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littlebabybear

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  1. This poem is for all the lucky women out there who have the privilege to be called Mommy. From all littles, we love you very much <3 <3 I love the way you smile I love the way you sing I love the way you are my all And are my everything I love the way you kiss me When I walk through the door I know I can have Mommy's hugs When I am feeling poor I love the way you comfort me And wipe away the tears You alone are the one I trust When the whole world jeers I love the way you diaper me And tape it nice and tight I love when you regress me The way only Mommy might I love the way you feed me Smiling as you do Because there's nothing I'd rather do Than spend this time with you I love the way you play with me Even when you're sad I love the fact that you're my Mommy You always make me glad I love the way you cuddle me And tell me all is right I love all your silly stories When you tuck me in at night I love the way you look at me The way you always do I will always be your little one And forever will I love you <3
  2. Thanks for the support, guys! Huge thank you for encouraging me to continue - I'm really proud of this concept too. *******************************************
  3. Trixie Cassidy had awoken out of her sleep that morning with a smile. She was glad that her husband had diapered her; hell, she was glad he cared at all. She worked hard to show her appreciation every day, and he seemed to only return it with more love. They had been married a good fourteen years, and she had little doubt it would last forever. But being a mother was not what she thought it would be.*She had read all the web sites, of course, but it was another thing to actually have to do it. The first months of Sarah's life had been hard. It was amazing, really, to be a caretaker of a real baby when you wished more than anything to be one yourself. Diapers were easy enough, even dirty ones; she had practiced diapering for as long as she was alive. She didn't mind the vomiting, or even the late night feedings. It was the crying.*She could never stand a baby's crying, even now. It hurt her in a way she couldn't define, and it often brought her to tears. She'd even sucked her thumb on a plane, when a child was screaming its head off after being awoken from the bumps of turbulency. It scared her, a little one's tears. No wonder she was never naughty when she was in little space.John didn't mind. He rolled his sleepy body onto her, touching the saturated diaper."Did baby do a wee?" he asked, his eyes still firmly closed."John, I'm fine now. What are we going to do about Sarah?" she said, annoyed.He huffed."She seems to be AB. Nothing to worry about. I think someone needs a nappy change, though." he said playfully, rubbing her back."I said I'm fine. What are we supposed to do with an adult baby daughter? We can't encourage it, or we'll be known as that weird family that lets their kid wear diapers.""Honey, you've got to stop worrying. Why don't we have her see a psychologist if this bothers you so much?""Why would she need to see a shrink? She's not crazy. Unless you count a diaper fetish as a disorder, at which point you shouldn't have married me.""Not to counsel her, to have her evaluated. You know, make sure it's not our fault. Honey?"She smiled.*"Sounds great. Can... Daddy, I need a-" she said, biting her lip softly."I know, baby. Lie down, love, let's get you in some grown up underwear." he said, pushing himself into an upright position."No, Daddy. Baby nappy for me." she said biting the end of her thumb."Honey, I can't baby you today. I have work to do. My novel won't write itself, you know."She made a pouty face."Honey, no, please. Daddy has to work. Besides, who's gonna take Sarah to school?""Daddy take sister to school. Daddy love baby at home."She wasn't going to stop, he knew that. She was relentless and even more so in little mode. He bent over and pulled her pacifier from the drawer. It was pink and had a bunny sticker over the guard. She had always loved it. He handed it to her and she promptly began coating it in saliva and sucking the latex. She was safe today.Sarah Cassidy waited in her bed quietly. She didn't want to lose her diapers. It wasn't something she could explain, and she knew it was ridiculous, but she needed them. They were special. They were good.She looked over at the stack. They were standard hospital-business nappies, and although a little boring, they were enough. She couldn't help but feel sometimes that she wanted proper disposable diapers, but she had to reject that. She wasn't a baby.Knock, knock."Honey, you in there? Time to get up, darling. School's waiting.""I don't want to get up, Daddy. Everybody hates me at school. I want to stay here."She could hear the frustration in his voice. He opened the door."Sarah, nobody hates you. You have Michael, remember? And they'll forget about this. Would it make you feel better if you had some padding this time around?"She nodded. He removed her blanket and lifted her heavy body off the bed. A wet patch was sitting on her pyjamas."Guess these nappies aren't enough for my big baby girl." he noticed.She smiled."Do I have to be a big girl and stop wearing nappies?"He removed her pyjama pants."It all depends on you, sweetie. It's okay to be little sometimes, it really is. Nobody can force you to do something you don't want to do. So if you want to wear nappies, you can. If it helps you feel like a baby, that's okay too."She nodded. Her father took one of the thin cloth nappies and tore a hole through the middle. He wrapped another one over it and changed her."Daddy, can I... wear real nappies? Not these, but real nappies?"He looked at her. Those poor little eyes, those sweet, sweet innocent eyes. He saw those eyes in Trixie all the time. The eyes of a baby."Darling, I... I can't answer that. Tell you what, we're going to see a psychologist today. She's gonna talk to you, and you say whatever comes to your mind. And maybe she can answer that question. But school first.""No, no school.""Sarah, you are going to school. Don't argue, please. I am not in the mood. Mum and I are going to pick you up at two thirty sharp. Then we are going to go see the psychologist. We will see what we're going to do from there."Sarah thought about protesting, but could tell it was better not to. There was a fire in her father's eyes, and it scared her. Was she bad?He finished diapering her, then told her to get dressed. He left the room, and sat against the wall that Sarah couldn't see. He held back the tears. Why was this so hard? It wasn't wrong, he knew that. But he didn't know if he could do what he had to do. Dammit, she was meant to be normal. Trixie was okay because she was an adult when they met, but this- this was his daughter. He remembered the sleepless nights, the feedings, the endless diaper changes. He remembered her crying over the lack of milk in her belly and her mother's breakdowns. It was a living hell and he didn't know what she wanted.The girl stood there, swaddled in a blanket. She saw her father there, just there. She could see the fear in his soul. He hadn't done this before. He was her rock."Daddy? What's wrong?"He turned his head. There his girl stood, and she was scared. And he didn't know who he was anymore.***************************************** Sarah Cassidy kicked open the door open to the black BMW her father drove.
  4. The first two parts of Eleven are here: Eleven We were the best of friends. We played house, doctors, jump rope and all the other games children played. She taught me Australianisms and I taught her how to fit in. She was my best and only friend. One day though, I was curious. "Sarah, can I ask you a question?" She nodded. "When I first came over to your house, you were... uh... wearing a diaper. Why were you?" She bit her lip and looked down at her shoelaces. "Um, err, I... I don't know. I started bedwetting when I was five. Mum changed the sheets for a while, but eventually sat me down and asked if I wanted to wear nappies. I was a little scared, but she said it would be okay. I kind of fell into the, uh, feeling. Why do you want to know?" she asked, trying to remain composed. "It's just that... it was a little weird. I haven't touched a diaper since I was three. And... you call them Mommy and Daddy. Like a baby. You're not a baby anymore, right Sarah?" She looked at me with anger, but eyes filled with tears. She was afraid. "No. Why do you care? You're my friend. Friends don't call their friends weird. I'm not a baby! Nobody thinks that!" she snapped. I tried to apologize, but she had already stormed off. She ran to the bathroom, slammed the door and wept for the next hour. I didn't see her for the rest of the day. The next day, she arrived happy. She was dressed in a new skirt, top and had her hair moved to a flowing ponytail. "Hey, Michael. Like my new outfit? Mumm- I mean, Mum bought it for me." I took in the new look. She was prettier, more adult-ish. She swung her skirt around, trying to show off herself. When I couldn't figure it out, she pointed at her bottom. "No nappy! Mum and I talked last night. I'm going to be a big girl now, Michael! No more baby girl Sarah!" I nodded, but didn't quite understand. I didn't have time to ask further, as old British Mrs Nesbitt was opening her morning lecture. "Hello class. Please take a seat, all of you. It's time to start our English study. But before we do, let's welcome a new student to our class. Class, please welcome a new girl. I want you all to meet Jessica Hembrook." Oh, goodness, Jessica Hembrook. Even now, as I type on this keyboard, I still feel the anger in my soul. Of what she did to me. To Sarah. She walked in, all posh and know-it-all. She wore clothes far outside the dress code, on the expensive rich little snitch end of the spectrum. A golden laced silver skirt, a striped fabric I couldn't name but heard of somewhere in a fashion magazine and a face that screamed of bossy ownership. She pointed to a seat next to Sarah. "Next to Beach Blonde, Mrs Nesbitt." The teacher granted her request and allowed five minutes of greeting. Sarah leaned over to her. "Hi, I'm Sarah. Pleased to meet you, I know what it's like to be new and need some friends." She looked at her in slight disgust. "I think I won't be making your acquaintance, Sarah." Sarah looked at her in confusion. She tried to draw some words, but found none. "W-Why?" Jessica turned to face her. "Oh, there are several reasons. I, for one, am very certainly focused on the American way. You know, liberty and freedom? Something I am sure your pathetic little Australian mind couldn't possibly comprehend. Take for instance, your history against the fine ways of the American history. The Australian population was originally composed of penal colonies, criminals. How poorly the British nation must have thought of you, submitting you to a land so isolated it was deemed empty and barren. They planned for your people to die out in the wilderness, but somehow you built a society so heartless and cruel they deemed others of the land to be lower than dirt. How could I possibly concern myself with a society that stole the children of innocent people, the owners of the land? Also, take your language. A hopeless derivative of British and American English that invents so many non-existing and ridiculous words for creatures and activities no other society would dare make, taking the gloriously crafted English language and caking pathetic renditions of unutterable sets of syllables on it. So I dare not infect myself or taint my social circle with a corrupted and twisted society of infantile and mindless losers who can only beg that they be accepted by the great American way. Please, run back to your pathetic band of hopeless thieves and drunkards and leave us fine Americans to lead the world in every way, as we already do." Sarah's jaw hanged out. She began to tear up, then dropped her head onto her desk and tried to cry silently. Failing that, she stood up and ran out of the classroom. I chased after her. "Sarah! Just ignore her, she's stupid. Don't cry. She's evil, she-" "SHE'S RIGHT!" she screamed. "I'm just a pathetic Australian girl who should just go away. Look at me! I don't belong here! I'm pathetic and-" She stopped as urine flowed down her legs. She looked at me, and, embarrassed, ran screaming out the door and into the yard. "Eww, she peed herself. What are you looking at? Why are you sticking with Beach Blonde? She just wet herself like a little baby girl. Baby girl, baby girl!" Jessica followed the trail, yelling out after the child. Mrs Nesbitt stood up. "Class, get back in your seats now! That includes you, Jessica! What did you do, Jessica? Why is she crying?" She looked up at the teacher with innocent eyes. "She said I was ugly and didn't belong here. I told her she should be nicer, but she told me to go away and never come back. So I told her off, like my mother does when my little brother is rude to her." Mrs Nesbitt crossed her arms. "What did you say?" "That she was mean and should sit in the corner. She said she wasn't a baby, and I couldn't tell her what to do. But it seems that she pees herself like a baby, so I don't know what to think." "I don't think that's what happened. You and your parents are going to talk to me today after school. Now, I'd ask you to apologise to Sarah but she has run away. I'm going to call her parents, and I want you to think about what you've done." Sarah had already found her parents. Her mother was at the local bank, that happened to sit a few blocks away from our school. She ran up to her, blubbering. "Sarah, what are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be in school?" She was wailing. "Mummy, Mummy, help me! I'm sorry I want to be a grown up like you. I want to be a baby, Mummy! Cuddle me and love me! We're not criminals, I know it!" "What are you talking about? Settle down for a moment, honey, let's talk." Trixie sat down and took her daughter in her arms. "There's a new girl in class, and she said we were pathetic and bad and stole and broke English and I was a baby." "What? Who said that? What did she mean?" "Jessica. She said Australians are bad and stole things and were sent to Australia to teach them a lesson. But you said Australians were the luckiest people in the world. We're good, aren't we Mummy?" "Yes, we are. Why was she calling you a baby?" "I wet myself. Mummy, you were right. I don't want to grow up, I want to be a little girl forever and ever. Put me in nappies, Mummy, please!" she cried. Other mothers stared at Trixie and the eleven year old crying like a toddler. "Okay, settle down. Come on, let's go home and talk about this. Actually, we should go to the school and talk to Mrs Nesbitt, okay?" She buried her face in her mother's breast. "No, Mummy! Not school, ever again! School is for big kids and I'm little! See-" she stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked hard and loud. "I'm little! Little girl! Mummy's little girl! Baby! I'm a baby!" Trixie sat down to see her daughter at eye level. "Sarah, you're okay. You're okay. You are not a baby. You're my big eleven year old girl who goes to school and has friends. Remember Michael? He likes you because you are a big girl, not a baby. Come on, honey, let's talk in the car." Sarah stood there crying, but let her mother finish her investment and took her out to the car. She opened the door and placed Sarah on the passenger seat, closed the door, then came around into the driver's seat. "Okay, Sarah. What's going on? What did Jessica do, exactly?" "I-I tried to say hello, and she yelled at me." "What did she say?" "That Australians are criminals and stole things and were sent there to be nicer. But we hurt the Aboriginals and treated them like dirt and stole the babies. We didn't do that, did we?" Trixie took in a breath. Was she ready to know about the Stolen Generation? "A long time ago, the Australian government took away some children of Aboriginal Australians who were told they were bad parents. The government taught them how to be what they thought was normal. We call those people the 'Stolen Generation'." "It-it's true? They took away babies? What if I was an Aboriginal baby then, would I have been stolen? Would they have taken me away from you and Daddy?" She tried to calm herself, but she knew this was a hard thing. Even she couldn't explain this. She had done everything to prove to her little girl that the world was fair, that everyone was good. Now she had to show her the real world. "Honey, they wouldn't have. Because it was a long time ago, and they realised their mistake. It was a bad time for Aboriginal Australians. I'm sorry that you had to find that out the hard way. But Sarah, it's all over. Aboriginals have better rights now. Like Jessica Mauboy, that singer? She's Aboriginal. She is loved by a lot of people all over the world, because the government realised they made a mistake. They are safe now. Those babies can live happily with their mummies now, because it stopped. Honey, it's okay. What else did Jessica say?" "She said I was a baby because I wet myself." Trixie felt the emotion wave over her, anger and deep sadness. Countless memories of children laughing and pointing at her filled her head. She took her daughter into her arms. "Baby, you're not a- Sarah, you're not a baby. Remember this morning? Dry. You are a big girl. Look at you. Do you think you are a baby? Look-" she pointed out her hands and thin figure. "big girl. And all kids have accidents now and then. Did you know that I used to?" Sarah rubbed her eyes and looked at her mother. "You did?" "Yeah. Grandma didn't like it. She used to beat me for it. I never stopped wetting until I was fifteen. I just stopped then. We all grow at different rates, honey. And just because you need nappies doesn't make you a baby. There are lots of grown ups who wear nappies." "Who?" Trixie stopped for a second. Oh, goodness, did she almost reveal her... No, better stop. If she wants that, she'll find it herself. She's normal. "Uh, people with bad bladders. Incontinent people. Usually old people." "Like Grandpa?" Trixie laughed. "Grandpa's not that old. Very, very old people, darling. Or..." "Or who, Mummy?" "Or normal people with broken bladders. Like you, honey. Do you find it hard to control your wees, darling? It's okay to say yes." "No, Mummy. I can control myself fine." A stone of guilt hit her stomach. Trixie felt fear fill her heart. "You... can control yourself? So you pretend?" "Yes. I like the feeling of being a baby. Is that wrong, Mummy?" "No. Let's go home, honey, I don't feel very well. Get in the back seat, Sarah, we're going home." Sarah obeyed her mother. She didn't understand why her mum was upset though. Acting like a baby was okay, right? Surely? ************************ "John, what have I done wrong? Why is she going this way?" Trixie was venting to her husband in the bedroom. "Do you think she found anything? I mean, we're so careful, but... What if she found my stash? What if I've been babying her too much? What if-" John spoke calmly. "She hasn't found anything, honey, I'm sure. She would tell us right away. And she loves you very much. I'm sure it's the attention she gets out if it." "But what if she found something? Maybe she went through my drawers and found my baby dummy. She probably sucked it herself and enjoyed the feeling. Oh God, what have I done?" She sat down on the bed next to her husband. "It's bad enough I'm this way, but Sarah? I can't go through that again. She can't go through that. I'm her mum, I won't let her." "Honey, you're overreacting. She's only eleven, there's plenty of time to wean her off this. And if she is ABDL, so what? You know they come through whether their parents allow it or not. We have to support her, love." "But I forced her into this. If I had been a little stricter, I..." Her husband took her by the arms and pulled her onto his lap. "You didn't force anything, sweetie. And she is normal. Look at her, she's eleven years old. She likes books and High School Musical and Doctor Who and Minecraft. She's normal. You are a great mother. Why won't you believe that?" "I- I just want her to be happy. I want her to be happier than I was. I want her to have a family, a nice husband, a few kids. Not some nappy-loving freak like I am. Oh, Daddy." She began crying into her husband's shoulder, and nursing her thumb in her mouth. He removed her thumb and hugged her close. "Honey, you are not a nappy-loving freak. You're worried she can't be normal if she's ABDL. But look at you. You're a kind, lovely mother of a sweet eleven year old daughter and a great wife. You have kept several jobs and are a perfectly healthy woman. And guess what, Trixie? You're an adult baby. But you keep it in check, you take care of the house and raise our daughter and pay the bills and go out to movies. You are a very normal woman, Trixie. Sarah and I know that, and we love you for the amazing woman you are." Trixie nodded and sucked back her tears. "I am a big girl, aren't I?" "Yes you are, my love. Have a cuddle, big girl Trixie." He laid back and pulled his wife back with him. He grabbed her by the waist and drew her into his embrace. She cried and wrapped herself around her husband. "Big girl, big girl." ***************************************** Half an hour passed. John Cassidy gently shifted his wife onto the bed beside him. She curled up into a ball and sucked her thumb. She was in little mode again. He sat up and pulled the blanket over her. She moaned quietly. He pondered whether to diaper her or let her sleep. She was rather regressed, and would probably wet herself in her sleep. But did he want to wake her? She was so calm, so peaceful. Escaping to a world where she had no responsibilities, where even going to the toilet was taken care of. He wished he could understand what it was like for her. He stepped quietly out of bed and went over to the closet. He shifted out her neatly arranged dresses and shoes, and pulled out a small locked container. Dust was forming over the lock. Yeah, Sarah had no idea. He wondered about his daughter as he unlocked the box. Could she be an infantilist? Could her mother have passed on the DNA codes of an adult baby? He had never read anything about such a thing online. But adult babies were so poorly documented online, anything was possible. He looked down fondly at the sight he saw. The box contained the key baby things she needed, as well as some art. A few photographs of Trixie in littlespace, sucking a bottle and watching telly. He took out one of his favourites, a photo of her in a nappy and a T-shirt with the word BABY written across the front. She was smiling, about to blow out a vanilla cake with a single special candle, a big '1'. She was so happy. So beautiful. It wasn't just her little side's imaginary birthday, either. It was their first anniversary. He had planned it out, very specially. He had rented out a local hotel and hired some temporary AB materials for her to indulge in. He had it all ready a week in advance. The hotel owner had given him permission to paint the room a sweet baby girl pink, as it was about to be turned into a playroom anyway. A large dragon plushie sat in the corner, a stack of nappies, her favourite kind, a box of toys, wooden with a painted teddy bear on it containing a range of toys, all girly, from old Barbies to newborn My First Teddies. The star of the room was a large crib, furnished with soft bedding and a sweet Play School blankie. A changing table sat on the other side of the room, although she probably wasn't going to use it as she was terrified of heights in her little mode. Her favourite toy was sitting on a rocking chair that could support both their weights, a little Jessie doll she held over from her childhood. He had a tall table set up that had adult-sized baby bottles, as well as a small tape player that was already holding a nursery CD, but there was a selection of other baby CDs if she wanted. Everything was designed for her, even the rug was a nursery print. It was the least she deserved. He had a camera set up to film every moment. She was a little camera shy, he already knew that, but hoped when she got into it she would be okay. He started the evening with a short dinner at Marco's pizzeria, the place he had first seen her. She was on the bad end of a date blowoff and was depressed. He offered her dinner, and things went from there. She recognised the place immediately. She was so happy, she kissed him and told him this was the best date ever. He quietly whispered that she had no idea, and led her to her seat. They talked for a while, discussing their first date. After half an hour, he revealed it to her. "Trixie, I want you to know that I love you very much. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and I want to show that to you. So, we will not be staying here. I have a surprise for you. Baby." He emphasised the last word, took her hand and led her out of the restaurant. He walked her to his car and opened the door for her. "John, what are you doing? I'm not having sex with you, if that's what you're trying to say." "I'm not going to have sex with you, Trixie. I'm going to show you my love for you." She didn't understand, but let him drive her away. When they approached the hotel, she shuddered. "I... I'm not having sex with you. Don't you dare try it, John. We are waiting til marriage, we agreed." "Honey, I promise I'm not going to have sex with you. You'll have to see. But I promise, if we have sex you can throw me away and hit me and beat me up and hate me. Because it is not going to happen, I swear on your life." She was still worried, but let him guide her into the lobby. The owner's eyes lit up when he saw Trixie. "Good evening, Madame. You arrived just on time. Please, follow me. Don't look so worried, Madam, it will be all right." They stood at the door. She took a protective stance behind him and asked for a promise not to have sex. He reassured her, kissing her on the forehead. He swung open the door. She looked inside, and her fear turned to amazement, then tears. "Oh, John, I love you so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is... Oh my, I love you! How did you? Oh, John, thank you so so so so much! John, I love it, I love you! Oh, you wonderful, oh my..." she exclaimed. She walked in, taking in the sights and smells and tried to memorise everything. She fell to the floor. "Do you like it? I've been planning this for a month now. I remember when you told me you liked the feeling of being a baby, and I wanted to spoil you. Are you happy?" She turned to face him. Her eyes were turning younger and younger every second. "Daddy perfect!" she exclaimed. He walked in and sat on his knees next to her. "We have all night, baby. You and me, Daddy and his angel. You can be whoever you want to be tonight. And I knew you wanted to be little." She looked up at him, mouth open. She was at the lowest age she could make herself, a useless newborn. He took a nappy from the corner. "Baby needs a nappy on, doesn't she? Daddy is so happy, it's like Daddy just had a baby. What are you smiling about, huh? Is baby girl happy?" He said to his newly regressed girlfriend. She was so happy, she couldn't say anything, just roll softly on her back and lick her lips. He removed her skirt and underwear. The baby had a tampon in, that he quickly removed. She giggled. "What's so funny, baby girl? Is Daddy doing something silly? Is he?" She laughed more as he gently tickled her belly. He finished diapering her and lay down next to her. "What do you want to do, baby princess? Wanna play? Or listen to some nursery music? Or just cuddle up to Daddy?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and started to softly cry. He pulled a dummy out of
  5. Seven, she was, as I recall. The young woman's face, slender and full of heart, and her piercing blue eyes. She was a wonder, a creature of innocence. She held herself close, monitoring every word she dared utter, wanting desperately to know her place in the world. The girl who was a woman. Sarah Cassidy, she was known as. Born overseas, somewhere in Australia, she was taken here with her family to grow up in the concrete jungle we know as New York. I still remember sitting behind her desk, trying to memorize every blonde line that was scattered effortlessly on her shoulders. She was a soft creation, even back then, politely whispering her answers to the teachers. Yes, she was a delicate one, indeed. I recall my memory to that day that she was caught. The girl, sitting legs crossed was bawling her eyes out begging for forgiveness, but our infamous principal would have nothing of it. "You are a strange one, Sarah," he said heartlessly behind that big bushy mustache. "In all my years, I have never seen anything like this." We never found out what she had. That didn't stop the rumors, though. "It's a knife," said red-headed Jimmy. "She's gotta have a knife. My dad reckons it's a knife, and he's always right." "Rubbish," said Julie. "If it were a knife we'd all know. Perhaps it's a cigarette. Considering what old Mickey's been rambling on about at the assemblies recently, it makes sense." There were many other ideas. It seemed like they all had one, each as unique as their lunch boxes. Nobody dared ask, though. The higher graders were daring each other to find out, but we all knew they were too chicken. She was on the monkey bars when I worked up the courage to talk to her. "Hi, Sarah." She was startled. The poor love was more shocked than when the librarian found Tommy's Playboy. "You here to make fun of me, are ya?" "Uh, no, actually. I wanted to... uh... offer... uh... friendship. If you want. I mean, I know what it's like to be alone. Need a friend?" She smiled. "You're funny. What's ya name, mate?" "I-I'm..." "Settle down, you're worse than the jumbucks on shearin' night." "I don't know what that means, but all right. I'm Michael. Your name is Sarah, right?" She nodded. "Have you had lunch? Do you want to, I don't know, have a bite to eat? With me, of course." She giggled and nodded. Yeah, Sarah Cassidy. She was a special kind of girl, as I'd find out. ***************** Out we were, over by the fake tree they planted years ago, well before we were even born. "Where are you from, exactly?" I asked, munching on a stick of celery. "Um, well, Australia, obviously. I was born in this city called Melbourne, but we moved out to the outer suburbs when I was six months old. Mum always tells me about when I was running out in nothing but a nappy through the cow's field." I looked at her in confusion. "Nappies? You know, Huggies and BabyLove? Oh wait, you're American, aren't you? Don't you guys call them diapers over here?" I nodded nervously. "Yeah, that's right. Funny world we live in." She looked blankly into the sky. "Why can't we all just agree on one language, eh? That's what my dad always says. 'Make them politicians do something worthwhile, for once,' he'd say." I just smiled quietly and watched my shoelaces drift in the wind. "What about you? What are your parents like?" she asked kindly, with a crazy grin on her face. "Uh, my... uh... parents are divorced." She turned her face from one of glee to one of sadness. "Too bad, too bad. What's that like? Livin' with ya Mum and Dad in different places?" "Well, She works a lot of the time, and she doesn't see me very often. I think she loves her work more than me. Dad's an architect. He taught me how to build a bridge. I have a special one in my bedroom." "Jeez, I couldn't imagine if Mum left. She'd probably take me, though. She's always calling Dad a pathetic mongrel. Do you think that's bad?" "I don't know. I remember they took me to a lady for help or something, her name was, uh, Mrs Counselor?" She burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" "Counselor isn't a name, ya doofus, it's a job. You know, someone who helps counsel people on their problems? My uncle has to see one. He and Aunt Debbie go to help fix their marriage or somethin'." I nodded in understanding. She waited for me to say something for about a minute, then broke the silence. "Would you like to come over? Mum makes a great roast. Or maybe we'll have some bangers and mash. That's sausages and mashed potatoes, if you don't know." I said yes. "Maybe I can talk to my Dad about it. He might have to come though, he's very careful about who I meet." So I called my father. He was, however, previously engaged in some new design he was working on. He let me go, though, on the requirement that I told him where the house was so he could pick me up at six thirty. Sarah was overjoyed. "Awesome! Mum and Dad will be so happy to meet you. And I have a new friend! You're my friend, Michael! Do you know what that means? It means we can play together. Oh, yes, I have a new doll we can play with! Oh, you'll like her so much! Oh..." ******** The house was small. Not a lot to it, just a box with a second story. Sarah burst through the door first. "Daddy! We're home!" The place was well furnished, though clearly on a small budget. Carpet covered the place, from the kitchen (which was spared a few tiles behind a baby gate) to the staircase at the far end. Toys were scattered all over the floor, from baby blocks to a giant dragon plush in the corner. A small television from the sixties was sitting on a small wooden block in the corner. Sarah's mother guided her upstairs. I tried to follow, but was told to sit down and play games. I opened a box of Monopoly and started pulling out the money. "Woah, woah, there. Watcha' doin' pulling out my cash?" The man was standing on the stairs. "I... I didn't... sorry..." He smiled. "Ah, I'm kidding, buddy. No, feel free to play as you wish." "I... uh... I'm Sarah's friend." "Yeah, I imagined so. Nice to know she's got a friend. I'm her dad. Call me John." He thrusted his hand out and shook my hand hard. "Uh... okay." He got down on his legs. "D'ya know how to play?" "I... no-" I was interrupted by screams from above, Sarah's. She ran downstairs, tears flooding down her face. She was wearing a half-attached diaper around her tiny waist. John grabbed her as she ran past. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, munchkin? Why are you crying?" She sobbed into his blue shirt. "Mummy... she... she hurt me." "Oh, darling. I'm sure she didn't mean it. What happened?" "She... was... changing my nappy... and she... smacked me." She wrapped her arms around her father, drowning herself in tears. "Honey, it's okay, it's okay. Were you naughty? You know Mummy doesn't like you when you're naughty." "No!" The mother came dashing down the stairs, puffing. "I didn't hurt you, Sarah! Settle down!" The little seven year old wrapped her legs around father's hip. He stood up. "What happened, Trix?" "Nothing. She was kicking her legs when I was trying to change her. She kicked my in the tummy and I gave her a swat on her butt. It was soft, Sarah, for goodness sake!" That didn't stop the girl's wailing. She cried and cried, filling her face with as many tears as she could manage. Her father cleared his throat. Sarah calmed down. "Sarah, look at me. Look at me. Okay, now, did you kick Mummy while she was changing your nappy?" She stopped and wiped her eyes. "Yes, daddy." "Okay now. That hurt Mummy, look at her. She was trying to help you. What do you say when you hurt someone?" "Sorry, Mummy." "Good girl. Now go let Mummy finish your nappy, and then we can play." She nodded. John placed her gently on the floor, and she walked up to her mother. She hugged her. "I love you, Mummy." "I love you too, Sarah." They took each other's hand and walked upstairs. A few moments of silence followed. "Why was Sarah wearing a diaper?" I asked her dad. "Mate, it's a long story. Just know she can't control her bladder. Poor girl. The doctor said she could improve, but it's unlikely." "Why?" "She was hurt when she was in her mum's belly. Hurt her head and bladder. Poor little darling. Don't worry though. She's not sick, just hurt. We let her call us Mummy and Daddy, when I guess she should be saying Mum and Dad. Just helps her understand." "Will she get better?" "I don't think I should tell you that. Just promise you won't make fun of her? Please? She's never had a friend before." I looked at the TV. "I promise." "Good man. Now, what do you want to do now?" And that was how I learned about Sarah. She was a strong spirit, even back then. Now I think of her and hope she never loses it. ***************************************** That's the end of Chapter One. I'm planning out to name the chapters after Sarah's age at the point in the story, so this chapter is called 'Seven'. The next one, 'Eleven', is coming as soon as possible. Any advice and constructive criticism is welcome!
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