life might seem amazing but I'll bet thousands of true life stories would appear unbelievable if told like a story in a blog.


The Surgeon told me he had developed the most sophisticated body remodelling technology anywhere on the globe. He said there was nothing else like it and he had a clientele of celebrities and millionaires lining up to get under the laser. He showed me, in that Las Vegas hotel suite, exactly how he could transform me. He said the bone structure was all there. My facial features could be changed and altered and my body honed to a new fitness. He gave me the price and I realised I could now afford it. This was a new feeling for me who had always scrimped and saved.
He described how I would look and how I would be sensational when he had finished with me but it would take six months staying at his exclusive LA surgery. I turned him down. I said I seen articles in magazines about him and what was he doing selling door-to-door. He said his sister, a very famous model, had been attacked, raped and damaged almost beyond recognition by a gang of Deadheads. She was now in a sanatorium and hadn't said a word for six months even though her physical appearance had been saved. He saw something in me that reminded him of her and he wanted to re-make me. The similarity to Ed handing onto life in a coma was uncanny. Still, common sense prevailed and I told him to go.

That was then. That was until I really thought about it and when I did I thought, why not?
Why not go for it? What did I have to lose? Sure, there would be risks but, then, if it worked my life would never be the same again.

$2m. That's what the golden chance was. It was like a virtual wheel of fortune. I almost turned away. I'd lost nearly half the money I'd saved but somehow I got caught up in the huge crowd queuing up with their dollar bills. What the hell! The crowd just pushed me along till I reached the front. There were rows of keyboards and a giant wheel of fortune screen. I paid my dollar and was taken to a seat. You only had a couple of seconds to press a few buttons. I pressed. Then I stood up. Then it was like world war three had started. Somewhere a voice screamed 'jackpot'. Lucky bastard. I started to move away and then I was picked up off the ground by two security guys. It took a good couple of minutes for it to sink in. I'd won $2m. No one prepares you for something like this and even now it's a bit of a haze but I ended up on a small stage with a bunch of suits and cameras flashing every where. I didn't hear a word anyone said and was still trying to think when I was escorted to an elevator that whooshed up to a high floor and shown into the most fantastic suite - champagne, flowers, the works. And on a silver tray on a table in the centre of the room was a check made out in my name for $2m. I sank the champagne. I drowned myself in bubbly and took a huge bubble bath. A little later there as a knock on the door. I staggered to the door and saw a card pushed under. It belonged to The Surgeon and he wanted to talk to me. I was tipsy but not smashed and I opened the door. He was middle aged, greyish hair and very good looking. He was about to make me an offer I could not refuse. I did at first because I thought he had a screw loose but he told me how he had pioneered the most advanced cosmetic surgery procedures. He said it went way beyond ordinary plastic surgery. He told me he could transform me. He said he could make me beautiful and desirable.

And I believed him.

Ella

This stuff about authorities checking IP addresses maybe is right. But I am sharing all this with complete strangers in good faith. Before anyone leaps to judgement let me just say that you have to hear the whole story before you can do that. Maybe you can tell me, if I only use internet cafes to post blogs and Rockport is a made up name (i've no idea what happened to the body) and - well, Ed was shot dead in Los Angeles 18 months ago - I don't know what any authority can do. I would just say it's a figment of my imagination. the thing is, I only found out exactly what awful things Ed did afterwards. At the time, the idea of taking over someone's life and fortune was just a fantastic game. I just went along with Ed never thinking he would really do what he obviously has done. So I don't know if I am an accessory in any legal sense. I just feel that I must be.
What I have told you so far is just the tip of the iceberg. All I can think is that while Ed was in a coma for a year something happened to him. Something evil got inside somehow, don't ask me how. I never saw it. To me he was just Ed and loved him. But the real weird stuff that took place happened while Ed was on life support. I just took off - got on a bus to anywhere. I spent months just doing odd jobs anywhere, mostly waitressing, till I'd saved some money and was starting to think there was no point in praying for Ed's recovery.

That's when I went to Las Vegas, just to have some fun. You know how sometimes a casino puts on an amazing offer - win a fortune for a dollar, that kind of thing. They do it as a PR stunt to publicise that an ordinary Jo can do it, can win the big one. Well, that's exactly what happened.

And that's when I met The Surgeon.

lol

A camp fire story? I would never tell a story like this around a camp fire. I have to be able to hide behind the Internet because truth is freqently stranger than fiction. They often say that Hollywood could never come up with stories stranger or weirder those that actually happen. I guess people are so used to seeing off-the-wall movies that if something happened like them in real life they'd find it hard to believe.

What's wrong with wanting to be beautiful - or as beautiful as you can be? You might be beautiful inside and I guess that's what really counts in the end - but when people turn away from the sight of you, no matter how beautiful your soul is, it still hurts.

And if you found yourself in a position where you could obtain a fortune and get revenge at the same time - I'm sorry, but its just too tempting.

We had a graduation cross-country and, of course, Rockport was one of the favourites. He taunted and taunted Ed to run - and he was no athlete - until he agreed.

Well, Ed started that race with the intention of getting around the course at all costs. But he never did. It wasn't until hours later they found him unconscious in a remote part of the course and he ended up in a coma. Whether he would ever recover no-one knew. It almost tore me apart. Later I overheard Rockport and one of his buddies laughing about how they'd pushed Ed over the edge. That's when things just snapped.

If you want I'll tell you more. It's doing me good just talking about it whether it is believable or not.

lol

You''ll have to read earlier blogs to get the whole story. This is my way of releasing the stress.
I wasn't pretty as a kid and I had a few facial disfiurements that got be bullied and crapped on most of my life. Luckily I had a reasonable brain and won a scholarship to pretty famous college in California. That's where I met Ed. We were the only two scholarship kids in the whole place. The rest had rich or super rich parents - usually three or four with all the split ups and such.

So we got picked on because we were poor - and pretty awful to look at. Ed had a beetroot mark on his face and his teeth were awful but after I time I started to trust him and found out he had so much buried inside him. It just snowballed from there. We could have put up with the smart, snide remarks if it wasn't for Mr Ego on legs whose father virtually owned the college and one of America's biggest corporations. I'll call this grade A asshole Rockport. That's not his real name but it kinda paints a picture. Rockport had it all - he was handsome, stood to inherit the lot. Funny, if it wasn't for the deformities, Ed actually bore a resemblence. You had to look really, really hard to see it and most people didn't do that. Rockport really had it in for us. He had a group he called the Beautiful Elite - the ones who were going to the top.

One day, he just pushed us too far.

I'll tell you more next blog. Jesus, saying all this just makes me feel good - a real release.