Mia Moore

Thank you so much for all the kind words!! I'm so surprised that people are able to put themselves in my worlds so easily. It really means a lot to me as a writer. ? I hope you continue to enjoy the stories moving forward! ~Mia~

Chapter Fourteen The week following Kione's tantrum through the Ever After Door, things started to improve. Color started to return to the playground: the clothes, the forts, the table cloths at meal times. Even the skin and hair of the Candies got their luster back. The sky changed from a dull grey to a faded blue, to a soft blue, and inevitably to a bright blue. The prickly green plastic grass grew soft and lush, and sometimes Kione wouldn't even wear her shoes. The weather, which had been either sweltering or frigid, had become temperate and calm. The food had changed from granola to poorly cooked canned foods, to fruits and vegetables, and ultimately a feast of a thousand kinds of cakes and cookies and wonderfully childish delights. Kione never asked the Matrons to use the bathroom again. She tried to plan her messy diapers just before bed, but it didn't always work out that way. She always had a pacifier clipped to her clothes and she didn't care when people called her a small Blueberry. Actually, blue was becoming Kione's favorite color. Every once in a while, she would eat the pink berries by the Chapel with her friends and have a funny loopy day that always ended in soaking wet diapers. But there was one thing that didn't get better: Angela. Any time Kione would see her, she would avoid speaking to her. She didn't know how to talk to her; what she could possibly say? But even then, in the light of the Priestess, she couldn’t forget that frizzy haired woman. One day, on an afternoon that felt longer than the rest, Angela approached Kione alone on the hill. Kione didn't see her coming, or maybe she would have ran. Or maybe not. "Hey," Angela said, sitting at Kione's side. "I..." Kione paused and bit her lip. "Um, who are you?" There was a long silence between the two before Angela spoke. "That was mean..." "I... I know," Kione muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm..." "Scared?" Angela asked. "Yeah..." Kione had been paying more attention to Angela, even when she didn't want to. Not only was she the only other Black woman here, but she was also the oldest. Considerably. She must have been in her forties, but the other Candies were no older than thirty. Kione had begun to wonder if maybe this had nothing to do with the Priestess; maybe it was an age thing. "That's okay," Angela finally said. "I understand. I forgive you. I'm just happy someone knows I'm here." Kione looked at her with befuddlement, but Angela was smiling. There was a long silence between the two of them. Kione wondered if she would be able to live here happily if only she could make Angela go away, like everyone else could. Over and over and over. An endless, reoccurring fate. Angela was destined to disappear. "You seem to be fitting in," Angela said, looking out at the blacktop. "Are you happy?" "Yeah, I am," Kione answered, but her lips were turned down in a frown. Was she really happy? Or was this all just another game? The Priestess offered her sanctuary from her hallucinations; it made Kione normal. But more than anything, more than filling her diapers and sucking on sippy cups and letting other people take care of her, it was that normalcy that made Kione unhappy. For years, Kione had struggled with her hallucinations. Her mental health was a part of her that she had to constantly keep in check, like a watchful parent over an errant toddler. Her brain would grab for danger, and she would slap its hand. She always thought that if she could be free of the responsibility, she'd be better off. If she could drop that toddler off at a playground somewhere and never look back. But here she was, sitting at a hill by the playground, wondering where her toddler went. Why did she feel so purposeless? Was she truly lamenting the lack of a disease? Shouldn't she be happy? "You don't look happy," Angela noted, a weary smile on her face. To Angela, just like it had once been for Kione, nothing looked particularly happy. But she could still spot a frown when she saw one. "You're doing everything right, aren't you? Everything they ask?" "Yeah..." Kione sighed and pulled her knees to her chest, flashing her diaper to the whole playground. It didn't even bother her anymore. Since she got here, Kione hadn't told anyone about her hallucinations. She mentioned her medication once or twice, but never what it was for. She didn't want to get into it. But there was something about Angela... maybe it was her age, but Kione felt like she'd be a good listener. "I used to see things," Kione admitted, "even before this place. It started when I was younger, in middle school. I worked my whole life to get my hallucinations under control, but this place... the Priestess... it feels like she's controlling them for me." "I see." Angela nodded and looked out at the playground. "I didn't have problems like that, not before coming here. But I understand what you mean. I'm not sure what's real and what isn't. One time a Candy told me the sky was red. Another said it was green. To me, it's always grey. Sometimes I feel like I can see the brush strokes." "Candy..." Kione muttered. Angela's story wasn't lost on her, but that word caught her attention again. "I swear, I've heard that before... before all this..." How did she get in that pink room, anyway? "Your hallucinations, could you tell me about them?" Angela asked. Kione didn’t know why she cared; actually, it seemed like she didn’t care at all. It seemed like Angela was only asking for Kione. "Usually crawly things?" she answered. "Like bugs or spiders on my skin. But sometimes... objects where they don't belong? Lights flashing when there aren't any? High pitched sounds, voices calling me, or a metallic taste in my mouth..." She hadn't spoken to anyone like this since her last therapist. That was years ago. "And have you had any of that since you've been here?" "I have, but..." Kione sighed. "I feel like I didn't have control over it. I have these tricks... mental gymnastics that I do. Grounding exercises. But here they don't work. The only thing that works is..." Kione nodded at the Priestess's door. She was the only salvation here. Angela paused to mull that over for a few moments, carefully selecting her next words. "What do you think gives her that power, do you think?" "I don't know, magic?" Kione said it as a joke, but the more she thought about it, the less likely she was to come up with any other kind of answer. She remembered what she first told Eli in the pink room. Where do you think you’re going, he asked. Wonderland, Kione had said. Was it all a dream? Angela must have noticed Kione's introspection, because she asked: "How do you usually handle your hallucinations?" "Uh..." Kione had to think about that. Everything was so second nature now. "Well, I use grounding exercises to find where I am. What I'm seeing, what I'm feeling, what I'm smelling, that kind of thing. Then I deduce what doesn't belong. And... I dunno. It gets easier to ignore it when I know it's not real." "Real? How do you define real?" "I dunno... like, what everyone else sees or hears." "Like the food they serve us here?" Angela asked. "Is that real?" "I... I'm not sure, I guess," Kione admitted. There were so many conflicting reports... "Or me?" Angela asked next. "Am I real?" That was the first time Kione wondered about Angela. She never hallucinated a person before, not a full one. People in crowds, sometimes. Someone standing in the corner of a room. But someone that spoke to her? Talked to her like this? Kione had seen others interact with her, for however brief a period. Or was that just another kid playing make believe? What was more likely; adults who acted like children, or someone that kept vanishing from peoples' memories? The answer was obvious. And yet... "It's tough, isn't it?" Angela only asked that once she saw Kione falter at the concept. Was the flaw in reality? Or in Kione? "I don't think it matters," Kione muttered, looking out at the playground. "If you're real or not, we're having this conversation. We're talking. I'm thinking about you. Isn't that what's important?" "And if you hallucinate some bugs crawling on you," Angela posited, "then it doesn't matter if those are real either. Either way, you'll choose to ignore them. You'll pretend they aren't real, and your anxiety will go down. Isn't that what's important?" Kione nodded slowly, looking at Angela out of the corner of her eye. Since middle school, Kione had been trying to discern reality from make believe, until this place. Here, it was imagination that triumphed. It was a place where anything could be anything. Was the real world that different? Couldn't a cardboard box always be a boat on the ocean, or a race car on the speedway? All her life, Kione's decisions and actions had been to find consensus with the people around her. When she got to the Kindergarten, she did it again. She chose the make believe world because that's what everyone else did. So she would fit in. So no one would worry about her. So she could act like she had everything under control. So what's important, Kione? she asked herself. Having everything under control? Or looking like it? Because the two didn't seem synonymous anymore. "Thanks for talking to me," Kione smiled. She'd been bottling up her thoughts for so long, she didn't even know what they were anymore. Even if Angela wasn't real, she'd done a great service for Kione. "Well, it's not much fun talking to Candies that don't remember what you say," Angela smiled, but her eyes were sad. "Candies..." Kione muttered again under her breath. "What are you thinking?" Angela asked. "I dunno... it's probably crazy..." Kione had no reason to believe her thoughts. They felt made up, like a conspiracy theory or something. There was no rhyme or reason; it went against everything Kione believed in. But she had a gut feeling, the same instinct that told her Angela wasn't imaginary. Kione learned a long time ago - even before her hallucinations - not to say something that she couldn't back up with evidence. But sometimes her hallucinations demanded exactly that. She remembered that man, the first memory she had in this place, and the room. Pink? Or green? She had to choose. Saying it would make it real. It didn't matter if the walls were actually green, they were pink to Kione. Sometimes the only way out of a situation is through it. Right or wrong, that wasn't important. What was important was getting out. "Candidates," Kione said firmly, making her choice. "I think that's what Candy stands for." "Candidates... for what?" Angela asked. "For... something..." Kione looked around the playground. The bright afternoon sun. The four playscapes perched on four hills. And sixty or so candidates. Angela’s question had been too broad, so she reeled it in a little: "Why do you think that?" Angela wasn't asking for evidence; she wanted Kione's perspective. "I think I've been here before..." Kione shook her head. "No, that doesn't make sense. I was somewhere else, kind of like this place." "Like a town?" Angela perked up attentively, but Kione shook her head. "I don't think so... more like a school? An academy?" Academy. That's right. That man asked where she was, and Kione told him 'The Academy'. She hadn't thought about it since, but the memory was right there, clear as day. "So what's the point of an academy?" Kione asked, speaking more to herself than to Angela. "To learn. To learn... something. They want us to learn something? What could they possibly—" Kione stopped mid sentence. Angela looked like she had a lot more to say, but she was drawn to the same sight as Kione. All the Candies were making their way to the Ever After Door in the center of the playground. With a glance at each other, Kione and Angela got off their butts and hurried toward the crowd.

Chapter Thirteen The entire day had been so overwhelming, more overwhelming than any hallucination Kione had ever had. Any time she thought too much about it, she felt like she would fall apart all over again. She didn’t want to feel the way she did in her room. She didn’t want to feel like she was dying. She didn’t want to eat bugs or feel fire in her veins. She wanted to be happy, and Zee was the only lifeline she had left. Phone a friend? No, this was 50/50. When Kione eventually stopped crying, Zee already had the answer to Kione’s unanswered question: what now? "The best thing you can do is act normal," Zee said. "We’re doing a Hopscotch contest, so let’s go play." A contest? That explained the gathering of adult-sized children on the far end of the playground. Everyone was there, everyone but Angela, Kione, and Zee. Zee took Kione by the hand and led her over to the crowd. "Everyone gets one round and whoever gets the most Completes wins," Zee explained as they walked. "Winning nation gets a hundred points." Kione still didn't understand the points, but a hundred sounded like a lot. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell who was on what team since all the clothes were still a stark white. "I'm glad you're here," Zee said. "We need as many players as we can 'cause we're in third place." Kione noticed four people standing on the edge of the ten-square Hopscotch board holding up their hands. One had six fingers up, one had five, one had three, and the last one had only one. The score-keepers no doubt. So the Blueberries had three points? "Um. You just um," Kione was still frazzled from crying. She never cried around other people, not like that. "You tell me what to do?" If Kione had played Hopscotch before, she certainly didn’t remember it. But she did have pretty good balance. Or, well, she did when she wasn’t wearing a diaper. Kione felt a pang of embarrassment and she tried to shake it away. You wear diapers, Kione, she said to herself. If you don't, you'll get forgotten. This is normal now. Pep talk over! "Well, do you know how to hop?" To demonstrate, Zee lifted one of their legs up off the ground and began to hop on the other with all the grace of a toddler. "Yeah... I'm pretty good at double dutch." Honestly, Hopscotch was always seen as kind of a baby's game; that was why Kione never really learned it. "Then you should be fine," Zee said. "Just watch Lamb." Kione watched a girl - Lamb - walk up to the line. A boy on the sideline gave her a stone, which she threw expertly onto the number '4'. "You can't step on the one with the stone," Zee explained. "So landing on a double is good 'cuz you don't have to jump super far." Kione nodded. The 4 and 5 were doubles. The 7 and 8 were also doubles. So if she dropped the stone on 4, that meant she could go straight from 3 to 5. That made sense. Lamb took a deep breath and hopped onto the Number 1 square on her right foot. Then she hopped to 2, 3, 5, 6, and planted both feet on 7 and 8 at the same time. One foot on 9, and two feet again on 10. Kione wasn't sure this was how the kids at her school played, but she wasn't about to argue. "So she got a Complete?" Kione asked, but the crowd wasn't yet cheering. "No, she's gotta go back and get her stone," Zee explained. A hop to 9 on one foot, two feet on 8 and 7, and a hop to 6, then 5. That's when Lamb stopped, balancing on one foot. Slowly, Lamb started to bend her knee and lean down, tilting her body to reach the stone on the number 4. But just as she touched the little rock, she lost her balance and tumbled onto the blacktop. Her dress flipped up, flashing her diaper to the crowd, and everyone laughed. Or rather, about three quarters of the audience laughed. "We really needed that point," Zee sighed as Lamb got up to her feet. "It's no fair!" she shouted, a burning blush on her cheeks. She flattened her dress as she spoke. "I wan' a do-over!" "Little baby Blueberries don't get do-overs cuz' they can't hop!" a boy yelled from the crowd. "Nuh uh!" Lamb yelled. "It was my shoes! I got tripped on my laces!" "You aren't even wearing laces," another girl yelled and three quarters erupted in laughter again. In a huff, Lamb stormed off the blacktop and sunk into the grass with a pout. "That's a lot of pressure," Kione muttered, rubbing her stomach. She wasn't feeling well, and the anxiety of the Hopscotch game didn't help. "If you believe in the Priestess, it'll all be okay," Zee said. "That's kinda like most things: the more you believe, the better things are. You can hop, and you knows the rules, and that's all you need. Faith an' Trust an' Pixie Dust, that's what they say." "I don't have any pixie dust..." Kione lamented. "Two outta three ain’t bad! Go get in line, we could really use a win...." Zee realized in that moment that they may have been putting a bit more pressure on Kione than they had intended, so they added: "But it's okay if we don't win." The line was a little longer than Kione would have liked. She watched a few more people try the Hopscotch challenge, trying to get an idea of the best way to handle it, but everyone had a different style. The easiest seemed to be landing on the 7 or 8, but that meant she could miss the throw entirely. Then she would have to go to the end of the line all over again. Maybe a closer number was safer... By the time it was Kione's turn, her stomach was churning. What she thought was only anxiety, she quickly realized was an urgency to use the bathroom. She wondered how she was supposed to get a diaper off with these stupid mittens on, but then she remembered the Chapel. She would lose an entire day... but it would be worth it. There was no way she was going to do that in her pants. "Kione." Robin was the one at the end of the line, calling her forward. She put the small stone in Kione's mittened hand and nodded toward the chalk drawing. With a fake smile, Kione walked up to the Number 1. How was she even going to pick this stone up with mittens on? It was truly the worst disadvantage. "Whoo! You can do it Kione!" Zee shouted from the sidelines. Kione checked the score: even if she succeeded, the Blueberries would only get second place. But she was going to do her best. With a deep sigh, she lightly tossed the rock. It bounced off one of the lines of the number 4 square and landed in the number 6 square. Six... she hadn't seen anyone land on a six. A quiet filled the playground as Kione hopped forward on one foot. She jumped to 2, 3, and finally two feet on 4/5. The hopping made her feel a little bit queasy and she felt a cramp in her stomach. She looked at the number 6 in front of her - the number she had to skip - and then at the next double: 7/8. So she could jump with both feet? Kione took a breath and swung her arms, launching herself forward and landing with her feet on the 7 and 8. She took a moment to catch her balance and let out a sigh of relief. Gosh. A hop to 9, a hop to 10. A few of the Blueberries from the crowd cheered and Kione turned around. She really had to use the bathroom, but in a few more jumps and she could run up to the Chapel. Hop to 9, two feet on 7 and 8. She looked at the stone in front of her and tilted her head curiously. What now? Could she just pick it up? "One foot," Robin called out, demonstrating by standing herself on one foot. Kione nodded and leaned all her weight on her right foot. Slowly, deliberately, she bent down, bending her knee and sticking her butt out in the air. Her stomach squished and cramped and Kione let out a whimper of discomfort. Everyone watched Kione struggle to pick up a tiny rock with two mittened hands. She couldn’t use her other arm to balance and she had to stop herself from toppling over multiple times. But with Kione's finesse - and a touch of beginner's luck - she grabbed the stone with both mittens and got back up on her feet. She put her other foot down on 8 and held up the stone. A few people cheered from the crowd and Kione smiled. Now she just had to make it back. With a deep breath, Kione leapt across the 6, planting her feet on the 4 and 5. But with the stone between her mittens, she couldn't swing her arms, and she had a lot less momentum when she landed. Kione tried to catch her balance, but she felt her weight shift. Before she knew what was happening, the ground rushed at her and and she tumbled back onto her padded butt, landing squarely in the 6. The shockwave rippled through her body and her stomach cried out in need. The sick, dizzy feeling multiplied and Kione realized just how desperately she needed to use the bathroom. It was all that stupid granola... The crowd erupted in laughter as Kione struggled to her feet, feeling slow and queasy. She waddled off the course toward the Chapel only to hear her name. Robin held out her hand. "The marker." "R-right..." Kione shuffled over to the leader of the Cherries and gave her the stone before hurrying into the crowd. But before Kione could get off the blacktop, Zee caught her by the mitten. "Hey, don't worry. We weren't going to win anyway." "Uh huh..." Kione muttered, looking at the Chapel on the hilltop. "You totally coulda done it if you weren't wearing those mittens, I swear. You should get bonus points for getting as far as you did." "S-sure... um... I'll be right back." Kione tried to pull away but Zee held her tight. "Where?" Zee asked. "I... just..." Zee looked at Kione, then at direction Kione was headed, at the Chapel. "No," Zee said simply. "Please!" Kione begged, dropping all pretense of what she needed to do. "I can't do that, not here, not in a diaper... please, I don't care if I lose a day..." "That's not why I'm saying no," Zee explained. "You want things to get better? Then you use your diapers. That's how it works. Stop trusting some dumb lessons you learned when you were two years old and trust the Priestess." Kione stared at Zee with a mixture of understanding and fear. She couldn't... she just couldn't! But... then she remembered the itchy bites and the beetles for dinner and Angela, alone and forgotten. She bit her lip. "...in my room," Kione muttered. "In the fort." "Here," Zee said. "In front of everyone. Not caring." "But..." "That's an order," Zee smiled, pushing Kione's pacifier between her lips. An order. An order from the Zee was an order from the Matrons was an order from the Priestess. And Zee made it clear that there was no room for negotiation, no room to wriggle out of it, no technicalities, no loopholes. Their word was absolute. The Priestess was absolute. The sky was grey, and the world was dim, and all of that had come from her staunch belief in herself and nobody else. That was what her arrogance had wrought. That was where she wound up, following rules that were set out when she was two years old. "I thought, maybe I—" Kione mumbled behind her pacifier, but her babbling voice trailed off when her eyes met with the eyes of someone on the Chapel hill. Sorrowful eyes. Angela's eyes. The woman who had been forgotten, the woman nobody could remember. The woman sitting alone on a hill while the rest of them played. Angela didn't listen or obey the Priestess, that much Kione knew for sure. Angela probably refused to wear her diapers, refused to wet them, refused to do what needed to be done. Refused to do this… "I don't want to be alone..." Kione babbled, but Zee understood her. They nodded. "That's why it has to be here, in front of everyone. Going to the potty takes such a long time, Kione. Even if you don’t go to the Matrons, you still gotta go all the way up the hill, all the way in the fort, all the way to your room, and then you’ll be alone there too. If you dun wanna be alone, then don’t be. Stay and play." Kione started to cry, because in her heart and her mind she knew that she had already made up her mind. Faith and fear had always been in tandem. Kione didn’t need to believe in the Priestess or in Zee or the magic door in the center of a circle of flowers. She just had to fear the alternative, and she did. The Kindergarten had fifty-nine Candies, including Kione, but truthfully, none of them cared what one little girl was doing. Only Zee watched, encouraging her all the way, as Kione filled the seat of her diaper. It bulged out in the back and grew between her legs, causing the diaper to sag under the weight. Kione didn't think one silly diaper would hold all the mess as she continued to push and push, as the diaper filled and filled, and her knees were pushed further and further apart. But when she was done - she was pretty sure she was done - the diaper was still taped around her hips and nothing had leaked out the legbands. Kione looked up at Zee with tear-filled eyes, frozen in place, too afraid to move. She sucked her pacifier as hard as she could to sate her anxiety, but all Kione's fears were unfounded. Zee leaned forward and kissed Kione on the forehead once again - just like the Matrons - and Kione noticed the faded blue accents in their clothes. Not just Zee's clothes, but her own clothes too. All the clothes. With every step up the hill to her home, Kione struggled with the shame of it all. When she got to this place, she was an adult. She had a real job, a real life. She was happy, for the most part. Sure, she had some symptoms she could never fully manage, and sure she was lonely at times, but she was making a difference. Now she was just a pacifier-sucking baby girl with a full diaper. So then... why wasn't she scared? Why did this feel... okay? Crawling through the tubes in a stinky diaper was a test of endurance, but it was also a demonstration in acclimatization. By the time she arrived with Zee in her bedroom, Kione didn't mind the smell so much. Whatever they put in her food - whatever she was truly eating - it was just stinky enough to remind her of what she'd done, but not enough to be overbearing. It would even be convenient if she came to like it. "Sweet dreams, Kione," Zee said with a smile. But Kione was quick to panic. "No, wait! I... I need you here. You can't go..." "You don't need me here," Zee told her. "You're doing fine. The Priestess will keep you safe." "But what about..." Kione paused and looked at her dress. "I can't... um... the mittens..." "Oh." Zee nodded in understanding. "Nobody changes, Kione. Just go to sleep. You'll be clean in the morning." "Sleep? But..." All the while, Kione had been talking around her pacifier, which she continued to suck without thinking. "Just try," Zee said, and left Kione alone in her room. Kione sighed and went over to the bed. She kicked off her shoes, but it seemed like she was going to sleep in her dress tonight. With a sigh of resignation, Kione sat down without thinking. The mess in her diaper squished against her skin and a shiver ran up Kione's spine. In a panic to avoid that feeling any longer than she had to, Kione fell backward on the bed and laid flat on her back. "Ew, ew, ew..." Kione muttered behind her pacifier. "How am I supposed to sleep like this?" But then she answered her own question aloud. "Because it'll happen again. So I should get used to it." On her back, lying perfectly still... well, it wasn't that bad. She squished her thighs together and the smell in the room got a little worse. Then, with a bit of discomfort, she managed to roll onto her side. The thickness between her legs was awkward and unusual, but Kione knew by morning that it would all be gone. A fresh diaper. The sooner she fell asleep, the sooner it would come. When Kione really tried to relax, she realized that the whole day had been pretty exhausting. The darkness, the pain, the fear, the torture... for once, it was in her control. As long as she let someone else take care of her, she never had to feel those things again. That night, shortly thereafter, Kione fell asleep with a pacifier in her mouth and a very messy diaper taped around her hips.

Chapter Twelve "We're gonna go play now," Zee said after the meal was over. With a sigh, Kione got up from the table. A lot of the Blueberries had already left, since Zee and Kione had arrived late to dinner. But just as the two started down the hill, Kione noticed that girl from before. Angela, was it? She was sitting alone at the Limes table and breaking one of the granola bars into tiny little pieces. "Hey, um... Zee? What's her deal?" Zee tilted their head, taking a hard look at Angela. "I dun think I know her," they finally said. "Really...?" Kione thought back to earlier that day, when she first met Angela. Had Zee noticed her standing there? "C'mon. We're in a hurry." Zee pulled Kione down the hill and out of sight of the girl. The air was cold and the grass crunched like plastic. The sound was abrasive and caused Kione to scratch at her arms. "So is she new or something?" Kione asked. "Who?" "Uh... Angela. The girl up there." "I dunno an Angela," Zee said simply. "And I know ever'body." "What are you talking about? We were just talking about her. The Black woman?" Zee tiled their head in confusion, looking Kione up and down. "The other Black woman," Kione tried again. There was a Black boy in the Cherries, but Kione and Angela were the only girls as far as she could tell. Maybe it had something to do Kione's upbringing, but she always felt a little more comfortable seeing someone that looked like her. "Kione..." Zee's face looked serious for a moment. "If you're seeing somebody nobody else sees, tha's just badness trying to steal you away from the Priestess. Dun let it." "But..." Kione could have sworn Zee saw her. They said they didn't know who she was. What was going on here? Kione itched harder at the bug bumps until she broke the skin. Little dots of blood raised to the surface of her arms, and the second Kione noticed it felt like her blood was made of fire. A whimper turned into a wail and tears filled her eyes. It hurt so much. "Oh gosh, oh goodness," Zee panicked. "Um, uh… the Matrons will fix it." When in doubt, the Matrons would always fix it. Zee led Kione back up to the top of the hill, but when they arrived the food and tablecloths were gone. Thankfully a Matron was waiting at the door to the Chapel. Kione was already a blubbering mess. "Matron, Matron!" Zee shouted, getting her attention. The Matron hurried over to the sobbing adult and looked at her arms. "Goodness," the Matron said. "Looks like you really did a number on yourself, hm? Let's get you cleaned up and I'll make sure you can't hurt yourself like that again." Kione didn't know what the Matron was talking about, but she really didn't care. It felt like she had been shot in the arm. Or stabbed. It was worse than anything she had ever felt, and she couldn't stop crying. The Matron took Kione by the hand and led her into the Chapel. The air inside felt cold and prickly, like ice with all the electricity of an oncoming thunderstorm. The world spun under Kione’s feet. Only the pain in her arm grounded her. "Calm down, my little one," the Matron cooed, rummaging around in her robe for a wash cloth. "Even those who have wandered far from the path will find love afforded to them. You didn't mean to harm the Priestess's property, did you?" Kione screamed as the warm wash cloth touched her skin. "I jus'... it itched and... um… please fix it..." Kione begged. "You're closest to the Priestess, right? Zee said you can fix it... please put everything back to the way it was…" She wiped her eyes with her free hand to stop the tears, but they returned in torrents. It took everything Kione had not to scream at the top of her lungs. "Mm, I'm afraid that it may not be quite that simple, my dear," the Matron explained. "With broad gestures you can take yourself out of the light and into the valley, but like all falls it takes quite a bit more effort to return to where you started." "I wanna be good," Kione babbled through her tears. She didn’t even know what she was saying, but she needed everything to go back to normal. "I wanna be a good girl, I'll do anything... anything for the... for the Priestess. I'm good, please..." "Then you'll follow the Priestess's will... our will." The Matron was cryptic about it, but Kione knew what she meant. "Zee..." Kione muttered. "Yes. You keep listening to your leader and you will find the world a much better place. Obeying Zee is obeying us. Obeying us is obeying the Priestess. And through obedience, you'll find deliverance." Kione nodded, though she didn't fully understand. Maybe that was part of religion: faith in what you couldn't understand. If all she had to do to fix everything was listen to Zee... "Okay," Kione muttered, wiping her tears away. The Matron put a bandage over the scratches and kissed it. Like magic, all the pain Kione felt vanished in an instant, but the memory lingered in her skin. It felt like all that pain was only seconds away, like it could come back with just wrong move. Kione was trembling. "Alas," the Matron said, "you can't seem to stay out of trouble. So I'll help you." "I..." Kione's instincts were dull, but they were present, like an idea with no ambition. She felt the spark of fire inside herself to question, to ask, to argue, to take control. But like a spark without a fuse, there could be no flame. Kione nodded quietly. One hand at a time, the Matron slipped pretty blue colored mittens onto her hands; the type where all the fingers were pressed together, and the padding felt as thick as her diaper. The Matron pulled on the laces threaded through the mitten, methodically tightening them and tying them in a pretty bow. After finishing the first, the Matron dressed Kione’s other hand the same way. "Now you can't harm the Priestess's property," The Matron smiled. "Now I can't harm the Priestess's... property..." Kione mumbled, softly. "Your mittens are so pretty." The Matron continued. Truthfully, the mittens were gorgeous. In that moment, they were the brightest blue in the entire world. Everything was so washed out, so saturated, but her mittens... With a turn and a push, Kione was ushered back out onto the hill. The sky was so dark, she couldn't tell what was nighttime and what was daytime. But down below, kids were still playing. She looked around for Zee, but she didn't find them. Instead, Kione found that girl - Angela - sitting at the table. With no one else to keep her safe, she hurried over to talk to her. "Hey," Kione muttered, holding up a mittened hand in greeting before quickly hiding it behind her back. Heat rose to her cheeks. Her eyes were still red from crying. Angela looked up at Kione with disinterest and sighed. All the same, she gave an impassioned, "Hey." "You're Angela right?" Kione asked, sitting across from her. "I'm Kione." Angela looked up at Kione like she had said something surprising. Was her name familiar? But it wasn't Kione's name that shocked Angela - it was Angela's. "You know me?" Angela asked dumbfounded. "I... well, no. I mean, I know your name from... uh... earlier..." Kione sat on her mittened hands, unsure of what to say. "You remember that?" Angela asked, continuing her line of odd questions. "Yes?" Kione said, looking nervous. "Why wouldn't I?" "Well..." Angela said, "because no one remembers me." "What do you mean nobody remembers you?" Kione turned her head to the side, curiously. It wasn't one of her usual mannerisms, but with her hands locked away she had to improvise. "I mean," Angela said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "that nobody remembers me. You'd think I'd get used to having to repeat myself, but here I am, still kicking up a stink about it. Hah." "I don't understand..." Kione muttered, trying to make sense of what Angela was saying. Was it just a game? A silly thing that the Candies were doing now? "Ever since I got here, everyone forgets me," Angela said flatly. "They look at me, they introduce themselves, and then when they walk away, they forget we ever met. I've introduced myself to you at least three times since you showed up. We walked back to your fort together." "We... have...?" Kione shook her head. No, she had never met this girl before today. This was just a stupid joke. But Zee... they didn't remember Angela either, did they? Maybe they were playing too...? "At first, I thought everyone was messing with me," Angela sighed. "I thought they were being mean... but you notice stuff after a while. The way people look at you... the way they look at someone they've never met. There's something there, something undefinable. They really don't remember." "How long does it take for people to forget you?" Kione was looking for holes in Angela’s game, something to prove she was faking it, but with everything else that had happened today was this really so unbelievable? "When someone gets distracted," Angela shrugged, "or they stop thinking about me." Kione's empathy game was strong, and she could easily see how defeated Angela felt. Maybe this wasn't a joke... "One time, I was talking to someone and a friend called out to them. They turned around for just a moment or two, and when they turned back to me they introduced themselves again." "Well we can talk to the Matrons about it," Kione said helpfully. "They forget too. It takes them longer than those kids, sometimes a few minutes, but you can’t keep someone on your mind for very long." That crashed Kione's thought process. She had been thinking of the Matrons as almost all-powerful; after all, they seemed to appear and disappear at will. If they couldn't remember Angela... what did that mean? That Angela was more powerful than the Matrons? Or was she a snake in the garden? What if Zee was right about Angela? "But you remembered me," Angela interrupted Kione's thoughts. "That's... new..." Kione considered that. She covered her eyes with her mittened hands and took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut for good measure, and then opened up and moved her hands. "Hi Angela," Kione said, proving to the both of them that Kione still remembered her. Angela didn't look that impressed, and the whole display had all the hallmarks of someone who had been here just long enough to start assimilating. Angela had seen it before, more times than she could count. "Hi Kione," Angela sighed. Kione was reeling at the idea of someone the Matrons couldn't remember. Was this another Priestess thing? Then Kione thought of a question: "What color is the sky?" "Uh... grey?" Angela answered, looking curiously at Kione. "Then maybe, um..." Kione paused to think. "Maybe this is a punishment? Maybe if you put your faith in the Priestess..." But if that was the case, it had broader implications. If they could erase Angela from everyone's memories, then couldn't they do the same to Kione? A panic rose in Kione's chest. The chittering of the bugs, the itching, the stabbing pain and the fire in her blood, the crunch of that granola as she bit into the beetle, it was all too much and all too new. She couldn’t live like that. She couldn’t keep talking to Angela. "I have to go," Kione said quickly, climbing up from the table. "I'm sorry, I... I have to go." Before Angela could say anything else, Kione ran down the hill. The sharp plastic grass crunched under her feet and the grey swirly sky loomed overhead like a dark fate. By the time Kione made it to the bottom of the hill and found Zee, she had tears in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Zee as tightly as she could and cried into their shoulder. "Please fix it... please help me fix it..." For a moment, Zee was frozen in surprise. Then they patted Kione on the back for comfort. "I will, you just have to do er'rything I do. And listen to er'rything I say. And no more questions, or pouting, or arguing. You jus' have to do it." Kione nodded. She wiped her eyes on Zee's pretty blue top, like a crying baby, and nodded her head over and over and over. "Anything, I'll... I'll do anything, I dun' wanna stay bad, I dun' wanna be forgotten. I want colors, and I want to play, and I wanna be good, okay?" "Okay." Zee kissed Kione on the forehead like the Matrons did and suddenly things didn't feel so scary.

Omg thank you so much!!!!!! ? I think that sometimes people forget that the whole "forced babying" trope is also a little bit scary. So I like moments like this where I can remind the readers "hey, this IS a terrifying place... don't forget that". It adds another level beyond wish fulfillment. Thank you so much for reading and thank you SOOOO much for leaving a comment!! I swear, comments are like food for niche kink writers. I'm really sad to see forum culture fading away. ? ~Mia Moore~

Chapter Eleven Kione stumbled into the flower bed on the other side of the door. She looked behind her in surprise, looked at the door decorated in children's drawings, at the ornate handle, the frame, and the fact that she'd just walked through... what was, in all regards, just a free standing door frame. Zee stood at a distance, frozen in place with their hands over their mouth. But they didn't look right. They were paler, and their hair was lacking its usual shine. Their clothes were a stark white, with no color. No blue lines or accents. Kione didn't understand what was going on. Kione turned to see the rest of the adult children, all of them muttering and staring. All of their clothes were white. Even the pinkness in Kione's own palms seemed like it was gone. Kione looked up at the cloudless grey sky. It ebbed and swayed in a sickly way, like it was moving. Even when Kione looked away from the sky, she still felt nauseous, like the world was rocking back and forth. She was so disorientated. But one thing caught Kione's eye: a woman with tangled black hair standing just outside the flower ring. She was wearing white clothes, just like everyone else, but Kione had never seen her before. She had darker skin and wrinkles around her eyes. "Who are you?" Kione asked. "Angela," the woman sighed, like she had said her name a thousand times before. "But it doesn't matter." "Kione!" Zee had finally moved from their spot, rushing over to Kione's side and taking her hands in theirs. "Oh what did you do, Kione, no no no..." Zee’s eyebrows were pushed together in distress and some others began to get closer. Kione could hear their comments, their whispers, their judgments. "She was rejected by The Priestess." "She broke the Rule." "So selfish." "Stupid." "Silly." "Why would she?" "What a shame." "Poor Kione." "Poor Zee..." Finally, Zee had enough of the whispers and mumbles. They tugged on Kione's hand and led her away from the Ever After Door and away from the crowd. "This is bad, this is bad, this is so so so bad, Kione…" The tone in Zee’s voice was one of abject fear, but Kione didn’t understand. Every step wobbled and churned, like Kione was walking on an inflatable world. By the time she got to the grass, it didn't even look real. It looked like fake grass made of sharp plastic, the kind you could buy at the store. An annoying buzz filled Kione's ears and she felt little stings on her bare arms and legs. Hallucinations, it had to be hallucinations. She just had to breathe... to ground herself. Five things she could see: the shifting grey sky, the fake sharp grass, the sickly looking toddler holding her hand, the foreboding hill in front of her, and the still-open door far behind her. Four things she could touch: Zee's rough hand in hers, the itchiness all up her arms and legs, the chill air brushing up against her cheeks, and the stiff white clothes clad to her body. Three things she could hear: the cacophony of anxiety and uncertainty from the children below, the crinkling echo of hers and Zee's diapers, and the awful buzzing of insects she couldn't see. Two things she could smell: the leftover scent of old petals from the ring of flowers, and a faint hint of ammonia. One thing she could taste: metal, on the tip of her tongue, like she was licking something she shouldn't. But things didn't feel better; they might have even felt worse. She couldn't shake this one, and it was building into a storm. "I need my medicine," Kione panicked. "I need, um... I need to get out of here... please..." Kione tugged at Zee's hand, trying to break free of their grip. "You don't, you... you can’t. You've fallen out of The Priestess's gaze; she can't see you anymore because you ran away from her." Zee held firmly onto Kione’s hand, even as Kione's panic started to swell. "Let's get you to your room and we can talk abouts it." But as Kione looked upward at the Blueberry Nation fort - a once colorful playscape of tubes of bright plastic corridors - all she could see now was dark grey claustrophobia. "Please... please I can't... I can't..." Tears filled Kione's eyes as Zee pushed her forward, toward the first tube. But Kione wouldn't go inside. "I'm in charge," Zee tried, but Kione shook her head in a fit. "No, you're not! I can handle it... I just need... I need to..." Kione's crying was quickly devolving into hyperventilating. She scratched at her arms so roughly that it left lines on her skin. "That's your problem," Zee said as sternly as they could muster. "You can't handle it. I'm gonna fix it, but you gotta let me.” Kione shook her head over and over, squeezing herself tight. The buzzing of bugs sounded so loud. “Kione." Zee spoke firmly, but with love; the way they often heard from the Matrons. "This happens sometimes. Some Candies lose sight of the Priestess and everything gets scary... I've been there, I know what you're going through." Kione looked at Zee with confusion and awe. They... knew what was happening? But these were just hallucinations... these were Kione's problems. How could Zee know anything? "I can help... let me help..." Zee reached out slowly and pulled Kione's hands from her arms, just in time to stop her from drawing blood. Kione looked at her red-tipped fingers with tears in her eyes. She looked so lost. "We're going home," Zee said cautiously, testing the waters, "up to your room. Everything prolly looks real scary right now, real real real scary, but... but you remember how it used to look? All bright and lovely and wonderful? It can look that way again. Colorful and soft and everything good. Will you trust me, Kione?" Kione looked at Zee with a furrowed brow and tear-filled eyes. She didn't trust Zee, not really. What could they do? But Kione saw the world behind Zee: the grey sky, the plastic ground, the overgrown children looking up at her, and... and Kione realized that she had no better option. It was literally her last resort. "Okay..." Kione nodded softly and Zee led her by the hand into the plastic tube. Kione followed as the chattering of bugs scurried around the tube, on the outside. Every so often, Kione would stop to scratch her arms or her legs or her neck. Sometimes she would stop and put her cheek against the tube because she knew that if she tried to move again she would simply throw up. Somewhere along the way, defeat set in. Surrender. Kione whispered to herself, muttering how she couldn't fix it, how she was broken for good, how she would rather die. But after a long while, after crawling through literal Hell, Kione and Zee found their way to Kione's room. "It's berry important," Zee told her, "that you show humbleness, that you show commitment, and that you show devotion. The Priestess isn't looking right now, but when she is, you want to be giving your best so she notices you. For now, let's get you into bed, get you binkied, and I'll cuddle with you." Kione didn't want to cuddle, but the world had become a very scary place in a very small about of time, and there were to things Kione didn’t want above all else: 1.) she didn't want to leave this room and 2.) she didn't want to be alone. So when Zee put the pacifier between her lips and laid her down in bed, Kione didn’t protest. She was in stormy seas, and she didn't know if she would ever see the shore again. Kione didn't sleep and neither did Zee. Kione picked and scratched and cried and Zee held her hands to keep her from hurting herself. Every so often, Zee would tell Kione to say something or do something, and Kione would reluctantly obey. "Give me your hand." "Say 'I'm cute'." "Suck harder on your binky." At first, Kione didn't understand or care about anything Zee was saying, but that didn't matter. Zee was buying time. As Kione's panic attack went on and on and on, she grew more and more exhausted. She struggled to think straight. She could hardly move, let alone scratch herself. Her tears had run out long ago. "Say 'I'm a little girl'," Zee whispered. "...I'm a... little girl..." Kione couldn't argue; she didn't have the energy. But the uncertainty was clear in her voice nonetheless. "I'm in charge of you," Zee explained. "That's a rule. The Matrons make the rules, and the rules lead us down the path of the Priestess. So every time you do what I say, you're going to feel a teeny teeny bit better." "...I don't... think..." Kione's eyes were half closed, but she still couldn't breathe right. "I know you don't believe me," Zee said, "but you will. You'll see. And when I tell you to do stuff the Priestess would like, things will get better faster." "How do... you know..." Kione closed her eyes tight to avoid throwing up. Every few minutes, she'd get so nauseous that throwing up would feel inevitable, but she never did. "Leaders are the closest to the Priestess," Zee answered. "We are chosen because we know what's best." Kione didn't believe them, but what harm was there in pretending? If they truly were right... "You gotta tinkle, right?" Zee asked. "Just go." Kione felt a bit of heat on her cheeks and shook her head. Certainly not. "The Priestess wants us to be free... free from 'sponsibility an' dumb stuff. Bathrooms get in the way of having fun. Think about all the time you waste getting up and finding one and sitting there and getting dressed and undressed..." It must have been the delirium, but Zee was actually making some sense. "Why does it matter where you tinkle?" Zee asked. "Why does it matter if you're smol or the babiest? Why does any of that matter if you could be happy?" Happy... the concept felt so foreign to Kione in that moment. She couldn't remember what happy felt like. But she knew that her bladder was full and it made everything so uncomfortable. Why did she choose to be uncomfortable...? "Just go," Zee encouraged. Without a good reason to argue, Kione did. It had been so many hours - hours that felt like days - since Kione felt anything that didn't contribute to her agony. But for just a moment, wetting herself was more than shame and fear... it was relief. As the warmth spread through her diaper, she felt good. "Doesn't it makes you feel nice, Kione?" Zee smiled. "That's what it feels like to be good, to be a good girl. And the Priestess notices especially when you're good, and especially specially when you're trying. And trying is berry important, up until when you don't need to try anymore and it's just natural." Curled up to an overgrown toddler, having wet her diaper, and filled head to toe with exhaustion, Kione started to nod off. Zee continued whispering truths into Kione's ear, but they fell silent as she drifted off to sleep. When Kione came to, maybe an hour later, maybe the next day, she was alone in her room. The walls were filled with the sounds of skittering bugs, and the bright blue plastic walls were lit dimly in low saturation. But at least the diaper around Kione's hips was dry. "Zee...?" Kione said out loud, too nervous to get out of bed. What if the floor fell out beneath her? What if the bugs found their way into the room? Kione started scratching the bites on her arms again. "Please... please Zee..." Somewhere far away, Kione heard a bell ring. Was that food? Kione knew she was supposed to be hungry, but the sickening nausea was too much to even stomach the idea. She was going to starve... she was going to die here... "Kione?" Zee's voice reached her from inside the tube in the wall. Kione could just see their face as they crawled in. "Come on. Dinner time." "I... I can't..." Kione felt fresh tears in her eyes. "You can. You will, because I told you too. Remember, that's how you find your path back to the Priestess. You gotta listen." Kione stared awkwardly at the overgrown child in the greyish blue tube and then down once again at the floor. She wasn't having a panic attack anymore, but the hallucinations were still in full swing. But were they truly hallucinations? Zee said they had them before... "Kione," Zee said a little more sternly. "Now." With reluctance and boundless fear, Kione slid off the bed and touched her shoes to the plastic floor. It didn't break. Nervously, she made her way to the tube until she was only inches from Zee. Zee smiled at her. "Good girl," they said, and led the way out of the maze of tunnels. "Good girl," Kione repeated under her breath and followed along. "It's so easy to be good, you just gots to do what I say. The Matrons are the closest to the Priestess, and they put me in charge. That makes it so I’m closest to the Priestess too." Zee was explaining as the two of them made their way out of the Blueberry home base, but Kione found it hard to focus. Words ran together. Colors weren't right. She felt sick. But listening to Zee was her only way out, wasn't it? Her eyes didn't have to adjust when Kione stepped out of the tunnel; the sky was dim, grey, and unhappy. "I dunno... about this... about any of this..." Kione was barely speaking above a whisper, but Zee heard her all the same. Zee stepped up to her and pushed a new pacifier between Kione's lips, clipping it to her shirt. The old one was probably still in Kione’s bed. "Don't think," Zee said. "Just do what you're told and it'll get better." Kione sucked the pacifier and nodded her head. What other choice did she have? She couldn't live like this... she would do anything it took to get better, just like the first time. The difference was, this time someone wanted to help her. Zee held Kione's hand and together they walked down the Blueberry hill and up the one to the Chapel. When they got there, Kione saw the same four tables, the same few dozen kids, but one thing was different... the foods on the table were writhing and chittering. Kione watched as the Candies would take handfuls of beetles and shovel them into their mouths, spilling carapaces and antennae on the grey tablecloths. She felt panic rising in her chest. "I can't... I can't do this..." Kione tried to pull her hand out of Zee's. "You have to be good and listen, okay? You have to trust The Priestess." But despite Zee's reassurances, Kione's panic was only bubbling over. "Kione," Zee said sharply, or as sharp as an oversized toddler in a diaper could possibly sound. "You trust me, right?" Kione shook her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. She didn't trust them. She didn't trust anything, least of all herself. To make matters worse, Kione's crying was starting to draw attention from the other Candies. "There's nowhere that's safe," Zee told her, trying to ignore the onlookers. "You go back to the fort alone and it's gonna be worse. Your only way to the Priestess is with me. Your only salvation is me." Kione looked up at her senior, at her leader, and wiped the tears from her eyes. They stung her skin like acid. "Trust me?" Zee offered again, holding both of Kione's hands in theirs. This time, against all odds and her better judgement, Kione nodded. Zee pulled Kione by the hand over to the Blueberry's table. Zee sat her down and took a seat next to her on the bench. Kione looked at the bowls of bugs with a sickening knot in her stomach. She couldn't... "It's a test," Zee explained, but it didn’t make Kione feel any better. "You gotta trust me, and trust the Priestess." Zee grabbed a bowl of beetles and placed it in front of Kione. Kione was never a very religious person, and that was the reason. Why would the Priestess test her? Why would she cause Kione harm? Why would any deity make her feel like that? But Kione had also lived her entire life under the attack of her own brain. She had fabricated so many sights and sounds that had terrified her. Had hurt her. Why would any person make themselves feel like that? And yet Kione had faith. She learned every grounding technique the internet had to offer. She went to school to learn more about her hallucinations, and she dedicated herself to a career where she could help others like her. She staved off her problems on faith alone: faith in reason and faith in a few books. But in that moment, no matter how many grounding techniques Kione tried, she couldn’t make it go away. The only thing that helped was Zee. The only thing that helped was the Priestess. Kione took a breath and picked up one of the beetles. It kicked its little legs, trying to escape the inevitable. Kione closed her eyes and put her faith in something else for a change. Kione bit down with a crunch and chewed with her back teeth. She didn't want to taste it, but the flood of flavors was inevitable. Or rather, flavorlessness. It tasted kind of like granola. The chittering had stopped. Kione opened her eyes and saw that the plates and bowls on the table were filled with flat bars of oats. She looked at the granola bar in her hand with a bite taken out of it. Though Zee couldn't see what Kione was seeing, they could see the surprise on her face. "It got better, didn't it?" they asked. "It got better because you trusted the Priestess. You put your faith in her." "I did not..." Kione muttered between bites of granola bars, maybe in some last ditch effort to preserve some dignity. But the truth was, she had. That was a truth she couldn't ignore, no matter how she denied it. The rest of dinner was uneventful. Even the itchy bumps on Kione's arms and legs were less annoying. Kione ate six granola bars and drank two sippy cups of juice, knowing full well she would have to wet herself again before bedtime. But diapers seemed like the least of her problems. The sky was still so dark, and the colors of the other Candies were so muted. Kione felt like the world itself was angry at her.

Chapter Ten The morning went smoothly. Kione ate breakfast, drank a lot of juice to sate her thirst, and even socialized with a few of the other Blueberries. But as breakfast was wrapping up, Kione noticed Ellie heading down the hill in a bright red dress. Quickly, Kione got to her feet and hurried after her. "Ellie!" By the time that Kione caught up with her, even though she was running down hill, the constant battle to stop from tumbling over from the thick padding between her legs meant that Kione was completely out of breath. "Ummm... hi?" The girl in the pretty red dress looked Kione up and down with a curious expression on her face. "It's me, Kione. From uh... that Joining thing. Remember?" "Oh, yeah!" Recognition spread across Ellie's face. "You're the other new kid." "Something like that," Kione laughed, rubbing the side of her head. She didn't think 'kid' was the appropriate noun there, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "So you were taken by the Cherries?" "Yeah, it was terrifying..." Ellie sighed. "I barely slept a wink last night..." "Zee says you probably won't get abducted again, if it helps any..." Kione sure hoped Zee was right. "So, how are you... uh... holding up?" "Oh, you know..." Ellie looked a little uncomfortable and looked down at her feet. Kione couldn't tell if she was diapered or not; her dress was too loose and she hadn't been watching her walk. Suddenly, Kione grew a little self conscious and tried to hide the pacifier clipped to her shirt. "Y-yeah..." Kione nodded in agreement, shyly. Awkwardly. "What's it like? What have you been up to? The Limes live in a big treehouse, and the Blueberries are in a big plastic maze." "Oh," Ellie nodded, "Well I got picked by the Bananas that first day, and they live in a big wooden playground fort, like, it's soooo big. I was worried about splinters, but I didn't get any. Lots of slides, too, and monkey bars and stuff. But it was all on the ground, not like... up in a tree." Kione didn't think she'd care quite so much about this, but from a strict curiosity standpoint, it was really interesting. The forts were barely visible from the blacktops, and standing on her own hill she could only make out the rough shapes and themes of the other Nations. "What about the Cherries?" Kione couldn't help but ask. "We live underground in little hidey homes, like... like in The Hobbit? Or like bears?" "Is it dirty?" "No, not really. Everything is covered in plastic, but it gets kind of dark." The two of them stood awkwardly side by side. Neither of them moved. Kione didn't even know what to ask; how could she explain any of this? And whose side was Ellie on? The Cherries and Blueberries were enemies, but everyone played so well together on the playground. "I don't know how to get out of here," Kione said, testing the waters. "The Matrons seem to vanish, and the grass looks like it goes on forever..." "I tried leaving my first day," Ellie sulked. "You can walk all you want, but you don't go anywhere." The thought had crossed Kione's mind, but she had written it off as ‘too easy’ early on. She was happy to have some validation in her theory, and now she knew her and Ellie were on the same page. "We'll figure it out," Kione smiled. "At least we've got each other, right?" But Ellie didn't look like that brought her any relief. "The Cherries say..." Ellie looked uncomfortable with what she was saying, and she looked over her shoulder almost nervously before lowering her voice. "They say that Blueberries are too far gone and that if we want to have a hope of going through the Ever After, then...well..." "Oh..." Kione mumbled softly, and rubbed her arm. "The Blueberries seem really nice?" "They're the smallest, Kione, and everybody says they're pretty much going to be here forever." That didn't make any sense to Kione, though. Wasn't the point here to be small? The diapers, the pacifiers, wasn't that what it all meant? "I don't understand?” Kione admitted. "You wouldn't," Ellie sighed, crossing her arms. "We're allowed to play with you, but we can't be friends. We're kind of like... babysitters, I guess?" Kione balled her hands tight around the pacifier she was trying to hide and scowled at Ellie. Babysitters? Really? "Yeah, so I guess you don't wear diapers either, huh? Because you just love missing out on entire days of your life?" Kione knew it was a low blow; Ellie had been so upset when she realized how long she had been away. "Of course we wear diapers," Ellie said simply. "Because that's the responsible thing to do. That's how you act like a big kid, Kione. You wear your diapers, you trust the Matrons, and you earn points for your Nation. You don't throw a tantrum and wind up losing a day, or have to spend time in the Chapel getting babysat. That's Blueberries behavior. Or Limes. Not Cherries." "You're just doing what you're told because you don't know what else to do," Kione shot back. "You keep 'othering' me and my team because you're too scared to think you're in the same boat. It's not brave or grown up to rationalize your actions.” "Yeah well..." Ellie crossed her arms and took half a step backward. It was hard to win an argument with Kione when she got fired up; years of psychology classes and doctors that thought they knew better than her made sure of that. "Yeah well what?" Kione shot back. "Are you going to say something about how I'm a Blueberry and I wouldn't get it?" "I was going to apologize," Ellie said sharply. "But you’re such a brat, you don’t deserve it." Then she turned and walked down the hill. "You’re the brat!" Kione called after her. Kione could see quite plainly that Ellie was waddling. Actually, she was waddling more than most... more even than Kione. Was she in a thicker diaper? Or was Kione just better at walking in diapers than she thought? "Well, that didn't go as planned," Kione muttered to herself in irritation. She fiddled with the clip on the pacifier and removed it from her shirt, throwing it down in the grass and walking away. Kione continued to mumble and mutter to herself until she found a place near the blacktop to sit down, and only a sharp sting on her left elbow made her stop grumbling. "Ow..." Twisting her arm to the side, to the left, and to the right, Kione did her very best to look at what had caused her the momentary pain, but she couldn't quite get the angle she needed. Puffing out her cheeks, she rubbed the area with her other hand and felt a little warm bump starting to form. Had something bitten her? In all her time at the Kindergarten, Kione hadn't even seen a bug. "You wanna play?" a girl’s asked. Kione looked up at two people she had never met before. A Banana and a Blueberry, by the looks of it. Both of them were girls. Kione remembered that it was more common for boys to play with boys and girls to play with girls. "Pass," Kione muttered, sulking into the grass. It felt prickly, like someone hadn't cut it in a long time. They probably hadn't. "C'mon," the Banana said, whining loudly. "Why dun you wanna have fun?" "You're the new girl, right?" the Blueberry asked. "Zee says you gotta do what they say so you gotta play." "Zee didn't tell me to play," Kione said sourly, "you did. And I don't listen to Zee anyway." Kione wasn't trying to make an enemy, but what Ellie said really got to her. Wearing diapers and doing what you're told is the responsible thing to do. This whole place was trying to convince her to fit in and behave, but if she did then she would be no better off than the rest of them. She hated causing trouble; it was almost anathema to her. Everyone got along better if they could openly communicate, but Kione knew better than anyone that emotions didn’t always care about efficiency. "Come on we're gonna draw chalk pick-a-chers!" The Banana pouted, and the Blueberry screwed up her nose in a big pouty expression. "You do so too do what Zee says or we lose points." "It's okay, Annie," said the Banana, "points don't matter berry much to a Blueberry cause you can't count anyways." "Ana!" whined the Blueberry, "I can so too count!" "Maybe just to two, cause that's what you do in your—" "Okay, okay! I’ll play!" shouted Kione. Mostly because watching two adults bicker like two children was only making her feel more and more like she was sinking into this stupid place. Idly, she itched at her elbow. Kione followed the other two past the hop scotch spots and to an empty space on the blacktop. Ana and Annie sat down on the warm pavement and Kione reluctantly followed suit. The ground was hot - really hot - but the padding on Kione's butt made it bearable. "Wan' play Pick-a-cher Party?" Annie asked. Kione didn't know what that meant, but she agreed nonetheless. "All you gotsa do is draw a thing we pick an' we all see who does it best." The thing Annie picked was an airplane. Annie started talking about how she used to help build them, and how the wings have to be a very specific angle or the whole thing would never take off. Annie's art of the airplane - in turn - was extremely detailed... more like a blueprint. It barely looked like an airplane. Kione drew her own airplane in orange chalk, and it looked a lot like a clip art someone might put on the front of a children's daycare pamphlet. She was more focused on Annie's drawing. How had someone so smart been reduced to something like this, Kione wondered. Was this going to happen to her too? No, she wouldn't let it. "I like your plane!" Annie said excitedly, crawling over in her blue dress. Ana, on the other hand, glanced sideways at Kione's art and scoffed. "There's only two engines. How is it gon fly with jus' two engines?" "Some has two engines, Ana," Annie offered in defense of her Blueberry sister, but Kione didn't want any help. She scratched absentmindedly at her elbow and issued a new challenge: "Then I’m picking the drawing this time. And I pick a dodecahedron." Annie and Ana both looked at each other uncertainly and Kione smiled smugly. But rules were rules. They each took up a piece of chalk and started to draw. To Kione's surprise, Ana knew what she was trying to draw. Unfortunately, she wasn't the best artist. Annie was just copying Kione as Kione drew a twelve-sided object. Kione wasn’t very creative, but she had a good enough sense of perspective to make up for it. Kione won that round. Ana took the next turn: a wolverine, like the animal and not the comic guy. Then it went back to Annie. Kione drew a bell, a bag of popcorn, a fish, and a telescope. She crawled on her hands and knees all over the cement and her once-white shirt was dusted in different colored chalks. When she finally noticed how much time had gone by, it was jilting. Disorientating. Kione quickly got to her feet. "I... I'm sorry, I have to go..." Kione ran off away from the pair of girls, toward the Blueberry fort. At the foot of the hill, she stopped to catch her breath. What am I doing? Kione thought. Was I really going to sit there and draw stupid stuff on the sidewalk all day? No, this is wrong… I’m getting too comfortable here… Kione scratched feverishly at her elbow. The sky was overcast, but wasn’t it sunny out just a moment ago? Had she been imagining that? But now it looked like it might rain. Could it rain here? Before she could put any of the puzzle pieces together, Kione was pulled out of her introspection by a familiar voice. "Kione!" Zee was exasperated. Their voice had the same tone as before: assertiveness that wasn't quite assertive enough. "You dropped this." Zee held up the pacifier Kione had thrown to the ground earlier that morning. They went to clip it to Kione's shirt again, but Kione stepped back before they could. "I'm not wearing that!" "Why not?" Zee tilted their head with curiosity. Not hostility, not anger, not outrage - just curiosity. "It helped you sleep and it keeps you happy, so why not? It's just a piece of plastic and ribbon and... different… plastic, I guess, I think?" Zee had never really thought about it in too much detail. "Because!" Kione was shouting, though she didn't really want to be. Everything was feeling too normal, too easy. She needed to have control. She needed to evoke change in her environment, and that meant yelling at Zee. "Because they are for babies! And so are these stupid diapers, and so are these stupid clothes! I don't know why you're all playing along with this stupid place! Don't you see what they're doing?!" Kione felt something on her arm and slapped it as hard as she could. But if there had been a bug there, there certainly wasn't any proof. "You're being silly, Kione," Zee pouted, but they did their best to try and stay as grown-up as they could. For a Blueberry, anyway. "That’s just how it is. You should try to be happy here." "No," Kione said flatly, full of frustration. "I'm getting out of this stupid place!" Kione stormed past Zee, scratching at her arms as she walked onto the playground. The clouds overhead were heavy and grey, washing out all the colors in the clothes of the oversized children. Heads turned, watching Kione, as she made her way to the center of the hills, to the ring of flowers, to the Ever After Door. "Kione!" Zee called after her, but Kione wasn't listening. She trampled over the the flowers, grabbed the door handle, and turned it. In one motion, she shoved it open and stepped through the doorway.

Chapter Nine "What does it mean?" Kione had taken a few minutes to muster up both the courage and the opportunity to ask Zee for some clarification. A new rule. Points for the Blueberries. And Zee seemed sweet and nice, but them being in charge could have meant anything at all. "It means you gotta do anything I say," Zee answered simply. "Great..." Kione muttered. Just what she needed: a grown up toddler on a power trip. But so far, Zee had been very level-headed. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as Kione thought. But not even a moment later, when Kione pulled the pacifier from her mouth, Zee shook their head. "Nuh uh, back in your mouth." "Seriously?" Kione asked in disbelief. "I don't need it." "Are you sure? How do you feel?" "Fine," Kione answered quickly. Probably too quickly, because she didn't feel fine at all. Sucking the pacifier had a weird distancing effect, like everything going on was one-step removed. Actually, it reminded her a lot of her medication. But now that the pacifier was taken out, the stimuli was overwhelming: the thickness between her legs, the crinkles with every step, the numbness on her knees, and a small urge to use the bathroom. But it didn't stop with physical sensation; it lingered into her feelings. Shame, wearing a diaper at her age. Embarrassment, walking around in a floofy princess skirt. Most of all, stupidity for tripping and crying and needing some woman to patch her up. No, Kione didn't feel fine at all. Actually, she felt a little sick. "Now put it back in," Zee instructed, like every single feeling that Kione had felt was televised on her face like a TV screen. The leader of the Blueberries looked confident too, like the direction they were giving was beyond reproach. Kione was stuck between spite at not wanting to prove them right and anxiety at the fact they were right. Kione looked at the pacifier and bit her lip with concern. "I'm only doing this for the points," Kione argued, but she and Zee both knew it was a lie. Kione slipped the nipple of the pacifier back between her lips and the vague cloudiness filled her thoughts. The diaper wasn't a big deal, and neither was the skirt. She barely thought about needing the bathroom and all her scary thoughts were on a two-second delay. That two seconds was long enough for Kione to ask... "so what?". So what if she was in a diaper; so was everyone else. So what if she wore a poofy skirt; it was just clothes. And so what if she got hurt; it happens. All of a sudden, it wasn't all that overwhelming anymore. The last thing Kione remembered before arriving in that pink room was walking home from the train station. She hadn't had her medicine since that morning, days ago. She knew she could live without it - she had done it before. But this was the first time since arriving in the Kindergarten that Kione found it easy. That night, tired from playing, Kione flopped down on her bed and pulled the pacifier from her mouth. But there were two feelings more pressing than her exhaustion. The first was thirst. The last thing she drank was that sippy cup at dinner, and she had a small headache behind her temples from dehydration. Kione was the kind of woman who always carried a water bottle to work. Maybe there was a drinking fountain somewhere in the playscape that she could use, but finding her way back to her room had sapped what little energy she had left. It would have to remain a problem for tomorrow's Kione. The second thing, almost paradoxically, was her need to use the bathroom. Kione rolled onto her side, crinkling with every movement, and tried not to squirm. Even if she could fall asleep like this, her bladder would wake her up sooner or later. After ten minutes of tossing and turning, Kione spread her arms wide and looked up at the plastic ceiling. It was inevitable... "I could go to the Chapel and ask for the bathroom again," Kione said, whispering to herself in the darkness. "And lose another day," she countered herself. "Is that really worse than wetting a diaper?" she asked again. "It's just a diaper..." she argued. Kione paused to think about that sentence. It's just a diaper. Why did that feel so familiar? With what energy she had left, she sat up, stripped herself of the frilly skirt, and looked down at the diaper between her legs. Blue, with little berries on it. "Familiar..." Kione muttered. Not the blueberries, but the thickness when she tried to close her thighs. The sound of crinkling. The soft touch of the plastic. Very familiar. Was that just another hallucination? Could familiarity be a hallucination? With a groan, Kione fell back on her bed again and closed her eyes. She didn't have a choice. For a moment, Kione thought it would be hard to wet herself. She hadn't done it since she was a baby - discounting the odd experiences of that afternoon - and she thought her potty training would put up a fight. But it didn't. She was laying on a bed that was unusually comfortable, looking up at the Fisher-Price plastic ceiling of her Fisher-Price plastic cell, connected to a literal maze of tunnels that everyone could navigate but Kione herself. She felt, as her diaper grew warm and wet and ever-more-familiar, that this place was just another metaphor for her life. How would she ever find her way out of this labyrinth? With a wet diaper between her thighs, Kione drifted off to sleep. She didn't have any dreams, and when she woke - sunlight trying valiantly to pierce the blue plastic room - it felt like no time had passed at all. Kione rubbed her eyes and rolled over, only to be greeted by a telltale crinkle. The memories of the night before came back to her. "Ugh..." Kione licked her lips and tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. She needed water. Had she missed breakfast? But she didn't hear a bell... Lost in her morning grogginess, Kione sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She took a few steps toward the set of drawers and opened the top one. Diapers were stacked side by side, all with blue trim or patterns. No blueberries. Then, as sudden as lightning, Kione knew something was wrong. She looked back at the bed, at the stack of diapers, and finally, down at the blueberry-printed padding taped around her hips. She pressed her hand between her legs only to discover what she already knew: her diaper was dry. "How..." Kione spoke aloud, filled with confusion. She had certainly wet herself before falling asleep; she couldn't have imagined that. And the blueberry print wasn't like any of the diapers in the drawer. "And how did I..." Kione looked again at the bed. If she had never wet a diaper before, how could she tell the difference between a wet one and a dry one just by walking a few steps? Kione shook her head. Mystery solving would have to wait; her first priority was making it to breakfast on time. And besides, wasn’t this kind of convenient? It wasn’t like Kione had a lot of experience changing her own diapers. Kione didn't want to wear that fluffy skirt again, so she picked something a little more sensible. Clearly the clothes at the Kindergarten were gender-agnostic; she had seen boys in skirts and dresses, though there had been fewer girls in pants. Kione pulled out a white sailor pull-over shirt with blue trim around the sleeves. She dug a little bit to find some matching shorts. She didn't look anything like a boy - not with her long frizzy hair - but the outfit provided a lot more modesty than yesterday's. As she climbed into the tube that led out of her room, sticking her padded butt high in the air as she crawled, Kione knew she had made the right decision. Unlike yesterday however, there were others in the tubes. Kione used the other Blueberries as guides, following them toward the exit while trying to commit some of the maze to memory. She'd been in two of the Nations so far - the Blueberries and the Limes - and she had to admit that McDonald’s Playland scaled up to adult sizes was a lot less terrifying than large treehouse connected by nets and ladders and rope bridges. "Good, you're not late this time." Zee was waiting at the end of the tubes, letting out onto the grassy hill. The sky was bright and cheery and the color-coded lemmings were making their way to the hill with the Chapel on it. The bell from the tower started to ring just as Zee finished their sentence and Kione had to wait until it stopped to ask her question. "You didn't, uh... change me, did you?" Kione didn't want to give more details than that. She didn't want to say "diaper" or "wet" or anything. Luckily, Zee understood the implication. "If you go to bed soggy or stinky, you wake up dry. If you've been a good Candy." The thought of going to bed 'stinky' sent a shiver up Kione's spine. It was a mix of dread and familiarity. A blush colored Kione's cheeks. "You dun have your binky," Zee pointed out, reaching into their pocket. They pulled out a blue-colored guard with a ducky printed on the button, tied to a strap of white lace. They clipped the strap to the collar of Kione's shirt and pushed the paci between her lips. Unlike the night before, the pacifier didn't have much of an effect. Kione's anxieties were diminished, and really all it made her feel was silly. She quickly plucked it out of her mouth and looked at Zee with a touch of annoyance. "You should leave it in today when you're not eating, 'cause it'll make a good impression," Zee explained, putting their hands on their hips with some measure of sternness. Zee was anything but assertive, so it didn’t come across very well. "I don't want to have this in my mouth, Zee. I don't really know what you think is happening here, but I don't really want to do more than I have to." "Well," Zee pursed their lips thoughtfully, "you have to." "I have to?" "Yes." Kione remembered what the Matron said the other night, about Zee being 'in charge' of her. But that seemed like a formality more than anything, like putting one sibling in charge of another. They had no real power. "What are these points anyway?" Kione asked. "Why do you care?" Kione knew they had something to do with the Priestess and the door in the middle of the playground, but this seemed more like a cult than anything. Maybe if she could sway Zee to her side… "If you're good, you get to go through the Ever After Door." Zee answered, matter-of-factly, but it made no real impression on Kione. "What does that mean?" Kione furrowed her brow. "It's like this. If you're good, and you get more points, everything is better. And then when it's better, you have more fun." "What do you mean better?" Zee seemed confused by that question, and they cocked their head to the side. "Like um... the op-si-sit of worse?" Kione groaned, following Zee down the hill after the other Blueberries. She still didn't have her pacifier in her mouth, and she felt like there was no reason to listen. "So if I don't use this pacifier, we lose points. We, like, all the Blueberries?" "Mmhmm. And they'll be mad at you." Kione paused to think that over. Was it worth making her entire team angry just to avoid feeling silly? Probably not. But she had more questions to ask. Speaking of teams... "You said last night that no one would try to abduct me again..." Kione said, avoiding the word 'kidnap'. It was a brief conversation they had on the way back up to the fort. "So am I a Blueberry forever?" "Probably," Zee said plainly. "The Matron made a rule, so now I'm in charge of you. Even if you switch teams, I'm in charge of you. So nobody else wants you." "Great..." Kione sighed. She was stuck on the Baby Team. "Ellie's prolly gonna stay a Cherry too, cuz the Cherries ain't gonna leave their fort to take somebody else." Ellie... Kione had nearly forgotten about the other new girl. How is she holding up, Kione wondered. Kione didn’t care about the points, but her sense of self-preservation and anthropologic tendencies got the better of her. If it was better for her fellow teammates, how could she honestly say no? She put the pacifier back between her lips and sulked, following Zee up the hill to breakfast. Kione took a look at Zee's butt while they walked. They were wearing a dress, but it was too long to see underneath. Nonetheless, now that Kione knew all the grown-up children were in diapers, it seemed so obvious. They crinkled with every step. They had wide stances and waddled when they walked. Was there a way for Kione to get out of this? At the top of the hill, the tables were already full of overgrown toddlers. They were eating food that was actually there, or maybe Kione was getting better at imagining it. Zee pulled her onto the bench next to them and Kione reached for a stack of pancakes.

This is a really good idea... the process of "how they are chosen" and stuff is still a mystery. I was going to explain it more in the future, but a "showing, not telling" approach might be better?? Anyway, thanks so much for this!

Hey everyone!! It's been over a year of my stories on DailyDiapers. It's actually only been a year of sharing any of my ABDL writing with anyone... I've gotten so much support, I never could have imagined. ? I've been working on A:K for a while now and I'm pretty solidly done with this story. So I'm going to try to speed-edit over the next few days (weeks??) and try to post it faster than the others. Thanks to SO MANY PEOPLE who have Liked and commented and supported me through this writing adventure!! Thanks especially to the people who have joined Sophie & Pudding's Patreon page (www.patreon.com/sophieandpudding) in support of my writing. S&P have been helping me edit since the very first Academy Works story, and I post a lot of my early chapters on their Patreon for feedback. It's been so extremely helpful!! ? Anyway, here's a few new chapters! ~Mia Moore~ Chapter Six "I’m awake! What?! What… huh…?" There were noises all around Kione, and flashing lights that made long shadows bounce all around her room. She became disorientated and tumbled out of her hammock, hitting her elbow painfully on the wooden floor. The cacophony, the flashing lights, the sound of people yelling, and footsteps that were drawing nearer - she couldn’t focus. She was asleep. Was this a dream? But the pain in her elbow was real, and the sound of shouting outside was real. Was this real? Kione knew she had to focus, but whatever was going on outside was rocking all her senses at once and she felt seasick inside her own head. The door to Kione's room burst open with a slam. Kione looked up through the bleary darkness at silhouettes until the beams of flashlights fell on her face. She squinted through the brightness and tried to get to her feet, but the shadows roughly grabbed her by the arms and lifted her off the ground. Kione tried to pull away, but the hands held firmly to her arms. "Hey! Let me go! Let. Me. Go!" Kione wasn't a fighter; she could get out of almost any situation with levelheaded words. But everything was happening so fast. She didn't even have time to remember where she was. If the rope bridges and ladders had been terrifying to Kione before, they were positively horrific now. She was passed - sometimes thrown - from various hands into other hands, and then fell into a free fall. After maybe the longest second of her life, she was caught by a weave of rope. New hands grabbed her around the shoulders and dragged her into the grass, down the hill and away from the Lime fort. "Lemme… lemme go, lemme…" Somewhere along the way, Kione had started bawling. She was struggling to even form a sentence. For all the errant lights, not a single one had shown on her captors, but Kione’s ears were catching faint bouts of laughter through the ring of panic and the crunching of plastic grass. It was too much for Kione. The discomfort of an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, the terror of not knowing what was real, losing a day of her life with no memory of it, and finally falling asleep in a fort three stories high, only to be thrown from it in the dead of night. Tears spilled down Kione's cheeks in waterfalls, and her screams for help drew no attention. Then, as Kione reached the bottom of the hill, she felt the weight of an incline. She was going up a different hill, to a different fort. But it was so dark out, she couldn't tell which it was. By the time Kione was let go, she was in shambles. She felt several others plop down on the grass next to her, giggling and laughing and talking, and when she finally wiped the tears from her eyes and managed to find any focus at all, she noticed the abundance of blue colored clothing in the darkness. "…tha’th wath the cooleth! I wath tho brave!" "You were! You were the bravestest ever!" "Yuh! Yuh!" Words were starting to make sense to her now, and Kione wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. "You're one of us now," a voice said. A familiar voice. The flashlights turned off and Kione’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. Far below her, she could see the silhouettes of the playground, and high above her, pinpricks of hundreds of stars. "Welcome to the Blueberries," the familiar voice spoke again. Finally, Kione's eyes had adjusted enough to make out the faint features of Zee. They were the leader of the blue team, right? "I, um... I'm picked by the... uh... Limes..." Kione was doing her best to calm down, but tears were still dripping off her chin and she couldn't stop shaking. Though she was starting to realize that she wasn’t in danger, all the adrenaline and fear from her kidnapping was still fresh in her mind. Every moving shadow was a monster, and her eyes were starting to create a fake reality. So she closed them as tight as she could. If she couldn't see it coming, it wasn't there... or was that the logic of a child? "Kione." Zee’s voice was much closer now, and Kione was vaguely aware that they’d knelt down in front of her, though she never opened her eyes. When something touched her, she twitched, but a set of hands grabbed onto hers. Soft hands. Gentle hands. "You’re a Blueberry now, and you’re safe, and it’s gonna be lots of okay, okay? Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath." It took a while, but Kione could feel her heart beginning to slow. The pain of breathing began to dull. Then Kione felt something touch her lips and something touch her thumb, but she couldn’t connect the two sensations until her thumb was wet with saliva. Zee had guided it into her mouth. When she finally opened her eyes, Kione saw Zee kneeling in front of her. Behind Zee she saw the looming shadow of the Blueberry Fort; Kione craned her neck to take it all in. Not ropes or bridges. Tunnels. Plastic tunnels, with bulging plastic windows, like a McDonalds play scape, but much bigger. And so much less scary than the ropes. "I’malime…" Kione felt foolish and took her thumb out of her mouth, but as soon as she did that, Zee shook their head and pushed it back in. "It helps lotses." Kione hated to admit it, but sucking her thumb was actually helping. The scary shadows seemed a lot less scary and she could see that there was nothing crawling on her skin. Or maybe that was just her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Kione couldn't be sure, but she didn't want to take the chance, not yet. So she kept her thumb in her mouth. Zee helped Kione up off the ground, onto her shaky feet. "We do this with all the Newborns," Zee explained while Kione tried to compose herself. "The more Candies you got on your team, the more likely it is to get points." Candies. There was that word again. Kione wondered where she heard it before, but she had so much trouble walking straight that thinking straight wasn't on the table. "Last night ever'body went for Ellie 'cuz she's the only one. Usually we get four at a time. Tonight, I knew the Limes were gonna go for Ellie again, so we could get you." "Zee," a girl called a little too loudly for the middle of the night. She ran up to the leader, and Kione could see - even in the faint colorless night - that her blue dress was splattered in green paint. She looked like she was going to cry. "I died..." she whimpered, holding back tears. "Don’t cry, Heather," Zee said with uncharacteristic confidence. "Go get a check up. Tell the doctors you gotta be alive by morning." The girl nodded - like all that made perfect sense - and ran off toward the fort of tunnels and tubes. Kione was still trying to wrap her head around it, but it seemed like a game. A harmless, stupid kids' game. "C'mon," Zee smiled at Kione. "You must be sleepy. I'll show you to your room." Kione followed behind, trembling in the warm night air, until they arrived at a tube entrance into the fort. Only then did Kione remember she was sucking her thumb and quickly took it out of her mouth to climb up the foam handles. While the Lime Nation had been vertical and scary and every step felt like it could have been Kione’s last, there was a certain comfort and safety to the Blueberry base. Once she’d entered the tunnel, it seemed like the entire place was enclosed. And stable. And a whole lot less vertical, although it did have the effect of making Kione feel as though she was a hamster in a maze. Left. Up two stairs. Not two flights, just two stairs. Right. Straight. Left. Straight. Up three stairs. Left. Left. Down one stair. There was a ladder going up to a lookout, and here and there were bubbled hemisphere windows that gazed out into the night. Right. Straight. Left. Straight. And to a room with a plastic door with a cut out of a smiley face. Zee opened the door, and led Kione inside. There was a bed! A plastic headboard and a plastic frame, but a mattress and blankets and it was a bed! Not a hammock. There was a desk and a dresser as well, just like the Lime room. "This is… this is my room?" "Yep!" Zee was alight with confidence. Despite their shyness around the other group leaders, they seemed to be in control of the situation here in the Blueberry fort. The adrenaline had started to dwindle and Kione was exhausted. She stumbled over to her bed and collapsed on the covers. The terror and confusion of the day - or two - weighed so heavily on her shoulders that she wasn't sure she could get up if she wanted to. And yet, she couldn't quite fall asleep. What if they came for her again? She couldn't handle it... "Blueberries are hard to take, 'cause of the tunnels," Zee said, opening the top drawer of Kione's nightstand. They walked over to Kione and sat on the edge of her bed, before popping a blue pacifier between her lips. Immediately, Kione's anxiety began to ebb away and her eyes grew heavy. "Don't be afraid," Zee whispered at the grown woman as she drifted off to sleep. "You're safe here." Chapter Seven Sure enough, Kione slept until the morning. Small beams of sunlight shined through the slits in her plastic bedroom walls and through a foggy dome in the ceiling. She sat up and rubbed her eyes before the memory of the previous night caught up to her. She was a Blueberry now. Was that how this worked? Almost to confirm Kione's suspicion, she noticed the clothes she was wearing: a bear-stenciled pajama set. But it was different: rather than green backgrounds, they were blue. Had Zee changed her? Kione remembered her once-white clothes at the Joining ceremony; more likely, the pajamas were the ones that changed. When Kione finally got out of bed, her bladder made itself known. With a pit in her stomach she looked at the dresser across from her. She hadn't had anything to drink since the last bathroom break, but she felt like she had to use the bathroom all the same. That was always how it was when Kione woke up. Nevertheless, the idea of putting on one of those diapers felt like giving up. She wasn't sure why; they were hardly the weirdest thing about the Kindergarten. But there was a stubborn, defiant part of her that demanded she hold onto this one part of herself. Worse comes to worse, Kione thought, I can just pee behind one of the hills. Right? A faraway bell chimed and Kione went to the door. She opened it to find a few other Blueberries scurrying around the tunnels, making their way out of the complex. But they were all dressed in proper clothes, so Kione closed the door and decided to at least look the part. Walking around in teddy pajamas wasn't really the best way to show maturity anyway. So far as Kione could tell, the Kindergarten was a perpetual playtime - a never ending lunch hour at a school, maybe - so practicality and comfort was the most important in choosing an outfit. What she settled on was a blue skirt with suspenders and a cute blue button up gingham top with a Peter Pan collar. The only socks she could find had little frills along the top. She still looked like an elementary school kid, but it was the best she could do with what she had. With as much confidence as she could muster, she opened her plastic door, stepped out into the plastic tunnels, and found herself to be alone in a maze of tubes. Alone and hopelessly lost. It took Kione the better part of an hour to find her way out of the fort. By then, she noticed Candies heading back down the hill with the bell tower. She hurried down her own hill and met with one of the other Blueberries at the bottom, a little out of breath. "Hey, um—" Kione lisped out the words and froze in her tracks. She reached up and pulled the blue pacifier out of her lips. Had she been sucking on it all morning without even noticing? With a burning blush, Kione tucked the pacifier into her dress pocket and turned again to the boy. "I, um... what was that... um... the bell." "Oh." The boy looked a little surprised, but he didn't say anything about Kione's pacifier. "Bells mean it’s mealtime. Breakfast just ended though. If you hurry maybe you can get some?" The boy in blue pointed up the hill where he'd just come from. Kione's stomach growled in response and she gave a prompt 'thank you' before heading to where the boy pointed. Unlike yesterday - or two days ago - Kione was having no trouble getting up the hill. Her legs felt better and the mild burns on her feet had healed. Unfortunately, she still couldn't find any shoes. Everyone else had shoes. When she got to the top, most of the kids were gone. A few kids were sitting at the tables with the tablecloths, but there was no food. With a deep breath, Kione sat down at the Blueberry table and closed her eyes. Sounds. Smells. Tastes. Pancakes. Omelettes. French toast. Anything! But when she opened her eyes, there wasn't any food. Her stomach growled again. "Breakfast is over," one of the Blueberries said, a girl sitting across from her. She had her thumb in her mouth, and it reminded Kione of the pacifier she'd been sucking all morning. She was already starting to act like them... "I know, I... I'm just really hungry," Kione explained. "You don't think I could ask a Matron for something to eat?" The girl shook her head and Kione sunk down so her head was on the table. Fortunately, the girl across from her had another solution. "You can always have berries," the girl said. "Berries...?" Kione tilted her head up and looked at the girl. She was round-faced and cute, with her hair pulled up in pigtails. But despite her appearance, Kione knew she was still an adult. "Yeah, um... those berries." The girl pointed behind herself, at the Chapel. Sure enough, along both sides were bushes and bushes of bright pink berries. Kione's stomach growled again in anticipation. "They aren't poisonous or something?" Kione asked, sitting upright again. "Nuh uh," the girl said. "They're for snacks between meals. And if Candies aren't feeling well." "Like medicine?" Kione asked. The girl shrugged, but Kione was halfway through rationalizing. Why would they put berry bushes out here with kids if they would hurt them? So Kione got up from the table with a sense of relief. "Thank you, uh..." "Red," the girl said around her thumb, a contrast to her blue clothes. “Thanks, Red." "Yuhhuh." Red smiled, waving goodbye with her fingers while still sucking her thumb. Kione made her way over to the bushes where the berries grew and did the usual checks she thought made sense. There were no prickles or thorns. The berries smelled sweet, even from a few feet away. And even though bright usually meant danger when it came to nature, these were obviously chosen to entice the adult kids at the Kindergarten. And goodness, Kione was hungry. Just two or three berries, that would get her through ’til lunch time. Gingerly Kione plucked a berry from the stem and popped it in her mouth. The outside had a texture like a glossy candy, and when she bit into it, juice erupted inside of her mouth, coating every surface and tingling like pop rocks. And it tasted really good! Kione ate another. And another. Two or three became five or six, and five or six became… well, to be fair, she stopped counting. It wasn't long before Kione wasn't hungry anymore; these berries were a lot more filling than any ordinary berry. When she stepped away from the bush, she stumbled - just a little - and had to hold out her hands to catch her balance. Then Kione started to snicker. She thought about tripping and falling and tumbling down the hill like Buttercup in The Princess Bride. Then her snickering turned into full giggling. One of the Cherries got up from their table and hurried over to Kione. "Let's get you inside," he said softly, holding Kione by the hand. Kione looked up at his cute little cheeks and his button nose and his long shaggy hair. Then, for no reason at all, she reached up and booped him on the nose and burst out in laughter. The Cherry led Kione into the Chapel, with the wooden floors and the pushed-away tables. A matron was waiting near the door. "Looks like somebody isn't feeling well," the Matron cooed, taking Kione's other hand. "I bet the berries helped, huh? Are you feeling better?" Kione nodded with a bright smile, showing her pearly white teeth. The Matron thanked the Cherry for taking care of someone in need and promised him some extra points. The Cherry ran off with a happy spring in his step and left Kione and the Matron alone. "Did you pick that outfit out all on your own, dear?" The Matron spoke in a tone that sounded so encouraging, and Kione felt so proud of herself. She quickly nodded her head. "Yeah yeah! I thought um…" Gosh, Kione was giggling and her cheeks felt about as pink as those berries. She thought about dressing herself this morning, only an hour or so ago, and how she chose not to put on a diaper like the rest of the kids at the Kindergarten. She was a big girl, and she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. "Don’ tell anyone but um! Um…see? See?" Without even thinking, she flipped up her suspender skirt to flash her white panties with the little bow on the front. "I’m in pannies, but I don’ wan’ta lose the whole entire day, so I’mma sneak off an’ pee inna bushes… but don’t tell anyone!" "That's a wonderful idea!" the Matron said, smiling down at Kione. "You're such a good girl to ask for a diaper. I'll get you changed right away." Kione blinked, taken aback by the statement. "I... no, I was saying..." Kione's thoughts jumbled into a knot in her head, the kind that took hours to undo. Like Christmas lights. Colored, blinking Christmas lights, like the ones strung up all over the Chapel. Kione's expression changed to one of childlike wonder. Were those always there? Kione obliviously fixated on the lights as the Matron's hand reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a blue pacifier. Kione didn’t even notice when the pacifier was pushed between her lips, slightly agape, or when she started to suck on it. "The lights are pretty," Kione muttered, still staring up at the ceiling. "Yes they are, dear," the Matron said. "Why don’t you tell me which colors you see?" “Blue… and uh… light blue. And green. And aquamarine. And pink." "Ahh..." For the first time, the Matron sounded a little disappointed. Kione looked up at her with deep confusion, like maybe she had done something wrong; she sucked anxiously on her pacifier. The Matron nodded at Kione's thighs, which were dripping with moisture, down her calves, and forming a puddle under her bare feet. At first, Kione didn't understand, but the Matron made it very clear: The Matron wasn't disappointed in Kione; she was disappointed in herself. "Looks like I was a little too late... and you were such a good girl, suggesting diapers. I hope you can forgive me." Kione looked at the puddle under her feet and then up at the Matron. She had wet herself. She didn't even feel it. But the heat on her thighs and under her toes tickled a little and Kione couldn't help but giggle. She didn't want the Matron to be sad either. "I forgive you," Kione said happily around her pacifier, like wetting herself was the most ordinary thing in the world. "Well thank you, dear. You’re such a sweet girl. And you couldn’t help it, could you? Will you tell Matron that? Can you tell Matron that you couldn’t help it?" "I couldn’t…?" Kione said it more like a question than a statement. She couldn’t help wetting herself, could she? If she could have, then she would have. So she mustn’t have been able to control it. No, she couldn’t control it, that was clear. "I couldn’t help it," Kione said again, more confidently this time. The Matron praised her with an emphatic "good girl" and Kione lit up with pride. "And people who can’t help but wet themselves are called babies," the Matron went on. "So what does that make you?" The Matron’s comment was taken as fact. People who can’t help but wet themselves are called babies. With that in mind, Kione’s rationalizing brought her to only one conclusion. "A baby!" Kione said proudly, giggling and nodding her head. The Matron smiled and patted Kione on the head. A warmth filled her from that single spot where the Matron touched, spreading through her like the heat that spread down her legs. It filled her up. Only one word came to mind when Kione thought about it: love. "Since you're just a baby, I think we can forgo your punishment," the Matron said. "Instead you'll do something else for me." Kione nodded without thinking. It sounded like she was supposed to nod, and so she did. No punishment. Something else. She followed the Matron's words like a tightrope over a pool of sharks. She couldn't miss a single step. "Matron is going to put you in a diaper, because you’re a baby and babies wear diapers." Kione nodded along with each word, listening intently. It all made sense so far. “And because you’re new to diapers," the Matron went on, "Matron is going to leave you in just your pretty button down shirt and your diaper, so everyone can see it. That way, if you forget that you’re a baby, your friends can remind you." Something about that triggered alarm bells in Kione’s head. Her friends would remind her that she was a baby… why was that so bad? She was a baby; she had admitted that. She needed diapers because babies wore diapers. And they were new to her, just like the Matron said; obviously she would forget every now and then. Wasn’t it a good thing to have her friends remind her? Unable to find the hole in her own logic, Kione nodded in agreement. The Matron had to be right, because Kione couldn’t prove her wrong. Like a flash of lightning, the Matron was gone. Kione looked around in confusion, turning in her puddle on the floor, and then just as quickly the Matron was back with a diaper in hand. She had a few other supplies with her, like some much-needed baby wipes and a container of baby powder. Most important though was the diaper itself. It was a pale blue, with patterned wings and a repeating print of blueberries down the middle. Kione’s eyes went wide. It was the perfect embodiment of her new Nation, of her new room, of her new friends. It would match every single outfit she had in her dresser back at the fort. "That’s so cute!" Kione said without thinking, because on any real baby it would have been very cute indeed. She hadn’t even considered what it would look like on her. "It is, isn't it?" The Matron said slyly, glancing at the diaper in her own hand. But Kione could never know if what the Matron saw and what she saw was the same thing. "Come here, little one. Over here." The Matron led Kione out of the puddle and unsnapped her overall straps. After stripping the woman of her skirt, leaving her in nothing but yellow-stained panties and a blue-trimmed blouse, Kione was laid down on the hard wooden floors of the Chapel. Kione didn't resist in the slightest, and if the thought ever even crossed her mind it flitted away just as quickly as it came. What Kione did think of, with clarity, was how much she couldn’t wait to be playing with the others. How much she wanted to hug Zee for being so nice to her, and how much she wanted to stick her tongue out at those dumb stinky Limes for losing her, and how she could think of so many good hiding places for hide and seek in the tunnels. And as she thought and mused and daydreamed, little half words and gushing gurgles spilled happily from her lips. After stripping off Kione's soiled panties and wiping her clean, the Matron lifted Kione’s legs and spread the diaper out beneath her bare bottom. She applied a liberal amount of powder and pulled the thick diaper up between her legs. Kione squirmed and giggled in delight as the faint nostalgia filled her up. She used to love her diapers, didn’t she? The Matron finished taping Kione's diaper in place and sat her up. The puddle on the floor, which Kione could have sworn was there only a moment ago, was now gone. On Kione’s feet was a set of dry socks - with frills around the ankles - and a pair of black buckle shoes. Then, the Matron was gone too. But in her place, a small wooden toy sat on the floor. Seven blocks sat beside it, all different shapes that Kione couldn't name. She maneuvered herself onto her hands and knees and crawled over to it. For hours - for what felt like minutes - Kione sat there and tried to put the seven blocks inside the bigger wooden toy. Each hole only seemed to fit one block, and sometimes when Kione would get one in - after celebrating - she would find that same block sitting on the ground a few minutes later. Then, for no reason in particular, Kione stopped. She looked at the block in her hand and the toy in front of her. She tilted her head and looked around the room. There were two others - a Banana in a floofy yellow dress asleep on a colorful mat, and a glossy eyed Lime playing with a toy identical to her own. How had she not noticed them before? When Kione tried to get to her feet, the thickness between her legs caused her to stumble. The sounds of crinkling mirrored her every movement. And then she felt the clammy dampness. Her diaper was soaked, and she didn't remember wetting it. What she did remember was her agreement with the Matron: she wouldn't be punished, but her skirt would be taken away. Sure enough, her overall dress was nowhere to be seen. Kione shook her head in disbelief. "H-hey... I... I don't know what happened..." Kione was speaking to the glossy eyed Lime, but she wasn't paying attention. Kione looked outside the high windows, at the playground. It was late afternoon, judging by the sun. It would be dinner soon. But this wasn't like the bathroom thing - time didn't skip ahead. Kione remembered every vivid moment. She remembered the humiliating things she said to the Matron. She remembered asking for a diaper. She remembered playing with that silly toy for hours and hours, though it only felt like a handful of minutes. In a fury, Kione went to the door. She had to get out of this place! But with her hand on door handle, she froze. If she went outside like this, without pants... how was she supposed to get all the way back to the Blueberry hill and get a change of clothes? It was on the other side of the valley. Then a ring echoed throughout the building and Kione nearly jumped out of her skin. Outside, Kione could see children running for the hill. "No..." Kione whispered to herself, talking around the pacifier. Upon the realization that she had still been sucking the stupid thing the whole time, Kione took it out of her mouth and threw it to the other side of the Chapel, only narrowly missing a Matron who wasn't there a moment ago. "My my, that was one very quick and sudden tantrum, dear," the Matron said. "Is everything alright?" Her smile was warm, and her eyes were lovely, and she seemed like the least threatening figure in the entire world. But her words also rang with certainty, with a kind of power that Kione couldn’t readily identify. And even through her anger, it gave Kione a brief chill. The Matron knelt down and collected the pacifier off the ground. She twirled it in her hand and it was suddenly clean. "Don’t diminish my emotional state by calling it a tantrum, that’s…" Like someone pushed the fan button in the TsumTsums phone game and jumbled up all her words. "It’s not nice." "It's dinner time," the Matron said simply, handing the pacifier to Kione rather than pushing it between her lips. Kione took it and - allowing her better judgement to make the call - slipped it into the breast pocket of her blouse. It poked out just a little, but it was better than holding it. "I'm not going out there," Kione said flatly, trying to keep her emotions under control. But it was the same Matron as before, and the echoes of Kione's words when she was under the influence of those berries was still fresh in her head. Before she could build up her confidence, the Matron knocked them down like Jenga blocks. "You made a deal with your Matron, and if you’re too little to follow through on your deals you must be very small indeed. And you’re preferring to stay inside instead of going out to play. Perhaps you’re an infant. Perhaps tummy time on the playmat day in and day out is more your speed. Perhaps you’re telling your Matron that you would rather never go and play with your friends, that you would like to just lay on the floor and cry, and be carried around." To emphasis this, the Matron picked Kione up and set her on her hip. "And perhaps tomorrow," the Matron continued, "being so vulnerable, and so small - an infant, remember - you’ll be so helpless that you’ll wake up a different color. And all your pretty Blueberry friends will forget you." Every word felt like a chip at a ledge where Kione precariously stood, and if there were many more, Kione would stumble into the bottomless chasm in front of her. She tried to step away from the ledge, but her feet wouldn’t move. The Matron topped it off by slipping her fingers into the leg band of Kione’s diaper - her very very wet diaper - and shaking her head. "Perhaps you’re only fussing because you’re soaking wet, could that be it? Could it be that you’re not an infant, you’re a baby, and you just forgot the difference because you’re fussy? Could it be you’d like to go out and meet your friends and tell them all about your day?" "I..." Kione fumbled for even the slightest bit of retaliation, but she faltered. The diaper check, the condescension, the absolute supreme power... Kione remembered tummy time on the playmat. She remembered filling her diaper and having to sit in it. She remembered wailing and crying to get the smallest bit of attention. She remembered it all so vividly, and the fact that it had never happened didn't seem to matter. The Matron brought Kione back to the present by tilting her chin and making eye contact. Then the Matron asked a final time: "Are you being a fussy baby?" Kione nodded her head. The Kindergarten could be a circle of Hell for all she knew, but there were worse circles. It wasn't worth the risk. "Then let's get you changed into a dry diaper," the Matron cooed, "and we'll go out for dinner time. Does that sound good?" Once again, with nothing but self-preservation in control of her body, Kione nodded. Chapter Eight While she had her diaper changed, Kione didn’t say a word. Not out of defiance, not out of stubborn resistance, but because the Matron had put her pacifier back between her lips and any words Kione might have said only risked getting her in trouble. As Kione was ushered out of the Chapel and onto the top of the hill - populated with overgrown children in various colors of dress - heads turned. Kione tugged down at the hem of her blouse - white with blue trim - to try to cover up the entirety of her puffy diaper in matching colors. But the material of the shirt wasn't very stretchy, and it did little to hide her shame. A few girls from the Cherry table leaned in to whisper to each other and a boy in yellow was giggling under his breath. Kione's cheeks flushed with color as she skittered along to the Blueberry table, tears in her eyes. It was like being back in high school. She had an episode in class freshman year and the office had to call an ambulance for her. After that, everyone was so relentlessly cruel, pointing or whispering or laughing whenever she walked by. She was a freak. Broken. How could they condemn her like this when they were all in diapers too? As Kione sat down at the Blueberry table, one of the Limes shouted after her: "Shouldn't you be in a high chair?" A chorus of laughter echoed through the hills until it suddenly stopped, like someone muted the television. Kione looked up through wet eyes to see a Matron stepping out of the Chapel. All the kids went back to eating their invisible food and Kione put her head down on the table. She was so hungry, but depression always beats an empty stomach. "Arnchu gunna eats?" a Blueberry boy asked her, holding a hand of empty air as though it was a big piece of chocolate cake squishing between his fingers. Kione didn't know this boy’s name, no more than she knew much of anything about this awful place. She knew that she was a Blueberry today and might not be tomorrow. She knew that if she didn't believe in the invisible food it wouldn't be there. But she really had no clue as to why any of this was happening. What was the goal? She closed her eyes. "I'm not hungry." Kione sat there for a long time as her stomach grumbled. The kids kept eating the invisible food and no one else teased her while the Matrons were around. Eventually, as dinner lulled on, Kione's embarrassment began to subside and her stomach fought back against the depression. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the food. It was easier this time, as the smells filled her nostrils. The sounds of spoons on plates. The chewing sounds of the nearby kids. And when she opened her eyes, sure enough, there was a whole table of food. Kione slowly reached out and grabbed a hot dog off one of the plates and took a bite. It was still warm, like it was fresh off the grill. Kione still couldn’t tell the difference between ordinary hallucinations or the strange imaginative effects of the Kindergarten, but she knew that this food made her hunger go away. That meant either: a.) it was real food, or b.) Kione was worse off than she thought. Glumly, she finished the hot dog. It tasted really good. Dinner didn't last much longer. Kione pushed as much food into her mouth as she could before the Matrons started taking the plates away, and she reluctantly took a sippy cup of juice to wash down her food. A lot of the kids seemed to forget about Kione's situation and ran down the hill to play. A lot more didn't forget about it, but playing sounded like more fun. There were a few stragglers, waiting for her to do something else embarrassing. Kione remained firmly seated, glaring at them from across the table. "I don't know what you expect," Kione said flatly. "I was one of you just the other day," gesturing to one of the Limes, and then turning to the Bananas, "and for all I know, I'll be one of you tomorrow. What are you gonna get from making fun of me?" One of the Bananas scoffed, and rolled her eyes. "You're never gonna be a ‘nana." Maybe there was some kind of finesse to the kidnapping process Kione didn't understand, but the way the Banana said it, it sounded more like a child arguing against fact. "I'm not getting up," Kione said, annoyance seeping into her tone. "Wait all evening if you want to." A few of them looked at each other with uncertainty and Kione got an idea. "I mean, there's not much play time left, right? If you wanna waste it standing here just to make fun of me..." One of the Cherries tugged on another Cherry's sleeve and whispered not-so-quietly: "I wanna play..." Kione shrugged her shoulders and settled in at the table, getting herself comfortable. All the stragglers watched forlornly and turned to leave in pairs. When it was only one Lime left, he groaned and hurried down the hill, shouting, "Hey, wait up!" Finally, Kione was alone. She let out a sigh of relief. Now to get back to the Blueberry fort… Kione looked up at the mess of tubes, glowing blue in the light of the early evening. She must have spaced out on her way back to the Blueberry fort; she barely remembered the walk. She took the long way, didn’t she? To avoid the blacktop… that’s right, Kione thought. She went around the other hill. "You should be playing, you know," Zee said, walking alongside Kione. How long had they been following her? "I don't want to play." Kione replied drolly. "You should," Zee countered, as though their answer had any more weight to it the second time. Kione sighed and looked up at the maze of tubes in front of her. She wasn't sure she could find her room even if she was allowed to. Then Kione turned to check the position of the sun. There were only two or so hours until it was nighttime. "If I can have some pants or something, I promise to play," Kione offered. To her surprise, Zee seemed receptive to the idea. Why wouldn't they be? Why did Kione think Zee wanted to humiliate her? "I'll get you a skirt from the toy trunk," Zee said, "and you can play with me and Alice." Kione had no idea who Alice was, but she had no reason to say no. Zee disappeared into the structure and - with unbelievable speed - crawled back out with a fluffy blue skirt in their hands. It was more of a fairy princess kind of skirt than the school-girl look Kione was expecting, but it would cover the diaper and that was all Kione cared about. Zee took the initiative and held the skirt at Kione’s feet, helping the girl into it with equal parts clumsiness and gracefulness. "Good girl!" they said delightfully. "Now you're ready to play. There isn't much time left in the day so let's play extra hard, okay? C'mon!" They took Kione by the hand, and true to her word, Kione let Zee guide her. Kione hadn't noticed on her walk back to the Blueberry fort, but every step in a diaper was awkward and unbalanced. The padding between her thighs spread her legs apart in such an unusual way that she had to waddle just to keep up with Zee. To make matters worse, every movement Kione made was paired with a crinkle. Sometimes the crinkling seemed quiet and personal, and sometimes Kione worried Zee could hear it, but it was always there, like the accompaniment of an orchestra. She was a cartoon and the rustling of her diaper was background music. But the strangest thing to Kione about wearing a diaper was how ordinary it felt. A part of her was glued to the familiarity, like she was still in diapers only yesterday. "Alice, this is Kione." Zee introduced Kione to their friend - a chubby little Blueberry girl dressed in a gingham dress - and Alice smiled with a very bright smile in return. "Hi Kione! I like your skirt! It looks like the one from the toy chest!" Kione didn't know if she was allowed to admit that it was, but thankfully Zee answered for her. "That's very good, Alice! She looks super cute in it too" "I, uh... thank you..." Kione nodded nervously at the Blueberry with a pacifier clipped to her dress. Was that kind of thing common around here? Yesterday it felt like no one had one, but today she could pick out at least a dozen kids with them. Kione shook the thought from her head. "So, um. What game are we playing?" Kione wasn't sure she could jump rope again, not while she was wearing a diaper. Actually, that bit of information really put a lot of the activities in perspective. Kione was retroactively impressed with the jump rope girls from her first day. "We're playing forty-four," Alice explained, although that was about as far as her explanation went. Kione blinked. "I... don't know what that means." “Oh, uh…" Alice paused to think for just a moment. "It's like hide-and-seek and tips had a mushy diaper baby but also it’s forty-four." Kione felt no closer to understanding anything. She looked to Zee for help, and Zee shrugged their shoulders and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you good at counting?" "Yes," Kione answered, and then immediately doubted herself, "I think..." "Okay, then you're counting first," Alice said excitedly. "Just count to forty-four." "And close your eyes," Zee added. "Right, your eyes." "Alright, I guess..." Kione indeed closed her eyes and began to count. She couldn't be sure in a place like this, but it seemed like she was counting to forty-four just fine. None of the numbers tripped her up. "Forty-two. Forty-three. Forty-four." Without any further prompting, Kione opened her eyes. Kione couldn't see Alice or Zee. There was a little flag in the ground next to her, though. She didn't understand that part. Okay, so maybe this was like hide-and-seek, like Alice had said. There weren't that many places to hide though and it had been only forty-four seconds, so they couldn't be too far away. With a little nod of self assurance, Kione went in search of her two playmates. It didn't take her long to find Alice, hiding behind a table that hadn't been put away by the Matrons yet, but Alice darted out from behind her hiding place and ran right past Kione with a giggle. "Hey! Wait! I found you!" Kione shouted. "But you didn't touch me!" And in only a moments notice, Alice had touched the little flag and shouted, as loud as she could. "Forty-four, home before!" Blinking in confusion, Kione tilted her head. "What does that mean?" She shouted. "It means I beat Zee!" "...okay...?" Where was Zee though? Kione hurried back over to the flag, where Alice was still comfortably standing, a victorious smile on her face. This was like a king-of-the-hill slash tag slash hide-and-seek kind of game, as much as Kione could tell. But if Alice already won... "Does that mean Zee should come out?" Kione asked. "Or am I still looking for them?" "You're still looking for them, 'cause the last one to get tipped is it the next round," Alice explained, and then excitedly put her paci between her lips. She smiled around the plastic mouth-guard. Kione was starting to understand. It was a simple game of risk. The further Kione travelled away from the flag - which was, thankfully, at the edge of the playground - the more likely it would be for Zee to run to it. And since there weren't many hiding spots in the hills, Kione started sweeping the playground in a zigzag. She tried to stay as close as she could to the flag, watching out of the corner of her eye, just in case. The problem was: there were a lot of kids! Then, in the distance, she saw Zee behind a bin of playground balls. Kione moved slowly toward Zee's hiding spot, making a point to look around and pretend like she didn't know where she was wandering. Whether or not Kione's performance was convincing, Zee dashed out from behind the ball bin and ran toward the flag where Alice was standing. Kione turned on her heel and chased after them, but the thickness between her legs forced her into an awkward waddle. After a dozen steps, the toe of her shoe caught the blacktop and she tumbled forward onto the pavement. She put out her hands to brace her fall. When she finally came to a stop on the ground, Kione's palms and knees burned like fire and trickles of blood filled in the cracks of her skin. Her princess skirt flipped up, flashing the seat of her diaper to the whole playground in the evening light. But before Kione had a chance to be embarrassed, she noticed a gathering crowd. Someone said something about getting a Matron. Then Zee ran back to her and took Kione's hands in theirs. "Oh no, are you okay?" they asked. "Oh, yeah. It's just a few scrapes." Kione fell back on her padded butt and looked at her hands. They were dirty, but they weren't bleeding. Her knees weren't quite so lucky. "It's okay, you'll be okay, don't look at it okay?" Zee sounded more like they might have been reminding themself rather than reassuring Kione, but the advice was sound regardless. Unfortunately, a lot of others had gathered and everyone was talking about what had just happened. "Both knees." "It looks so ouchie." "Oh my days!" "I skinned one knee and I cried for so long." "The Matron will be here soon." Kione didn't understand it, really; her knees were skinned and they needed to be cleaned up. Sure it hurt, but it was just skinned knees, wasn't it? Why was everyone making such a big deal out of it? "I'm okay..." Kione mumbled, trying to reassure the spectators, but as the crowd parted and the Matron approached, Kione suddenly felt very sick. Like these weren't just scrapes. Like it wasn't stinging, like it wasn't just sore. She felt as though her legs were on fire, like she'd just broken every bone in them. Kione began inhaling and exhaling very quickly, and within seconds she was wailing and crying. "Shh, shh... it's okay little one." The Matron leaned down and pulled out a small box from her gown. She set it down on the pavement and opened it up. Alice stepped forward and handed the Matron the pacifier that was still clipped to her shirt. The Matron unclipped it from Alice's collar and pressed the nipple into Kione's wailing mouth. Kione sucked on the pacifier and felt an immediate wash of calm. The tears continued to pour down her cheeks, but her heart rate began to steady and her screams dwindled to whimpers. Her knees and hands still hurt so badly, but she felt so far away from all that. The Matron pulled a cloth out of the small box and poured a clear liquid into it. Kione watched through blurry tears as the Matron touched the cloth to her knee and the fiery pain raged. "Shh, shh... I know it stings, but it will only last a moment. There we go. You're such a good girl. Such a brave girl." Sure enough, after only a moment or two, the pain subsided. Actually, her knee felt a little bit numb. The Matron finished it off with a bandaid - a pretty pink one on Kione's dark skin - and went to the other knee. Kione shook her head in fear as the Matron readied another rag, but the Matron reassured her: "You're so brave. You're so strong. You already did it once, you can do it again. And then you'll feel all better. You want to feel all better, don't you?" Kione looked at her through great wells of tears and nodded her head. She wanted to feel better. Sure enough, the cloth hurt. Then it didn't. Kione got another bandaid and the Matron went to cleaning up Kione's hands. All the while, Kione sucked so feverishly on the pacifier until she found a happy rhythm. Everything felt like it would be okay. Kione sucked the pacifier contentedly - happily even - and looked down at her pretty bandaids on her knees. "Zee, Alice, Caleb, Flora. Would you please be Matron's little helpers and get Kione back to her room?" The four Blueberries nodded at the Matron and then at each other, but Kione shook her head in a frenzy. Kione wasn't good at letting others take care of her; she never had been. She was the oldest sibling, and the task of caring for her younger sister usually fell on Kione's shoulders. Her mom worked day and night at a restaurant a few stops down the Red Line and her dad worked twelve hour shifts in an office building downtown. When Kione was twelve, she got a job at an ice cream shop near her house to help with the rent. Kione was fifteen when she had her first hallucination. It happened at school and her mom had to leave work to come get her. Two more episodes and two walk-outs later, Kione's mom was fired from the restaurant. That was all the motivation Kione needed to get her hallucinations under control. Kione read dozens of psychology books. She strategized. She built a system of cues so she could tell what was real and what wasn't. She used the people around her like mirrors; their responses let her see things she was unable to see. She could build a reality using others as reflections, even if that reality wasn't her own. Paired with intense mindfulness and a massive toolbox of coping mechanisms, Kione learned how to accept her fears as inevitabilities. Loss, loneliness, and death weren't so scary anymore, and Kione's mom never got another call from her school. Kione climbed to her shaky feet, babbling around the pacifier -"I'm fine, I'm fine!" - but the Matron was unconvinced. "You got two booboos on your knees, and you tripped over your feet in the first place," the Matron informed her, as though Kione couldn't remember what had happened only moments earlier. In her defense, Kione spoke around her pacifier: "I just lost my balance, I'm really fine." "You lost your balance?" The Matron clarified. "Yeah, uh, I did, and..." "Like a toddler? Like a careless child, you tripped and fell?" "That's right." Kione could see where this was going, and she was determined not to let it beat her. For whatever reason, Kione knew this place was treating her like a child. But when you're playing tug of war with someone stronger than you, it's easier to let go and watch them fall. The Matron narrowed her eyes and let out a sigh of resignation. She closed the little box and stood herself up, so that she was towering over Kione. "Okay, you can keep playing," the Matron said. "But Zee is in charge. That's my final word." A slight murmur echoed through the crowd as the Matron turned and left. Kione didn't understand, but Zee was quick to clarify. "It's a new rule. But that's good. If we follow it, Blueberries can get a lot of points." Kione didn't care much about the point system or the Priestess or the door in the middle of the playground, but the other Blueberries did. Whether Kione liked it or not, someone else was in charge of her for the first time in her life.

Other?? Like a caregiver or something?? Hmmm... ? I don't know how entertaining it would be but it's definitely an idea. Thanks for reading! And thanks for the compliment!! ~Mia~

Chapter Five Suddenly, Kione was standing in front of the green fort. From afar, the fort where the Limes lived didn't look nearly as big and intimidating as it was up close. Rope bridges crisscrossed, went up and down, and there were little houses all over the place. At least one for each Lime, maybe double that. How could something so complex still be standing? It made her feel dizzy. Then Kione noticed Callie waiting at the bottom of the fort, next to a huge rope net that was obviously for climbing. "We missed you today," Callie said with a fake smile. Today. Kione felt sick to her stomach. "How could I be gone a whole day…?" Kione asked in a faraway voice. "I don’t remember anything, I just told the Matron I needed to…" And just like clockwork, Callie responded with: "Potty breaks take an awful long time. Not diapers though." Callie started climbing up the rope net. As Kione followed, she had to wonder: was that the point? Was taking days away from Kione just an effort to put her into diapers? Why not say that? Why not force her? They probably could! None of it made any sense… "Could you, um... show me to my room, please?" Kione asked, wanting nothing more than a long night’s rest. "Of course!" Callie said. "It's only seven bridges." "Huh?" "Seven bridges. From the ground. That's how we remember where we live. I'm eighteen bridges." "Right..." Kione remembered dinner, which felt like only hours ago, and tried to remember a headcount. It seemed like each Nation had something like fifteen members. Then she wondered why she wasn't hungry if she hadn't eaten in 24 hours. And if all that food before wasn't real, why wasn't she even hungrier? Kione shook her head. No, it was too disorientating right now. She needed to sleep. She needed time to rest her brain or none of this would add up anyway. As a mindfulness exercise, to keep her out of her head, Kione counted the bridges: the awful, unbalanced, swaying bridges made of rope and wood. Seven bridges didn't sound like a lot, but by the time Kione crossed her fifth one she made the mistake of looking down to see just how high up they were. "Oh my god…" "Right?!" Callie giggled happily. "Isn't it amazing? You've got such a good view from your room, too!" "This thing is a death trap..." Kione muttered, getting off bridge number five and onto bridge number six. At least if want to get out of here the easy way, Kione thought, I can jump off the top of this playscape. Then she paused to reflect on that: she hadn't thought about suicide in years. This place wasn't good for her. "If you get hurt," Callie said, maybe trying to put Kione at ease, "the Matrons take care of you and you come back and you feel just as good as new." Kione could think of a few ways that wouldn't be true, but she couldn’t get into a discussion about death with an ersatz child. After the seventh bridge, they came to a door. Each of the wooden houses seemed to be ringed in a rope net porch around the outside that went off in several directions toward other bridges, but the bedroom door was solid wood. Mercifully, it looked like the floor of the room was solid as well. "Here we are!" Callie announced. "This?" Kione asked. "I mean… this is my room?" Each wall could have only been six or seven feet long, but there was no ceiling and it made the whole place seem a lot more spacious. There were stars, but Kione couldn’t recognize any constellations. For the first time in her life, she wished she had taken an astronomy class. None of the bridges above her went directly over her room, but she could see them. Anyone on the bridge could probably see her too, if it wasn’t so dark. "This is your bed," Callie said, gesturing to the hammock hanging across the back wall. "You get used to the swaying." Other than the hammock, there was a set of drawers and a desk, but they both almost looked for show because the desk had nothing on it and no chair to match. Kione had to ask: "What’s with the desk?" "Oh," Callie answered glibly, "it’s a homework desk." "A homework desk? Do you have classes?" "Nuhuh it’s vacation." "Oh, well that makes sense," Kione relented. "But I didn’t see a school anywhere?" "There isn’t one," Callie said simply. "But you’re on vacation…? I don’t understand." "It’s always vacation." Kione blinked so hard it must have been audible. She was starting to understand a lot of the imaginative play of this place. Whether or not the food was real, the kids pretended it was. Likewise, whether or not the school was real, the kids pretended it was. It was almost like they were gaslighting themselves. "Well, I'm tired, so..." Callie nodded quickly and stepped out of the room. Before closing the door, she pointed to the dresser in the corner. "There should be some pajamas in there," she said. Callie left and Kione let out a sigh of exhaustion. This whole day - or two days? - had been the most disorientating thing she had ever experienced. It was worse than her first hallucination, before she knew they weren't real. She felt like she did in high school, when the certainty of everything was questionable. But for now, Kione needed rest. She wouldn't get anywhere without a good night's sleep. So Kione went to the dresser to look for pajamas; the now-green hospital clothes were a bit too stiff to sleep in. Kione opened the top drawer to find rows of diapers. She wasn't all that surprised, but Kione had never seen adult diapers like this before. They had childish patterns, like planes or trains or flowers. Kione may have mistaken them for those Goodnites pull-ups if it weren't for the glistening plastic and the sheer size of the padding. With nothing else but curiosity, she picked one up. To her surprise, she was awash with familiarity. The diaper crinkled exactly the way she thought it would, as if she had heard it countless times before. The plastic was soft and smooth, unlike anything she had ever touched, and yet it felt like she had touched it a thousand times already. Nostalgia welled up inside her, like walking through the rooms of a childhood home, and Kione had no idea why. The familiarity gave way to a quandary. Her mind laid out the following variables like a game of Solitaire: 1.) Everyone here seems to wear diapers. This is predicated on my limited knowledge, but it seems reasonable enough. 2.) Nobody here seems to care that they wear diapers. Or rather, they don’t care enough to do anything about it. 3.) Using the bathroom means losing a day - flushing it down the toilet, so to speak. This was somehow the Matrons’ doing, because the children have to go to the Chapel to ask permission. An exit, like I theorized? 4.) For some inexplicable reason, I am pretty sure I know how to put this thing on myself, though I have never done it before. Or maybe I simply don’t remember doing it. Kione sat down on the edge of her hammock and let herself sink into the ropes. She crinkled the plastic of the diaper in her hand and closed her eyes, trying for just a moment to center herself. Maybe if she put it on… "This is crazy," Kione muttered. She climbed up from the hammock and walked back to the dresser in a huff. She threw the diaper inside - next to the others - and closed the drawer a little too loudly. Kione went to the next drawer. It had a lot of daytime clothes: shorts, dresses, shirts with those rounded collars that kids have. Socks, but no shoes. Kione closed the drawer and went down the bottom one. Sure enough, this one was full of pajamas. Most of the nightgowns had frills and lace, and the short/shirt combos were decorated with cartoon animals. No matter what she wore, Kione knew she would look like a kindergartener. But at least she would fit in. Kione grabbed a pair of shorts and a pull-over shirt with little bear stencils all over them. She changed out of her once-white clothes and into the pajamas. That was the first time Kione saw the underwear she was wearing: plain white cotton with a tiny pink bow on the front waistband. They weren't hers. Kione thought about someone stripping her naked and changing her underwear, then she quickly shook that thought from her head. Anything could have happened to her body in the blackout, things she didn't even want to consider. Rife with exhaustion, Kione tumbled into her hammock and closed her eyes. She didn't even unfold the blanket at her feet before falling asleep.

Chapter Four Callie dragged Ellie onto the blacktop, but Kione volunteered to sit this one out. She needed to think. More importantly, the walk down the hill had caused her feet to hurt again. She couldn't play even if she had wanted to. For an hour, Kione sat quietly and tried to piece everything together, but a part of her knew better. Kione could never be sure of anything, no matter how real it seemed. She used to hate that about herself, but she learned to use it to her advantage. By reflecting upon and second-guessing everything she did, she could see things no one else could. That was what made Kione a good counsellor. But Kione also learned that sometimes things didn't make sense and you just had to go with it. Trust yourself. Working with her hallucinations always turned out better than trying to shut them out. So what was her brain trying to tell her? This place was fake. Even if it wasn't literally fake, it was fake in a lot of ways. The Priestess thing, the Ever After, the whole point... what was the point? Kione took a deep breath. She had to pee. Maybe she could use that to her advantage too. "Kione!" Robin waved from across the blacktop, rushing over with a light jog. She looked like the kind of girl who would have run track in a previous life. "The Joining is starting. Come with me." Without resistance, Kione did just that. The playground around them was beginning to change as the sun set. The shadows grew long and everything took on an eerie red hue. When she was younger, Kione had to be back home before the streetlights came on. Though there weren’t any streetlights in the Kindergarten, it felt like the streetlights would be on soon. The nostalgia was palpable. Robin led Kione just as Callie led Ellie until the two of them were standing in front of the big door, decorated with crayon drawings. Dozens of adult children crowded around the Ever After Door, but none would set foot past the ring of flowers. When Kione approached, the sea of people parted for her until she stood right up against the flower ring. To her left, a few feet away, Ellie - dressed in white - was waiting as well. Just as Kione was about to ask what she should do, one of the boys in red pushed her into the circle of flowers. She stumbled to catch her balance. Ellie was pushed in along with her. The both of them exchanged a glance, then looked out at the crowd of colors. There sure were a lot of them, but all the blues were with the other blues, the yellows with the other yellows, and so forth. "Turn around," one of the boys in the crowd called out to Kione. Another girl - one in yellow that stood in the front - motioned for her to spin by turning her hands. So Kione did just that. At first, Kione wasn't sure what she was looking for. The door stood in the center of the flower ring, not leading to anywhere in particular, and covered in dozens and dozens of drawings. But after a closer look, Kione noticed one page was different to the others. It was white with black typeface. Kione looked at Ellie, who just shrugged. Without further recourse, Kione took a step forward and pulled the sheet from the door. Bananas. Limes. What did that mean? Kione walked back over to the crowd and handed the page to the boy in red that pushed her into the circle. The boy looked furtively at the piece of paper and nodded his head, then passed it to a boy in yellow, a person in blue, and finally, a girl in green. Not a single person said a word, not one, until two people stepped forward: Callie and Casa. Kione held her breath without noticing. It was Casa that spoke first: "We'll take Ellie." Then Callie: "We'll take Kione." Kione let out a little sigh of relief. If there was any group she best identified with, it was probably the Limes. They were curious, right? Kione would fit right in. Callie smiled warmly as she stepped to the flower circle and extended her hand to Kione. With trepidation, Kione reached across and took her hand. Callie helped her across the threshold of flowers, and just like that Kione was a Lime. Without flourish or ceremony, her clothes were different. Her white pants were a lime green, and the hems of her shirt sleeves were trimmed with green as well. It was like they had always been green, like it was destined. After the two newborns left the circle of flowers, everyone began to disperse back to their respective hills. The blues to the hill with the blue fort, the reds to the hill with the red fort. Ellie gave a final half-smile to Kione before heading to the yellow hill, and Callie led Kione by the hand toward the play fort that matched the color of the grass. "Hey, um, before we go back," Kione said, grabbing Callie by the wrist to stop her, "I need to use the bathroom. How do I do that?" This was Kione's best chance at finding a way out of here, and she actually did have to pee. "You go to the Chapel and tell a Matron. But... going to the potty takes a long time. We won't see you until tomorrow if that's what you do, and I wanna show you your new home!" And there was more Callie wanted to discuss. "I don't have much of a choice," Kione laughed, swaying side to side. She really had to pee, and she wasn't afforded the same bathroom freedoms as a boy might be. "Who knows - maybe it won't take that long?" Kione waved goodbye to Callie and headed toward the Chapel hill. But halfway up, she started to struggle. Her knees buckled under her and she fell into the grass. With a deep sigh and a flash of embarrassment, Kione crawled the rest of the way up the incline. "You look like you’re struggling, little Candy." Kione had been looking down at her hands while she crawled, so the voice from the Chapel door surprised her. She leaned back on her knees and looked down at her palms - devoid of grass stains - and then up at the Matron. "My legs hurt," she said. "And I need to use the bathroom." "Do you now?" the Matron asked. "Well, you know potty breaks take an awful long time. Are you sure about that?" Kione narrowed her eyes. So the bathroom thing was a mantra by the Matrons, not something Callie had picked up on her own. That gave Kione a lot of insight to this place and the point of it. They wanted her in a diaper, just like Callie. But Kione wouldn't play their game. "I'm sure," Kione said, climbing to her shaky feet. She followed the Matron into the Chapel, holding the door for support, but the moment she stepped inside her legs stopped hurting altogether. Her feet felt cool and comfortable on the wood floor of the Chapel. And oddly enough, she didn't have to pee anymore, not even a little. Kione blinked a few times and looked down at her clothes: the same green-trimmed button up and colored pants. Even the Matron in front of her hadn't moved. But everything felt so... different. Kione looked up at the Matron with utmost confusion. What the fuck…? "Hurry along now, little Candy," the Matron said with a smile, gesturing to the door. "I imagine your friends will be wondering where you’ve been since yesterday." Yesterday? No… there was no way. Kione didn’t even have time to blink. It was a trick. But everything felt wrong, slightly off balance. Like a spot the differences puzzle she couldn’t solve. When the Matron tried to usher her out of the Chapel, Kione shouted: "Wait!" The Matron looked curiously. "Is there something you need to confess?" "N-no, I... I said I have to go to the bathroom!" "Do you?" The Matron asked, tilting her head. "Well, I..." No, Kione didn't have to go anymore. "But…" "Potty breaks take an awful long time," the Matron said simply. "Now you should hurry along." "But... I... I'm..." Just like last time - which could have only been a few hours ago - the Matron turned Kione around and swatted her butt once to move her forward, out the door of the Chapel. Kione looked down the hill at the empty playground. The sun had set and everything was lit eerily by the moonlight. It looked like all the color in the whole world was sucked out of it. Kione felt tears in her eyes and she didn't know why. With a lot less effort than it took getting up the hill, Kione made her way down and across the blacktop. Her feet were still bare, but the grass was cold.

Chapter Three Kione approached the building with a huff. The wooden door was bigger than a normal door; maybe to make her feel smaller? That seemed like a lot of effort for something so trivial. Then again, she did feel very small compared to the Matrons. She looked over her shoulder to ensure nobody was watching, and then stepped up to the door. The doorknob was almost up to Kione's collarbone, but it opened with a click. She stepped inside the small building, which was mostly empty but for a few tables and chairs. The layout didn't look like a classroom though; the tables were far apart and each had two chairs on opposite sides. The wooden floor felt cold and hard on her bare feet; it certainly felt real. Notably, there was no other door. And even more notably, there was no Matron. "Where could she have gone...?" Kione mused to herself. Just then, the door closed behind her and the Matron with the long braid approached her. "Ahh, is something troubling you, little Candy?" That word again. Kione knew it meant something, but she still couldn't put her finger on it. "I want to go home, I don't belong here; you made a mistake." Kione asserted, her chest buzzing with adrenaline. It felt like a very ‘fight or flight’ kind of moment. "I made a mistake, little Candy? But it wasn't my will or decision to bring you here. Your destiny is much greater." "What does that mean?!" Kione was getting worked up, and the Matron could tell. With the wave of her hand, she motioned to one of the tables. "Take a seat. You're new here, so I'll explain the Chapel to you. Though undoubtably the other Candies would do so." Kione sighed and walked over to the table. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to play things their way. She took a seat and the Matron took a seat across from her. Sitting down, she seemed a lot less daunting. It actually put Kione at ease. "This room is for you to discuss the things you've done wrong, and gain absolution from the Matrons," the Matron said simply. "That way, you may be accepted into the Ever After." "I haven't done anything wrong," Kione said flatly. "You're the ones that won't let me leave." "If you have nothing to disclose, you have no purpose in the Chapel," the Matron said plainly. She stood up and motioned to the door. How far would willfulness get Kione? If she stayed at that table, would the Matron throw her out? Could she fight the Matron? One huge middle-aged white woman against a black girl that's light on her toes? Kione wasn't a fighter, but she might have taken that bet if her legs weren't so sore and her feet didn't hurt so badly. So with an irritated scoff, she got off the chair and headed out of the Chapel. Most of the children were gone, but surprisingly four were waiting for her, all dressed in a different color. "Oh, you were right Robin," said a girl dressed in green, with matching ribbons in her hair and braces on her teeth. "She does look brave." "I told you, Callie," Robin replied, wearing red as always. A person in blue, and a boy in yellow, rounded out the quartet, but neither of them spoke. "Can I help you?" Kione asked, in a cross between annoyance and her new-client-who-needs-hand-holding voice. They didn't mix very well, and it showed Kione's emotional state very plainly. She wasn't having a good day. "You can help one of us," the boy in yellow offered, an uncertain look on his face. "I'm Casa." Kione looked from the blue kid to Casa to Robin to Callie. They were team leaders; that much was obvious. She would help one of them and not the other three. But which one was she helping? "So how do I get picked for a team?" Kione asked. "Is that what the Joining is?" If she was good at anything, it was inferences. "Yes, that's what the Joining is," Callie confirmed, but Robin did the introductions: "I'm Robin. This is Callie. Zee is the one in blue. And that's Casa in yellow." "Ahem?" The boy in yellow cleared his throat expectantly and both girls groaned. "Alright, alright! Sheesh." Robin rubbed the bridge of her nose and tried again. "This is Casa, the Braveheart." Clearly this was another game Kione didn't understand, but she went along with it all the same. "So, do I pick my own team? Or do you pick me?" "Nation," Casa corrected her. "Not team." "One of us will pick you," Zee said, finally pulling their thumb out from between their lips. "Umm... you're prolly notta Blueberry tho." "What? Why not?" Kione asked. "Too big," Zee answered. Too big? Kione thought. Big, like size? Or big like grown up? After all, it was Zee who was sucking their thumb. With unprecedented resignation, Kione finally sat down on the grass right there in front of the four nation leaders. Her legs were shaking from the stress and her brain was fried from all the new information. An invisible dinner, a giant caretaker that didn’t make any sense, and four oversized children dressed like a box of crayons. Kione was well and truly done. The leaders exchanged looks. Casa shrugged his shoulders and whispered, maybe so that Kione couldn't hear, though she could: "I like that other girl more." Kione groaned and covered her face with her arms. Casa started back down the hill and Zee hurried after him. Robin crossed her arms over her chest and Callie stepped forward to stand over Kione. "You wanna come play?" she asked. "No," Kione said with a sigh of exhaustion. "I want to lie right here until I can think of a way out." As far as Kione could tell, the team that picked her didn't matter. It was arbitrary, like Hogwarts houses. Categories for the sake of categories, maybe for a sense of belonging? But Kione didn't want to belong - she wanted to be anywhere else. "You should come play," Callie repeated, a little more assertively, before standing over top of Kione and then sitting down on her tummy. Kione was surprised, though not by Callie’s weight. Rather, Kione's brain couldn't parse the unusual crinkling coming from under Callie’s dress. It rang with uncharacteristic familiarity in Kione's ears. "Don't put so much energy into that sour puss, Callie," Robin scoffed. "I'm going to play before the Joining." Robin turned and headed down the hill, but Callie stayed where she was on top of Kione. Green was a good color on her, and her smile seemed genuine. Maybe that was what softened Kione's resolve, or maybe it was Callie's next words. "I know it's weird at first, but give us a chance. You can be so happy here, if you just let yourself." "I was happy before," Kione said forlornly. "Were you?" Callie asked. "How many hours did you work? How much time did you get to play? How many friends did you even have left, after you grew up out of high school?" "I was doing what I wanted to do," Kione answered. "I was helping people. Responsibility isn't just for making money and persisting. It can fulfill you, if you find the right kind of it." Callie nodded in understanding, though it wasn't clear that she understood at all. Then she said, "Well why not help the people here? We can't get to the Ever After until we're the best we can be. You could have a purpose here." Kione hadn't thought of that. These people... they weren't in their right minds. Weird regression cults weren't Kione's expertise, but regression was just a coping mechanism. This place taught them that it was the way to resolve their problems. But coping mechanisms weren't solutions; they were the things that let you stay alive long enough to find solutions. "And..." Callie added with a bright little smile that seemed to make her entire verdant form glow, "if you find your own way to the Ever After, isn't that all the better?" In her excitement, Callie shifted left and right on top of Kione’s stomach and the crinkling echoed across the empty hilltop. "Callie..." Kione, realizing the two of them were alone, forced herself to ask an uncomfortable question, one to which she already knew the answer: "Are you wearing a diaper?" "Ah... yeah, well..." Callie blushed a little and rubbed the side of her head. Clearly it was a point of embarrassment, but not enough to lie about it. "Truth is, I'd rather have fun and play and not miss out on stuff. Potty stuff takes forever." "I see..." Kione understood what she meant. Using the toilet wasn't really all that time consuming, but to a kid having fun it was the most inconvenient thing in the world. That's all Callie was now, and Kione had to think of her in terms of that. "Well, if it makes you happy, then good for you." "It'll make you happy too," Callie said happily. If that was what it took for Callie to feel okay with her decisions, then Kione wasn't anyone to argue. "Maybe I'll be a... green?" Kione offered. "A Slytherin?" "Ew, no." Callie held her nose. "Limes aren't evil and we don't like snakes or transphobes. We're curious! I think maybe you'll be good Lime material." "Lime?" Kione asked. "Why not... Apple? Or Watermelon?" "Cause Limes are the best!" Kione shrugged and sat up. Callie was still on her lap, and it made for a weird romcom scenario, if maybe one party wasn't in a diaper and dressed like a first grader. Kione was about to thank Callie for her kindness when the clatter of the door opened behind her. But when Kione looked up, expecting to see a Matron, she saw a young girl with blonde hair and white clothes very similar to her own. "You're back!" Callie shouted, climbing up off Kione. The girl in white tilted her head in confusion. "Back? I was only gone a few minutes..." But as the new girl's eyes scanned Callie, then the playground below, she seemed to become less certain. "Hey, uh..." Kione got to her feet and brushed off her white pants. "I'm Kione. Are you, uh… new?" "I guess so," The blonde-haired girl answered, uncertainty in her eyes. "I was just here, and… I don't know you..." Kione knew that feeling. What had Callie said? Do her best to help the people here, right? Find her Ever After or whatever? "Well, I got here just before food..." Kione said. "Food?" the girl asked. "No... there was no food." "It's... it's complicated." Kione decided not to go into the elaborate and obviously insane explanation of how food appeared through imagination. Instead, she focused on something else: this girl definitely wasn't here for dinner. "Maybe you were here for lunch, and we just missed each other? What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" "Ellie," the blonde girl answered. Now they were getting somewhere! "I'm Kione," she repeated, "and I guess you and Callie know each other?" "Uh huh, she showed up yesterday," Callie answered. "She's another Newborn, who still—" "Yesterday?" Ellie asked, alarm in her voice. "No, I got here today." "Potty breaks take forever," Callie repeated, though she said it to Ellie this time. For Kione, the pieces started falling into place. "Potty breaks take... a day?" Kione asked, full of confusion. "That makes absolutely no sense. They take like five minutes." "Nuhuh. You go potty and you disappear and come back the next day... usually about the same time like... mostly. I think. I can't read time and there aren't any clocks but mostly the same I think." "There is no way using the bathroom takes 24 hours..." Kione scoffed in disbelief. Ellie looked even more confused. "I was just here... I don't..." It sounded like Ellie didn't remember anything. Did they put her to sleep or something? But before Kione could think too much on it, Callie interrupted her thoughts. "It's getting late; there's not much time left to play." Sure enough, the sun had moved across the sky, a floating circle that didn’t hurt Kione’s eyes. Whether or not it was real, Kione still couldn't tell. Either way, it would be dark in an hour or two. On their way down the hill, Kione had the presence of mind to ask Ellie: "What does this place look like to you? Are the colors vibrant, like a pop filter was put over everything? Do you see the sky, or do you see a ceiling?" "I see the sky," Ellie mumbled, "but I guess the colors look a little glossy. Does it look different to you? I thought things always looked the same for everyone." "It does, I... sometimes I see things differently. Sometimes I look at the grass and it looks like plastic." Ellie shook her head and Kione sighed. She thought maybe she had figured something out: maybe new people hadn't been fully caught up in the fantasy of this place. That would mean her hallucinations weren't real - they were a product of the Kindergarten. But now... now Kione didn't know what to believe. Instead of lingering on uncertainty, she decided to push forth with a new question. "You came out of the Chapel, right? But I didn't see you in there. So there must be a secret door or something. Do you remember anything about it?" "No, I just… I needed to go to the bathroom. And I was holding it, trying to figure it out, and then I asked a Matron..." Ellie sounded like she was trying to piece it together, however unsuccessful her attempts might have been, "and then I was coming out of that building, and I don't need to go anymore..." Another dead end. But not all hope was lost: at least Kione was sure where the exit was. "Don't worry, Ellie," Kione soothed, "I'm going to figure this out. I'm going to get us out of here, okay? Don't worry." But despite Kione’s reassurances, Ellie looked like she was worrying quite a bit.

Chapter Two Jumping rope wasn't exactly like riding a bike, but Kione was back in her groove before long. She could finish the whole song at twice the speed as when she started. But after a while on the hot blacktop, her jumps were sloppy. To make matters worse, her legs and arms were still sore from the moment she arrived in that room. Before long, she was struggling to even stay standing. Mercifully, a bell rang from the top of the hill - the hill where Kione had arrived - and all the children stopped playing. Kione looked up to see a building - maybe twenty feet high - with a bell at the top. Standing in front of the building, women in white dresses were setting tables. "What's happening up there?" Kione asked. She’d wanted to ask Robin, but the girl closest to her was the one in blue. She had glasses and freckles, and her hair was woven into a single long plait that went all the way down her back. "Dinna," the girl answered, still with her thumb in her mouth. "Dinner?" Kione clarified, and the girl nodded her head and began to head up the hill with the others. For the first time, Kione felt like she had some options. She could: a) follow them, b) use this chance to snoop around, or c) find a way out of here. As the rest of the children made their way to the hill, like worker bees to a queen, Kione fought the flow of traffic. Her feet were aching and she was struggling to stand, but she pushed forward. Before long, she was at the Ever After Door. The door stood upright in the center of the valley, surrounded by a ring of flowers. Every inch of the door was covered in worn coloring pages and childish drawings, like a shrine. The only thing uncovered - including the frame itself - was a brass doorknob. First, Kione walked around the door. She went to its profile, until it was nothing more than a plank of wood, and around the other side. It was nearly identical - decorated entirely in grade-school artwork - with the exception of the doorknob. She reached out to make sure it was there at all, but before Kione’s fingertips grazed the old, crinkled paper, she was tugged back sharply by the wrist. "You mustn’t touch, poppet, not without permission." The woman’s voice sounded so far away, but she was holding Kione’s wrist. She was wearing one of the white gowns like the women on top of the hill. Kione wasn't short, not by any means, but the woman in front of her was at least a foot taller. She was probably the tallest woman Kione had ever seen. The woman pulled Kione’s wrist and dragged her out of the ring of flowers, spun her around - toward the hill of gathering adult children - and slapped her lightly on the butt to urge her forward. Kione blushed a little and led the way up the hill. "I think there's been a mistake," Kione muttered, looking back at the woman. Even as the ground lilted upward, she was still taller than Kione. "I'm not supposed to be here. There's nothing wrong with me." "Nothing is wrong with anyone who’s here." For a woman so close, she sounded surreally distant, like a whisper on the breeze. "You’re simply on the wrong path, little Candy." Candy? Kione tilted her head. Where had she heard that before...? The rest of the children were already at the top of the hill, but Kione only made it halfway before her knees buckled and she slid into the grass. The sores on her feet from the blacktop, the aching in her thighs from the pink room, and the incline of the hill together was too much for her. Just as Kione was about to give up the climb, the woman bent down, pulled Kione into her arms, and lifted her onto her hip like any adult would a child. Kione was left speechless as the woman carried her to the top of the hill. When Kione finally found words, she asked the woman who was carrying her: "What’s your name?" "I'm a Matron," the Matron said, holding Kione under her butt, legs wrapped around her hips. If she was struggling to carry Kione up the hill, she certainly didn't show it. "But that's not your name, right?" Kione asked. If she could personalize her relationship with this woman, maybe she could get some leverage. But the Matron seemed immune to Kione's pressing questions. Soon, the two of them were at the top of the hill, where four long picnic tables were dressed with plates and bowls. Each table had a congregation with different colored clothes: blue, red, yellow, and green. In other words, one group per table. "Where would you like to sit, little Candy?" the Matron asked. Kione stared blankly at the tables, blindsided by the question. What kind of consequences would this decision have? But ultimately, Kione only had one real acquaintance: Robin. So Kione pointed to the red table. "Ah, a good choice." The Matron - who’d dodged out of telling Kione her name - set Kione down next to Robin with a warm smile and Kione regarded the table with anticipation. "Hi there." Robin waved. "Hi," Kione muttered, looking around the table of empty dishes. There was a plastic plate in front of her, but she didn't see any food. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation. When was the last time she had eaten? The chime of a bell drew Kione's attention. Her Matron was standing beside two others, all in white gowns. One had darker skin, one had short blonde hair, and the other had a long braid over her shoulder. The latter was the one that spoke. "Let us give thanks." All the adults, Matrons included, put their hands together with fingers interlaced. It looked a lot like praying. Kione followed suit, as not to stand out. Being the only white-clad girl in a sea of red-dressed children was enough disparity for her. "We give thanks to the Priestess, to the Matrons, and to each other, for the opportunity to be better." None of the colorfully dressed adults kept any kind of tone or pitch or matching cadence, but they all repeated the words prescribed to them. "May we all find the right path." Yeah, this wasn't like a cult at all, Kione thought sarcastically. But her cynicism was quickly overwhelmed by confusion as the adult kids started grabbing at food and putting it on their plates. Except there was no food. Kione watched with rapt attention as the boy and the girl across from her fought over an invisible biscuit or bread roll or brownie or something. Finally, the boy won and put it in his mouth, chewing happily. Kione felt her heart skip a beat. What was going on? "Um..." "Aren'tcha gonna eat?" Robin asked curiously, before putting some invisible thing between her lips and chewing on it daintily. What was it? Kione couldn't figure it out. Her stomach grumbled. "There's... there's no food," Kione lamented. "If that's whatcha think." Robin chimed back in sing-song tones. As the meal went on, Kione grew more and more uncomfortable. Was there food here? Was this another problem of Kione's? But her hallucinations were often things appearing where they shouldn't be, rather than things disappearing from where they should. There were too many unknown variables; she couldn't ground herself. Kione closed her eyes and tried to focus. If her eyes were playing tricks, maybe her ears or her nose could figure out the answer. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. The sounds of chewing. Biting. Crunching? Air doesn't crunch. Then she smelled french fries and warm apples. When Kione opened her eyes again, the table was filled with food. Chicken nuggets, cornbread, sweet potato pie; an innumerable amount of options. And in front of her, a sippy cup of juice that wasn't there before. What was going on? Kione tentatively reached out, as though someone was going to stop her, or like it was all going to disappear in a heartbeat. Maybe it would. Maybe that's why she quickly scooped a dollop of mac and cheese onto her plate before it had the chance. "This is a trick..." "You can see it?" a girl asked from across the table. Kione stared incredulously; she didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to other people seeing what she saw, not like this. "Should I not?" Kione asked. "No, you should! It just takes Newborns a lot longer, usually. You must have a really good imagination." "Imagination...?" Kione didn't understand. All this food couldn't be imaginary... it smelled like real food. And after she took a bite, dressing her red-plastic spork in mac and cheese, it tasted like real food too. Then again, Kione knew how real imaginary things could seem. "Yuhhuh, you gotta imagine it and most Newborns can't and then they cry and cry and cryyyy about how hungee they are but they just don't have the imaginations." "This isn't imaginary though... it's here... it tastes like…" "Like you want it to taste, mhm!" Kione felt her head swimming. In her attempts to ground herself, she only felt more at sea. "It can't be imaginary," Kione said, more to herself than the new girl. On her left, Robin was looking over at her with skepticism and maybe a mild annoyance. Kione wasn't oblivious to it. "What I mean is," Kione elaborated, "we need food to survive. We need nutrients and calories and stuff. We can't just pretend to eat. That's basic science." "Sciencers," Robin began, "just have good imaginations, that's all." For now, Kione couldn't argue with the children. She didn't have enough information, and however far along they were in the process of indoctrination into this unusual place, they didn't seem to have information to give. So Kione sat and ate her meal, eyeing the sippy cup of juice. She glanced around at everyone else: they all had one too. Eventually, thirst was more important than silliness and she tilted the spout between her lips. It wasn't apple juice, like she expected: it was sweeter... less like a fruit and more like a flavoring. But it was delicious. Some of the kids started getting up from their seats. Without cleaning up or anything, they hurried back down the hill to play. Kione took her time, thinking to herself as she ate. "Are you enjoying your food?" Kione didn't expect for one of the Matrons to speak to her directly. Honestly, so far as she could tell, the women seemed to take a more passive and ever-watchful role in all of this. "It's good…" Kione muttered. "And what are you eating?" asked the Matron, which made Kione’s blood run cold. "I, uh..." Kione looked down at her food, then up at the Matron. It was the same one as before, with the darker skin. "Apple pie?" Kione said it more like a question than an answer. This whole thing felt like she was playing make believe. "Oh, that sounds yummy," the Matron smiled. Kione nodded in agreement before putting down her spork. "Um, listen... I don't know what all this is about. Maybe these other people need help, but I can manage my own symptoms. I need to get back to my life." Truth be told, Kione didn't remember how she got here, but it sure felt like a lot longer than a second between her walk on the street in the amber lights and the brightness of the pink room. It felt like weeks or months or years. Was that feeling real, or was that just her imagination again? "There's nothing there for you, little Candy. The only way back is forward. The only way out is through. You only need to be a good girl, and you'll find yourself happier than perhaps even you could imagine.” Kione was getting a little annoyed with the double speak. She knew how to be polite and ingratiate herself with an audience, but the Matrons weren't her audience: they were her captors. "You aren't listening," Kione said sharply. "Involuntary mental health commitments in Illinois have a maximum of 72 hours without a court proceeding. You have to let me out sooner or later. Put me in front of a judge; let's see what they have to say." "And do you think you're in Illinois, little Candy?" Kione felt her stomach drop. "If you kidnapped me and brought me out of state, that's people trafficking…" "You've such an imagination," the Matron said brightly. "I'm serious," Kione said sharply, standing up so that she could match the height of the Matron, though she didn't come anywhere near her goal. In a weird way, it made her feel smaller. People were supposed to be short when they were sitting, but standing... "You can't keep us here. You have to at least... at least let me call my parents. They need to know where I am." "You’re where you need to be," the Matron said simply. Kione was livid, but what good would it do to act on those emotions? So she balled her hands at her sides and glared up at the Matron until the Matron patted her on the head and walked into the building with the bell. Most of the overgrown children had made their way back down to the blacktop below. Kione looked out at the horizon, at the impossible distance the sky and grass seemed to stretch. An optical illusion? Or more of Kione’s imagination? Kione thought about running down the hill and sprinting through the grass, until this place was just as invisible on the horizon as the rest of the world. Then she remembered what Mr. Sir said in Holes: "we don’t need a fence; we’ve got the only water for a hundred miles". This place was too organized; if the Kindergarten didn’t have a fence, there was a reason for that. No, the exit wasn’t out there. It was closer. Kione looked up again at the building with the bell. Actually, that was the first time Kione had really gotten a look at it. When she arrived on this very hill, it wasn't here. But now, it looked like it had been here for years. It looked a lot like an old-timey school, painted white wood and tall glass windows, with a small tower on the far end. The bell sat ceremoniously at the top of the tower. If there was an exit, it had to be in there.

Thanks! I'm glad I can bring up that kind of nostalgia in people.. it definitely was nostalgic to write this. I had to conjure what it was like in elementary school playing at recess. It feels like so long ago. ?

Hey there readers! I hope you're still enjoying Academy Works. If you wanna start at the beginning (which I recommend, though it's not required!), you should read Academy I (Part 1), Academy B (Part 2), and Academy T (Part 3). Academy K is a bit more like A:T, but there's a lot less direct control. I really like this one because I'm playing with concepts of social manipulation and out-group biases. But I hope it's still fun to read nonetheless! If you want to support me, here's a Patreon link you can go to. Thanks to everyone who reads, likes, and/or leaves comments! ~Mia~ --------------------- Academy KBy Mia Moore "Unbound strength is not found at the end of the hermit’s pilgrimage, but throughout every step." -The Source Chapter One Kione Williams sat nervously at a table in a brightly lit room. The muscles in her arms ached for no good reason as she tried to lift them up off the table's surface. She looked at her pink palms, lighter than the rest of her skin, and stretched her fingers as far as they would allow. It hurt, but in a good way. Kione looked at the walls. They were pink, but every so often they looked green instead. She took a deep breath and counted to four. Hold, and release. The walls were pink, she was sure of it. The last thing Kione remembered was seeing that black van on her street. She was walking home from work and the headlights were off, but the running lights glowed an awkward orange. The whole sidewalk was awash with that same hue. The door of the pink room opened and a man stepped in. He was dressed in a black suit with a clipboard in his hand. Kione took another steady breath as he took a seat across from her. "Hello Kione. My name is Eli. Do you know where you are?" Kione nodded her head. She couldn't remember anything between the growl of that black van and opening her eyes in the pink room, but she knew where she was. How? She couldn't say for sure. "The Academy," Kione answered. Eli nodded slowly. If he was surprised by her answer, he didn't show it. "We are going to help you get better," Eli told her. "The Priestess can fix you." "I appreciate your concern," Kione said evenly, "but I don't need help." Eli opened the file on his desk. He flipped a few pages until he found one that he was looking for. Then he asked: "How long have you been seeing things?" Kione looked away and leaned back in her chair. It always came back to this. "Listen, I'm sure you mean well." That was a lie. For some reason, Kione didn't trust this man any further than she could throw him. And with the way her arms were hurting, and the size of Eli, that wasn't very far at all. "I have it under control. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to leave." "And where do you imagine you’ll be going?" Questions like that were phrased so open-ended, as though there could be any answer in the world. But the way that Eli had phrased it was clear as day that he only had one right answer in mind. Rarely did Kione have only one answer that seemed right. But right now, that was unimportant. Eli was waiting for an answer, and Kione knew she was screwed no matter what she said. "Wonderland? With the White Rabbit, and the Queen of Hearts?" "You’re a funny one,” Eli replied, dryly. He wasn’t smiling. "What color are the walls, Kione?" "Pink," Kione said without hesitation. "Are you sure?" Eli asked, tilting his head to the side. "Yes." Kione had made up her mind: the walls were pink. Certainty was never something she could stumble into on accident anymore; she had to make her own certainty. Eli got up from the table and walked to the door. He opened it and stepped outside. "Are you coming?" he asked. Kione nodded and stood up. The muscles in her thighs started to ache and her knees buckled beneath her. She braced herself on the table and steadied herself, then she followed Eli out of the room. Wherever he was taking her, it was better than sitting in that chair. As Kione followed down the hall, she noticed her feet. Bare. Where had her shoes gone? She noticed her pants next - white cotton, the texture of hospital scrubs - and a matching button up shirt. She probably looked like an orderly out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Kione didn't like the resemblance. At the end of the long white hall was a single door. Eli led the way through it, outside and into the sunlight. It took a moment for Kione’s eyes to adjust. There was grass - too green, like a Hollywood movie set - and a consistent blue sky with clouds that didn’t seem to move. And the sound of... children playing? Giggling? Kione looked down the hill she stood atop, Eli by her side, at the scene below her. From up there, they looked like children, but something in her head told her otherwise. Adults. All adults, like her. But acting like children. Dressed like children. Some played hopscotch. Some played tag. Some were tossing a ball around. A few dozen, maybe fifty. "What is this?" Kione asked. "Salvation," Eli responded. She looked around the large space; the adult children played in the center of a pentagonal valley, with five hills that formed the shape of a star. Past that, there was nothing but a sea of grass. Atop each of the other four hills there were structures. Not houses, not buildings... but playground equipment, like you might have expected to find in a school yard. Or, well, a really expensive school yard, like one of those private schools that churned out damaged adults. "I don't understand how this is supposed to—" Kione turned to Eli, but he wasn't there. The door where she came out wasn't there either. She hesitated at the space where she expected the door should be and reached out to touch it, but her hand went right through. There was no door. Was Eli real? Was any of this? Kione took a deep breath. Five things she could see. The massive blacktop at the bottom of the hill, with adults playing hopscotch. Swing sets in lines of six, flanked on both sides with colorful seats. Picnic tables and swaths of blankets decorating the sides of the other four hills. Huge play-scapes - or maybe small play-towns - on each of the hills, painted in different colors: red, yellow, blue, and green. And finally, in the center of the valley, adorned with pictures and ornaments, a large door stood upright. A door that didn't seem to go anywhere at all. Maybe things she could see was a bad place to start. Kione closed her eyes and took another breath. Four things she could feel. The sharp grass beneath her feet. The slight breeze against her forehead. The ache of her legs as she stood. The gravity pulling on her, tilted every so slightly forward. Three things she could hear. Laughter. Bouncing balls. Music, like from a music box. Two things she could smell. Grass, like it was recently cut, though it didn't look like it had been. Kione knew always to trust her nose over her eyes. And lavender. One thing she could taste. Moisture. Humidity. She was thirsty, and this place was alive. When Kione opened her eyes again, it was just in time to see a group of kids - or adults dressed like kids - walking up the hill toward her. "I saw her first!" "Nuhuh, Marky saw her first an' told you an' I saw her before that!" "Nuhuh." "Yuhhuh." "She looks like a Banana." "You wouldn't even know a Banana!" "I am a Banana!" "I think she's umm... she's defi...defin... um. She's a Cherry!" The chittering of the group of would-be-children terminated when the group of six made it to the top of the hill. A girl - a woman, in a pretty gingham dress the color of freshly picked red apples - was the first to speak directly to Kione. "Welcome to the Kindergarten!" "I... thank you..." Kione paused and looked at the six residents. Each was dressed very specifically, with a dominant color and an accent of white. White socks, white hair ties, white frills along the hems of their dresses. Even the boys wore shirts with white sleeves or white laces on their shoes. Two green, two yellow, two red... but no blue. "I'm sorry," Kione apologized, though she hadn't done anything wrong. "What is this place, exactly? And do you know where the exit is?" "Oh gosh." "Oh golly." "Oh goodness." "We just said it's the Kindergarten," a girl in green echoed, but she didn’t sound annoyed about it. "And there's no exit, this is your home now. What's your name?" "I'm sorry, but I can't stay here." Kione skipped over the whole name thing. If these adults really were children, then it was best they didn't get attached to her. "I have a job; I'm a counsellor. If I don't get back to my clients soon, they'll worry about me. You understand, don't you?" "Nuhuh." "Nope." "She's definitely a Blueberry..." "I'm Robin," continued the girl in the red gingham dress who did the introductions. "I know it's confusing but you'll be okay. Tonight there's gonna be a Joining when the others get here, an' then you'll feel more at home." "I... I'm really sorry, but I can't..." Kione wasn't getting anywhere, and she knew it. She looked around the hilly parkway again, then down at the door in the center of it all. Free-standing on a frame with no wall. They saw it too, didn't they? "That door," Kione asked. "Does it go anywhere?" The kids exchanged awkward looks, but Robin spoke up right away. "That's the Ever After. When we earn it, the Priestess will open the door and lead us through. But only one of us gets to go at a time. So we gotta be on our best behavior." Kione nodded in understanding. This place was some kind of cult. An indoctrination of sorts. She'd suffered through enough loneliness and ostracism that Kione knew how important it was to belong. But her knowledge gave her power too. They wouldn't sway her so easily. Nonetheless, Kione always was good at putting on a face. "What do you mean 'Priestess'?" "Well when—" one of the others began to explain, but Robin shushed him with a wave of her hand. She shook her head softly, before taking over the explanation. "After the Joining, your leader will explain everything to you." Nobody seemed willing to argue with Robin, and when nobody else spoke up, she continued. "Do you Double Dutch?" "Um..." It seemed like such a non-sequitur. A yellow-shirted boy chimed in: "It's a dumb skipping game for girls." "Shut up, Wesley," the girl wearing a yellow dress snapped back and rolled her eyes. "It's not dumb you're just bad at it." "Cause I'm not a girl." "Maybe you should be, you keep talking about it!" He puffed out his cheeks and went quiet. Robin continued: "It's a game. Do you know how to play? Come down wif' us, okay?" Robin was mostly eloquent, but with some misspoken words here and there. It was weird. Cute, but weird. Kione followed the group down the hill, looking back at where she came from. There was no playscape at the top of it. It was different. Why was it different? Soon Kione and the others made it to the bottom of the hill and the grass made way for blacktop. The small, dull stones and the sun-soaked ground made the bottoms of Kione's feet hurt. A lot of other kids - all dressed primarily in one of the four colors - looked her way, but nobody else approached to make an introduction. Robin seemed to have an odd level of control over the whole situation. Maybe she's the leader, Kione wondered. If she is, then she's the best ally. And the most dangerous enemy. "You didn' tell me your name," Robin prompted again, "an' I can't introduce you if you don't tell me your name." The boys split away to play their games, and the other two girls - one in green and one in yellow - led her to where a gaggle of girls were jumping rope. "Kione." In the end, ingratiating herself and earning the trust of the residents would benefit her more than keeping her distance. If Kione learned anything from work, it was that rapport was everything. "Well Kione, it's nice to meet you. Come this way." As Robin approached, the mixture of girls - in reds, blues, yellows, and greens - wound down their rhythmic chant. They looked at Kione excitedly. "This is Kione," Robin said. "Hi Kione!" They all intoned, in unison, like addressing a school teacher. "Is there gon' be a Joining tonight?" one of the girls in blue asked. She had her thumb in her mouth and it drew Kione's attention. She sure seemed to take this 'dress like a kid' thing a little too far. But then again, this whole place seemed a bit too Wonderland for Kione. Maybe she shouldn’t have made that joke with Eli. "There is, but let's just play for now." Robin smiled, and turned to Kione. "Do you wanna do Miss Mary Mack? Or Teddy Bear? Or is there another jump rope game you like most?" "I, uh. Miss Mary Mack would be great." Kione hadn't jumped rope since she was in grade school, but she was pretty damn good. She hoped that jump rope was like riding a bike, and she wouldn't humiliate herself in front of a bunch of overgrown school children. As Kione stepped into the middle of the two jump ropes, the girls on either end - one in yellow, one in red - began mercifully slow. "Miss.... Mary.... Mack, Mack, Mack....all dressed in black, black, black, with silv-" Kione made it about that far before tripping, and the plastic ropes caught in her feet. There were laughs and giggles, but nothing too condescending. Nothing like how an adult would make fun of someone or discourage them for trying. It just seemed like the kids were having fun, and Kione didn't know what to make of that. "I wanna try again," Kione declared.

Chapter Fourteen "Please, Mommy... please, I need a change, please..." Mommy had just finished changing Tomás's diaper and setting him in Talita's crib. On the other hand, Talita's diaper was so wet that it sagged heavily between her legs. If she had to sleep in it, she would get a rash for sure. She might even leak! Tears dripped down her cheeks, but her Mommy simply ignored them. "Mommmyyyyy!" Talita hated leaking, she hated it more than just about anything else she could feel, because leaking was one of the few things that made her feel like her wearing diapers wasn’t a good thing. Mommy and Daddy praised her for wearing diapers, encouraged her, loved her, taught her, cherished her and rewarded her. Beyond a doubt, diapers were where Talita belonged. But when she leaked, it did raise doubts; it made her start to wonder if they were made for her. And she hated doubt... "Tomás.... um! Please, Big Brother? Mommy can’t hear me, and I’m gonna leak and I’ve been so good..." "Mommy?" Tomás asked nervously, leaning on the edge of the crib bars. His eyes were already sleepy; bedtime was routine in all parts of Town. "Can you pretty please change Tali's diaper?" Mommy tilted her head. "Who?" "Talita... my, um. My little sister?" "Oh, sweetie..." Mommy cooed. "You don't have a little sister. Maybe we'll get you one tomorrow, how's that?" With a kiss on the top of the head and a loving goodnight, Mommy left Tomás alone in the crib. She clicked the door shut on the way out, effectively locking Talita inside. She had forgotten how door knobs worked ages ago, like Claire. "F-fine..." Talita rubbed the tears from her eyes and went to the changing table. "I'll do it myself... I can do it myself..." Talita tugged the rocking chair over to the changing table. She pulled at the cabinet of diapers beneath the table, and surprisingly the doors opened without a problem. She took out one of the diapers with princess crowns on them and looked at it with bewilderment. How was this thing supposed to go on her body? Tali was soft and curved and round in some places, like a... like a circle! And this thing was... was um... like that one... like a house without a roof, like um.... Like a square! This couldn’t be right. "I don’.... I don’ unnerstan’... where are my diapers…?" Tomás stared sleepily through the crib bars. Talita looked up at him and back at the square of plastic. She had no idea what to do with it. But she knew she needed the current diaper off her body! So she set down the square plastic and pulled up her dress instead. She was still wearing her school dress, and it kept falling in the way. She tried to take it off completely, but she couldn't figure out how to pull it off over her head. Finally, she wound up flat on the floor, with the skirt pulled up over her while trying to pull down the diaper like a pair of underwear. It didn't work. And like every other time Talita got frustrated, she began to cry again. This was the worst night of her life. She wailed and fussed and wriggled on the carpet until her diaper leaked, and she was overwhelmed with a sense of failure. She was a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad student, a bad Candy, a bad friend, a bad girl. And she wished the soggy carpet under her butt would just open up and swallow her whole. Talita cried loudly at first. Then softly. Then exhaustion took over and she started to fall asleep while crying. Every so often, the crying would wake her up and she'd start all over again. The delirious cycle continued for the better part of an hour before Tomás sat up in the crib. "Tali, c'mere." "Nuh uh..." "Tali, I'm your big brother, so c'mere!" His voice almost sounded stern! Not that Candies could really be stern, but it reminded Talita of her Daddy just a little bit. So she sat up in the puddle on the carpet and looked up at her brother. "Bring the chair," Tomás encouraged. Talita did as she was told. She obeyed her big brother, tugging the chair across the room so it was adjacent to the crib. She climbed on top of it and Tomás reached his hands through the bars to make a little step for her feet. She was still wearing her school shoes - she couldn't figure out how to take them off. "What are you doing?" Talita muttered through her sobs. "Helping you in the crib," Tomás answered. "I'll get it wet... I'll get you wet..." Fresh tears dripped down Talita's cheeks. "I’m already wet, dummy. I’m a Candy." His joke was paired with a cute and charming smile, the kind of cheeky grin that few people could produce as effectively as a big brother. It was like he was made for the role. "It’s jus’ pee anyway who cares? Les’ cuddle, okay? It’ll be okay.” Talita looked into her brother's eyes - shining with certainty - and nodded her head. She put her shoe on Tomás's hands and pushed herself over the top of the crib rails. She landed roughly in the center of the mattress, squishing and leaking all over the sheets. Immediately, she began to wail. "Shh, shh, shh!" Tomás wrapped his arms around his sister, and he pulled her head into his chest. This position, this embrace, this pose... it all felt so familiar. It felt like it was as hard coded into the two of them as breathing. For Tali, it felt warm. Talita put her head on the pillow, facing out at the nursery. She was so exhausted, but she felt too sick to sleep. Tomás had draped his arm over her stomach, pulling her tight in a cuddle. A regular big-spoon little-spoon situation. And once again, Talita was the little one. For so many months, she had been fighting this place. Then she learned to accept it. To trust it. But a part of her would always be fighting. Maybe that was cultural or familial, but standing down was never an option for Talita. Now Tomás was here; her brother, as far as she could know. He had the same family, the same culture, the same upbringing. Sure, he was a boy, but how different could they really be? Talita whimpered and felt a pang of discomfort in her stomach. She tried to roll away from her brother, but he pulled her close in his sleep. The seat of her diaper was pressed firmly to the front of his. She tried to hold it, but she couldn't. Talita was always destined to be a little sister. Despite everything, despite the nightmare of the Bad Girl day, despite her tantrums, and her hunger, and the fact she’d fallen asleep in a boy's arms while messing her diaper, Talita had one of the best night’s sleep she’d ever had. But the true joy came when Talita woke up to her Mommy’s voice. "Ohhh look at you, look at my little Tali, Mommy’s little precious princess, all cuddled up with your big brother! You two look SO darling, my goodness." Mommy lowered the crib bars and lifted Talita out of the crib, helping her to her feet. The rocking chair had already been put back in the corner of the room. "Goodness, you sure are a stinky little girl, huh? And look - you leaked all over your sheets. Clearly you need some thicker diapers, don't you think?" Talita nodded her head with a bright smile, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. As long as Mommy kept showering her with attention and love, she'd wear anything! "Let's clean you up," Mommy cooed. "Then I'll get to your brother. Little sisters always go first, did you know that?" Talita shook her head as her Mommy helped her onto the changing table. Mommy untaped her blown out diaper and started the long, arduous process of cleaning up her smelly baby, but if she was unhappy with it even for a moment, it certainly didn't show. Talita's Mommy hummed a soft tune as she wiped, powdered, and diapered her little princess. "Mommy...?" Tali asked, looking up at her Mommy with happy stars in her eyes. "What is it, sweetie?" Mommy asked, tucking Talita's curly hair behind her ear. "What other stuff do little sisters get?" Mommy smiled, kissed Talita gingerly on the forehead, and whispered: "Everything." [End.] -------------- Thanks for reading!! And thanks especially to the commenters and the likers! I wanted to write an ending that was a little happier (??) than the previous story. I know people are curious about what's going on with Mrs. Hopper and the weird markers. I promise you'll get a few more answers in the next installment! I'm working on it now. Stay tuned for more Academy Works in the coming weeks! ~Mia Moore~ -------------- Edit: Here's the next story in the series: Academy K!

Chapter Thirteen Every Bad Girl Day started much the same way. At first, Talita didn't care. She played with her toys and colored in her books. Everything was ordinary. But this time, Tomás was still there. He played quietly in the living room and Talita did her best to ignore him. After a few hours, Talita - like always - wanted attention. She started screaming for her Mommy and Daddy, but they didn't come. She started knocking stuff off the table, pulling off the couch cushions, and coloring on the walls with crayons. At least if they locked her in the playpen, that would be something! But as her Daddy paced the kitchen, starting dinner, he didn't even acknowledge the messes she was making. The smell of barbecue ribs filled the house. Talita watched her Daddy mashing potatoes. She felt a sliver of drool drip down her chin before quickly wiping it away. In a huff, she went over to her new brother and shoved him. "This is your fault!” "Taliiii, don’t push pretty please!" He didn’t even sound angry or hurt or upset. Honestly, as the older brother, it was his job to know better when his baby sister was acting out. That was what Mommy and Daddy had said. "Do you wanna play wif’ me? I got toy cars, this one's name is Thunder St. King, and this one is Fast Driver, and thi—" She screamed. Talita screamed, and her brother pouted. "Um! Maybe we could color then?” Talita walked away from Tomás in a huff. Nothing was working! Talita thought for sure she could think of something that worked, but nothing was getting Daddy's attention. Mommy wasn't even in the room. So Talita went to the stairs and climbed up all on her own. She had an ounce of fear near the top - she never did this without holding Mommy's hand these days - but she made it just the same. Talita shook the door handle to her parents' room. It didn't turn. She kicked and pounded on the door, but there was no answer. "MOMMY!" Nothing. Talita sank to the floor and crossed her arms. If her Mommy wanted to wait, then Talita could wait too. She would have to come out eventually! There was something about being a Candy that meant being ignored was about the worst possible thing in the world. So lavished in attention and affection were these girls and boys, that without it... well, they’d rather go without food, water, sleep, anything else. "MoMMMeee!" Tali whined and pawed at the door. "I’ll be good..." She whispered, to herself. After a few more minutes, the door opened. Talita clamored to her feet as her Mommy stepped past her and headed down the stairs. "Mommy!" Talita called out, following her. But when she got to the stairs, she hesitated. Without her Mommy's hand, she couldn't walk down them on her own. So she got on her butt - which squished beneath her - and took each step one at a time. By the time she got to the bottom, her parents were at the dinner table and Tomás was sitting in Talita's high chair. "That’s MY highchair!!" She was losing it. She was absolutely losing it. This boy had come into her life and made everything bad and her Mommy and Daddy were doting over him and ignoring her and she couldn’t take it anymore, she couldn’t! "MOMMY! DADDY! PLEASE! PITY PEASE!” "How are your potatoes, Tomás?" Mommy asked the boy in the high chair. "Do you need me to help feed you?" "N-nuh uh..." Tomás looked nervously at his food and at his little sister, standing at the bottom of the stairs with tears in her eyes. "Try not to make a mess, okay?" Mommy cooed and reached over to pinch her baby boy's cheek. Already, Tomás had dropped pieces of broken-apart barbecue ribs on his bib. In pure, unfiltered anger, Talita waddled over to the table, climbed up on one of the chairs, grabbed at a plate of potatoes, and swatted it to the floor. It shattered on the tile, ruining all the hard work that Daddy put into it. Talita's guilt started to overwhelm her, but it was worth it. She was sure she'd get punished! But her parents didn't even flinch. Her Daddy stood up and went to get the dustpan, and her Mommy stood up to fetch some more potatoes off the stovetop; as though none of this had happened. As though Talita didn’t exist. A ghost might as well have knocked them off, and maybe they’d have given more attention to a ghost. Talita climbed off the chair and waddled over to Tomás. She didn't have a plan. Maybe push the high chair until he fell out of it? Then she could climb in. But on her way to the high chair, she lost her balance and fell flat on her squishy diaper. Her parents didn't even glance at her, but Tomás stared quietly. In embarrassment, Talita got to her feet and went back into the living room to be alone. She sat quietly with her head in her lap. Her passion and fire had fizzled out. She'd tried everything to get their attention, and the only person that even cared she existed was Tomás. Talita's stomach jealously growled. Maybe... Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to have a brother? Maybe she could just be a good girl. Maybe it would be nice to have someone to always play with. A boy was different, but maybe not so bad? She had visions of putting his pretty hair in pigtails, or getting matching outfits. Maybe... But right now, all the maybes in the world weren’t worth anything. Talita was ready to be a good girl, but her Mommy and Daddy weren’t ready to see it. Tomás was placed in the playpen after dinner, after Mommy and Daddy cleaned him up. The playpen was out of Talita's reach, though if she tried really hard she could probably climb in. Then she wouldn't be able to climb out again, and no one was going to help her right now. Instead, she went to the kitchen. She tried to open the fridge, but there was a little mechanism on the side that she didn't understand. She pulled on one of the cupboards where she knew Mommy kept her animal crackers, but ran into the same problem. Her stomach growled again and she felt queasy. "Daddy," Talita muttered, pulling on her father's pant leg. "Please, I have some food... please...?" Not an ounce of acknowledgement. Talita felt tears in her eyes. How was she supposed to survive without her Mommy and Daddy? Why did she think she knew what was best for herself? She only had one option, there was only one thing left she could do. She had to be a baby sister. Talita found Tomás in the playpen in the living room, playing with little toy cars. She stepped up to the wall of the playpen and looked at her own feet. "Um... um... Tomás...? Big... Big Brother…?" She hated saying that, she hated it! But... "Could you ask Mommy and Daddy... um... for some food for me? Pretty please?" "Oh." Tomás stared at her like she had said something amazing, like she solved a universal problem. "I didn't think of that." "Yeah, well..." Talita stood at the edge of the playpen with pink cheeks, biting her lip. "Daaaaaaddy!" Tomás yelled. Even his yelling was quiet. Everything Tomás did was so soft and gentle. Predictably, Daddy poked his head into the room. "Hm? What's up, champ?" "Can I have some... um..." Tomás looked at Talita. "Animal crackers," Talita muttered. "And, um. Juice..." "Animal crackers and juice, please?" The scheme wasn't discrete at all. Talita's Daddy watched her answer the question. Everyone knew that the snacks weren't for Tomás. But all the same, Daddy answered, "Sure thing. Comin' right up," and disappeared back into the kitchen. "Thank you so so so so much..." Tali whispered to her would-be brother, and the boy smiled proudly in return. "Tha’s what Big Brothers are for, Tali! Taking care of baby sisters, even when they’re in trouble." Talita didn’t like the sound of any of that, but as their Daddy returned with the crackers and juice, Tali couldn’t bring herself to argue with the results. Maybe... this wasn’t so bad? Tomás passed the sippy cup of juice and the little bowl of animal crackers through the playpen bars. Talita quickly munched them down and sunk into the carpet outside the playpen. For months, she had been on the same eating schedule; missing a meal like that made her feel terrible. "I dun wanna make you sad, y’know? They said umm... that you had the best Mommy and Daddy in the whole town, and cause my other ones went away, it was good if I got the best ones. I hope... it's okay to share? I promise to be a good brother." "It's not that," Talita said with a pout. "I just... don't want you to be their favorite..." Talita and Tomás were both quiet for a moment until Talita got the nerve to speak again. This was hard for her. "I'm not always a good girl... like today. I mess up and I argue and... and Mommy and Daddy love me anyway. But if you're here, they'll know I'm bad, and maybe they'll stop loving me..." Talita wiped the tears from her eyes. "I dun try to be bad. It just takes a lot longer for me to learn than most Candies. I'm probably the worst one in Town…" "Your... um… I mean our Mommy said you were the best one in Town... she said that if I try to be like you, I’ll be the happiest Candy inna whole town. She said that sometimes you’re umm... sometimes you get cranky, but deep down you don’t mean to, and you’re always trying, and trying to be good is the best thing inna whole world for a Candy, that’s what she said." "She did...?" Talita asked around the spout of her sippy cup. "Mmhmm." Talita nodded her head and sat quietly. Maybe this whole sibling thing didn't have to be so bad. Maybe she could share her parents and it wouldn't be weird. Share parents with Tomás... "Didn't we have the same parents before we got sick?" Talita asked. "Mmhmm." "I dun remember you," she said. "I dun remember you either," he said. For some reason, Talita thought that bit was very important. But now that she had it in the forefront of her mind, she couldn't remember why that mattered. It felt a lot like using the toilet; that used to matter so much. Now she couldn't remember why. Her illness must be getting worse. "But if we had the same parents before," Talita went on, pausing in thought. Tomás finished it for her. "Then it's not so weird if I'm your brother." "Uh huh. And I'm your sister." Talita and Tomás both nodded in unison, though neither was looking at the other. It seemed that line of reasoning was enough for the both of them.

Chapter Twelve All day, Talita was quiet. Her head felt tired and sick. Anytime a thought came to her, it felt like a shape in water vapor. She would reach out and try to grab it, only for her hand to go straight through. She remembered getting home from Tomás's house. She remembered eating breakfast with her parents. She remembered feeling normal. After that, the next thing she remembered was waking up from her nap. She remembered staring blankly at the mobile and filling her diaper. She remembered the drool pooling on her pillow. She remembered sitting in the living room with her toys. She remembered wanting to play, but her body wouldn't move. She remembered screaming, but no sound came out. She remembered crying, but no tears got her parents' attention. She remembered wanting to die. Quiet Days always ended like that, a little bit. You were so trapped in your own body that you'd do anything to be untrapped. Talita knew she would be better by morning, but the promise of tomorrow didn't assuage the present. That night, Talita didn't have any dreams. Not even sleep could coax a thought out of the mindless girl. "Hey, sweetie. Feelin' better today?" Talita's Mommy rubbed her cheek. The crib bars had been lowered and her Mommy's smile was the first thing Tali saw. It made Talita well up with joy. "Uhhuh...." Talita half cooed, half gurgled, with a happy little smile behind her pacifier. Feeling better was such an interesting term, because ever since coming here, coming to this place where her condition could be managed, everything felt better. Here, she had her Mommy and her Daddy, her best friend and all her other friends too. Here in Town, where she belonged, Talita had peace. And it was nice, for a change, not to be at war. Not with anybody. And not with herself. Mommy asked if she was feeling better? What an understatement. Talita's Mommy picked her up and set her down on the changing table. She made quick work of changing Talita's diaper, dressing her into a fresh one with no complaints from her little girl. Then she stood Talita on her two feet, and she almost fell down. Maybe walking was getting to be too hard in her advanced condition. "Um, is school today?" Talita asked, focusing on keeping her balance. "Yep, it's Friday," Talita's Mommy said, getting a clean school dress out of the closet. "I missed a day?" Talita asked, tilting her head. That made sense. "School was cancelled," her Mommy encouraged. "A lot of the Candies got sick." Sick - in this sense - meant that they had Quiet Days just like Talita. The woman wearing nothing but a diaper nodded in understanding. "I feel sorry um... when school is cancelled, ‘cause what do the teachers do? They come to school and then no Candies is there, so then what do they do, Mommy? I think maybe that's when they draw all the drawings that we color in. It must take a lot of time to draw enough of the same drawings for everyone." Talita's Mommy smiled warmly and kissed her daughter on the top of the head. She wasn't much taller than Talita, but she was always good at making her little girl feel small. "Yes, sweetie. I think that's probably what they do. But I bet they appreciate the time to catch up on making coloring pages." Talita's Mommy finished dressing her for school, complete with pigtails, frilly socks, and buckle shoes. She took her daughter downstairs for a breakfast of pancakes - Talita's favorite meal. Then her Daddy took her to school like any other day. She went to classes like every other day. She had lunch with Claire like every other day, and fought off Shae's brattiness like every other day. She was picked up from school like any other day, strapped into her stroller like any other day, and pushed out the doors by her Daddy like any other day. But when Talita got home, her day was unlike any other she could remember. She walked in to find her Mommy and Tomás sitting together on the floor of the living room. Talita waved softly and looked up at her Daddy for answers. "Sit down, princess," he told her, lifting her up and plopping her down on the couch with a crinkle. Her Mommy spun around on the floor so she was looking up at her daughter. "This might be a little weird at first," she started, using a serious tone, "but Tomás is going to be your new brother.” "...but I don’t want a brother." Something about her words felt - all at the same time - like she was lying, like she was nostalgic, like she had déjà vu, like someone else had said them with her voice. It caught her off guard and her eyes started to water. "Tali Tali!" The boy's chipper, bright, and hopeful voice brought things back into focus, "you’re gonna be my sister!” "Nuh uh," Talita said sharply, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff. "I dun want a brother! He can get his own Mommy and Daddy!" Talita's Daddy sighed and her Mommy put on a fake smile. "He has no other Mommy and Daddy, Tali. His parents left Town a few weeks ago. The committee has been trying to decide what to do about it, and you two are already friends." "No!" Talita shouted. "Talita," her Daddy said sharply, "this isn't your decision. You're a little girl. Your Mommy and I have decided to help Tomás—" "NO! I DUN WANT TO!” Tali didn’t mean to. She’d woken up in such a good mood, in such a happy space, she’d had such a good day. But the frustration came from deep within her, like a volcano exploding under the ocean. She reached into her pocket, clutched her binkie, and she threw it. She threw it as hard as she could, which wasn’t hard, but the act itself, and the target... those were the true sins here. She threw it at her Mommy. And it hit. Her parents shared a glance and Talita's heart skipped a beat. She should apologize: she knew that much! But instead, she doubled down. She crossed her arms tighter and looked away from her parents. "We thought you were past that kind of behavior," her Daddy said sharply. "Are you looking for another Bad Girl day?" "I dun wanna cause trouble," Tomás said nervously, to which his new Mommy pulled him in for a hug. "You're no trouble at all," she said. "Tali is just a very bratty little girl who throws tantrums when she can't get her way." "I do not!" Talita shouted, her hands balled at her sides. "Watch your tone, little lady," Daddy said to Talita, then turned to his wife. "If she wants to A-C-T like a B-A-B-Y, then maybe Tomás should be the O-L-D-E-R brother." Talita and Tomás blinked and looked at each other. Neither of them knew what their Daddy had said, but it didn't sound good for Talita. "Is that such a good idea?" Mommy asked, still having a private conversation amidst her two children. "No one else in Town has two kids, Belle. I think we have to set our own rules. And maybe Tali will finally drop this superiority complex." "I dun do that!" Talita tried to interject, but she didn't really know what a superiority complex was, let alone how to repeat it. "Talita, Mommy and Daddy are talking, you hush for a moment." Her Daddy chided her, firmly but with that same gentle tone he always had. "No!" Talita squealed back, in the bratty, whiny, huffy tone that she seemed to favor. "Tali," her Mommy warned, with an air of seriousness and gravity, "if you keep this behavior up, your first night with your new older brother is going to be during a Bad Girl day." Older? Older?! Talita climbed up from the sofa and almost fell straight to the floor, catching herself at the last minute. "I'm not littler than him! If anything, I'm the big sister! I'm not a baby! Juss cuz I'm sick doesn't mean you get to make me do whatever you wanna! You've got no right!" "Okay." Talita's Mommy nodded her head. "Maybe you'll trust us to make your choices tomorrow." Talita froze in place. A day without her Mommy and Daddy? She knew that feeling all too well. Bad Girl Days were a dime a dozen when she first got to Town, before she learned how much she needed them, but she hadn't had one in months. Now... "I... I didn't mean..." "If you need anything, I'm sure your big brother will help you," her Mommy said coldly. She got up without another word and went up the stairs. "Daddy...?" Talita looked at her Daddy with watery eyes. This wasn't happening… "You’ve had every chance in the world to be good, Talita. Being a Bad Girl seems to be what you wanted, and so that’s what you’re going to get." Talita looked at her Daddy, and looked at her brother... her big brother, they’d said. That didn’t sound right at all! She was so much more mature, and girls grew up more faster than boys, and she’d been here longer and THIS WASN’T FAIR! In a fit of final resistance, Talita stomped her foot and sealed her fate.

ABAlex as well?! What is going on today?! (I love some of your short stories!!!)

Oh my gosh!! Personalias is reading my story!!! I'm so insanely flattered, you have no idea!!! Your theory is so cool and interesting! I love all the logical leaps you're making, and I am glad you found the protective attitudes of the caregivers to be authentic. I don't want to give spoilers or anything so I can't say a lot. But I think its fair to speculate there's something special about Candies! Like Ai says in A:B... "why us?" Thanks so much for everything you've written and the inspiration you've given ABDL writers like me. I hope you continue to enjoy this story!! ~Mia~

Chapter Eleven Talita’s parents pushed her down the sidewalk in her stroller, following the two sharply dressed strangers. Talita sat nervously and did her best not to think about all the trouble she'd gotten herself into. She didn't mean it! She was a good girl. She obeyed her Mommy and Daddy, she wore her diapers, she surrendered her potty training, she was a good girl and this wasn't fair! The man in the suit knocked on the front door and Mrs. Hopper opened it. She was already dressed, though the sky was still a pale blue, losing darkness to the coming day. It was too early for her to be awake, unless she had been awake before. "Mrs. Hopper?" the man asked, though he knew the answer. "Is it time?" she asked. "Not quite," the man said with a sigh. "Can we come in? I have something I need to discuss with you." "Of course." Mrs. Hopper stepped aside and let the man and woman inside. She looked quizzically at Talita's parents, then at the Candy in the stroller. If there was any word to describe everyone at that moment, it would be: confused. Once Talita was let out of the stroller and led inside by her parents, Mrs. Hopper closed the door behind them. "There's been an... oversight." The man began, keeping his voice low as he split off with Mrs. Hopper to discuss her Candy in private. As for Tomás, given the early hour of the morning, he was probably still in his crib and fast asleep with a full diaper. Tali's Daddy lifted her up under the arms and led her to the boy’s playpen, depositing her down inside to keep her out of trouble. Honestly, Talita had no idea what to expect. The two sharply dressed strangers spoke to Talita's parents and Mrs. Hopper a few rooms away. Talita could just barely see them, but she couldn't make out any of the words. She shook the bars of the playpen and tried to climb over them, but she wasn't strong enough to pull herself up. She remembered how good she was at climbing trees when she was younger, but nothing prepared her to escape from an adult playpen. The floor around the playpen was raised up, so it was easier for an adult to set her inside, but from her vantage point the bars were just too high. So she did the only thing she could think to do to solve a problem: she cried. But no one came. Actually, after a few minutes, Talita’s Daddy walked past the playpen and up the stairs. Tali couldn't figure out why her Daddy wasn't coming for her: she was crying, she was doing the right thing! Daddy was always supposed to save her when she was like that. But when Daddy came back down the stairs with a sleepy Tomás in his arms, he just set the boy down and walked away. "Is something wrong?" Tomás asked Talita, rubbing his eyes and leaning against the wall of the playpen. Talita looked at him with an ounce of annoyance and tears in her eyes, trying to remember him. They had to have met before this place, before last weekend. But he was nowhere in her memory. "It's gonna be okay," Tomás said, putting an arm around Talita. It warmed her with a sense of unexplainable nostalgia. "Don’t you remember me...?" Talita asked the boy, her eyes as sad as a gloomy day. His eyes were happy and bright, because Tomás was sure he had the right answer. "Uhhuh! I do! Last weekend, ‘member? You played with my puzzle rings and stuff? I remember you, silly!” Talita slouched down in the playpen and rubbed her tears into Tomás's sleeve. Why did it even matter? Obviously this was a trick her sickness was playing on her. So why did it hurt so much? By the time the parents were done talking, Talita's crying had turned to sniffles and she'd grown so accustomed to the smell of Tomás's messy diaper that she couldn't be sure it wasn't her own. Her Daddy kissed her Mommy on the forehead before leaving through the front door on his own. Her Mommy paced nervously in the hallway. "This won't hurt her?" she asked the man in the suit. "It won't even leave a mark," the man reassured her. The woman at his side was holding a blue-capped marker against the side of her phone, making selections by touching the screen. Then the cap of the marker changed from blue to purple, like one of those color-changing coffee mugs. She passed the marker to her colleague. "Could you hold her?" the man asked, but Talita's mom shook her head. "She's a bit too heavy for me..." "I can do it," Mrs. Hopper chimed in, trying to be as encouraging as she could. The situation was already awkward enough. "Are you sure?" Talita’s Mommy asked. "Of course, don’t worry about it. Your little one’s a featherweight, I’ll take good care of her." Tali was trying to focus on something. On anything. Something that wasn’t what she was doing - sitting in a playpen, with a boy who she knew from her past, dreading the future of the next few minutes. It wasn’t working. Mrs. Hopper approached the playpen with a warm smile. "Talita, darling, can I borrow you for just a moment? The nice man here is just going to check that you’re healthy, okay?" She spoke in airy, condescending, fairytale tones. Talita shook her head, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks, and shuffled away from the edge of the playpen. But Mrs. Hopper picked her up all the same and cradled Tali on her hip. For all the comfort it afforded her to be held, Talita's heart was racing. She wanted her Mommy and Daddy. She wanted to go home. Talita started to squirm. "Hold her tighter," the man in the suit said, pulling the cap off the marker. The tip wasn't colored or felt; it looked like a small orb of metal atop a spiral of wires. Fresh tears filled Talita's eyes and she started to kick and scream. "Nooo! Lemme down! Pu' me down!” "Tali, darling," Talita's Mommy tried soothing her daughter and Mrs. Hopper held her tighter. Unfortunately, the tighter Mrs. Hopper’s grip became, the more Talita’s anxiety spiked. She thrashed harder in the woman's arms. "Hold. Her. Still." The man impatiently repeated. When it seemed like neither woman was going to be able to calm the hysterical girl, he made his move just the same. Talita was sharp and methodical. She kicked the man's hand - the one holding the marker - as hard as she could. Her leather buckled shoe connected with his knuckles and he involuntarily let go of the marker, tossing it more or less in Talita's direction. It collided with the sleeve of Tali’s school dress and bounced onto Mrs. Hopper. The tip of the marker touched the caregiver’s bare arm before it clattered to the floor, but it didn’t leave a mark on Mrs. Hopper’s skin. Talita's cries and kicks finally won out and she fell roughly to the floor onto her padded butt. She looked up at the woman who had been holding her, standing still in the middle of the room, and then at all the other adults. "Eli," the woman in the suit muttered, a wavering fear in her voice. "She's not a Candy. She can't be—" "Who do you think you are?!" Talita's Mommy shouted at the woman who had dropped her daughter. She pulled Talita off the floor and into her arms, squeezing Talita against her chest like any mother would do. "Stay away from my daughter!" "Take Mrs. Campbell into the kitchen," the man in the suit told his associate, picking the marker up carefully off the floor and putting the purple cap back on it. "But Eli, this changes everything…" "Send Miss Porter a message while you're at it. Explain what happened." The woman in the suit reluctantly ushered Talita and her Mommy into the kitchen, but Talita's eyes were fixated on the woman who had dropped her. She was standing vacantly in the middle of the room with a faraway look in her eye. Talita was worried about her, though she had never met the woman before in her life. "Mommy..." "Quiet, Talita, shh now." Her Mommy spoke with tender care in her voice. "I didn’t... umm... why am I..." "Tali, sweetie, you just need to be quiet for Mommy, okay?" Her Mommy pressed in her pockets, one after the other, until she found the spare binkie she always kept on hand. In a deserted house like this, it was always good to be prepared. "We'll get all this straightened out shortly," the woman in the suit said, tapping away on her phone. She didn't sound very convincing, even to Talita. Talita sucked nervously on her pacifier and watched the man in the suit question the mystery woman, still in view. She reached down to pick up Tomás in the playpen, but Tomás started to cry. Tali's frustration flared up in defense of Tomás and she wiggled uncomfortably in her Mommy's lap. A few minutes later, the man alone joined his partner in the kitchen. "Her name is Angela Hopper," the man said quietly to his associate. "Start a file for her." "Oh yeah," the woman snapped sarcastically. "Let me just start a file for her." "Excuse me," Mrs. Campbell irritatedly interrupted. "Who is that woman?" "A new employee," the man said. "She's none of your concern." "I think anyone that holds my daughter is my concern," Mrs. Campbell shot back. "She won't come near Talita again, I promise." The man's confidence was speckled with exhaustion. He clearly didn't want to be dealing with a protective parent right now. Talita sucked her pacifier quietly and cuddled into her Mommy's shirt. "We should hurry," the woman in the suit said, tapping her watch. The man checked his own and nodded his head. "Take Talita home," he said, "and we'll be by shortly for the eval." "I don't know why I had to come here in the first place," Mrs. Campbell said under her breath, but she didn't hesitate to set her daughter on her feet and head to the door. Talita caught sight of Tomás in the playpen on her way out. His parents left Town, didn't they? The thought of being without her Mommy and Daddy made Talita's heart ache. She clung tighter to her Mommy's hand and followed her out of the house.

Chapter Ten "Tali? Honey, are you awake?" Tali opened her eyes and peeked outside of her crib bars, though she knew the voice well. Her Mommy. She looked up blearily and tried to sit up, her wet diaper squishing between her thighs. "Mm..." "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you changed." Talita was half asleep on the changing table. She didn't usually sleep in; often it was Talita's crying that got her Mommy's attention. Today felt different, though; the sunlight wasn't streaming through the blinds and the sky outside was a dark blue. It was early. Very early. "Mommy it’s so earlyyyyy..." Talita mumbled around the binkie between her lips, clumsily rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. Her Mommy didn’t give her an immediate response; she just smiled as she went about changing her little girl. It was both very routine and very alarming at the same time. And Talita, as a Candy, was too far below the threshold of problem solving to notice just how worried her Mommy looked. Talita was dressed in her school clothes like any other day - a pretty dress with bows in her hair - but she was too sleepy to really notice. As a matter of fact, Tali's eyes barely opened at all until she was brought downstairs and saw a stranger at the kitchen table. Tali stared at the man in the dark suit, then up at her Mommy. Her Daddy was on the other end of the kitchen, brewing coffee. Instinctually, Talita tried to hide behind her Mommy but Talita was lifted off the ground and deposited in her high chair. The tray snapped in place and Talita shrunk down as small as she could. The man was watching her… "Talita, darling, we're going to have a guest here for breakfast." Her Mommy had a very firm tone to her words, an earnest importance that was certainly never wheeled out for anything but the most serious of conversations. "He'd like to talk to you, and you must do your very best to tell him the truth, okay my little sweetheart?" The man, for his part, remained quiet, and kept his eyes on Tali the way that Tali might have kept her eyes on a piece of candy that she really, really wanted. “Mommy... I'm scared.” "No need to be scared," the man said warmly. "I just have a few questions I'd like to ask. Answer them honestly and you have nothing to worry about." Talita nodded, but she wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. The man had a familiar tone, one she had heard many times before. The tone of a good liar. "I'd like to talk about some comments you made at school yesterday, Talita." Before the man could finish his thought, Tali piped up in her own defense. "Shae started it! She made fun of me 'cause I fell over yesterday, and said soon I'll only be able to crawl." "Perhaps she’s right," the man countered, his voice cold in a way that wasn't exactly threatening. "Perhaps soon you might only be able to crawl. You're sick, after all." Talita sunk further into her high chair and looked away. The idea that she could lose even something as simple as that... well, it was as bad as when she lost her potty training. Above everything though, she didn't want Shae to be right. "How did you respond to Shae?" the man asked. "Cair did," Talita said, trying to deflect. "Claire Anders," Tali’s Mommy explained to the stranger. "Mmhmm. And what did she do?" Talita looked at both her parents. Her Daddy sipped a cup of coffee and her Mommy ushered her on with a nod of her head. Talita didn't like to tattle. "Cair said... she said Shae's parents would think bad of her. Her other parents. If they even remembered her…" "If they even remembered her?" the man asked, sternly. "Now, is that exactly what she said? I want you to think very carefully, Talita, this is very very important." "Tali," Her Mommy added, "please think very hard, okay? And try and get this one right, sweetie. It's important to tell the truth.” "I dun remember," Talita shrugged, looking at her hands in front of her. She picked at her fingernails and tucked her feet under the high chair. The man noticed her anxiety and leaned forward, so that he could reach out and touch Tali if he wanted to. "Where did Claire get such an idea?" he asked gently. "Why did she think Shae's parents wouldn't remember her?" "I... I dunno..." Talita tried to sound sure of herself, but tears were filling her eyes. She hated lying, but she didn't want to get in trouble either. Unfortunately for her, Claire had been questioned before Tali. "Are you sure that you don't know, Talita? Are you as sure as sure can be?” Lying to someone who knew you were lying was... one of the worst feelings in the world. Or rather, when they revealed they had evidence of your lie. The anxiety, the guilt, the dropping into the pit formed in the stomach. Talita felt all of this the moment the man spoke next: "Claire told me the truth, Talita.” "I didn't... I mean, I wasn't..." Tears dripped down Talita's cheeks and she shook her head in a panic. Her fight or flight response kicked in, but Candies didn't have the confidence to fight anymore. She wiggled and kicked at the high chair, but she couldn't squirm out of it. "Talita!" Daddy said sharply. Talita froze in place, looking up at him with wet eyes. "Answer the man's questions or you'll be in trouble. Do you understand me?" Talita nodded reluctantly and wiped her tears with the backs of her hands. "I...I asked Cair um... um..." Talita sniffled as she tried to make the words make the most sense. "I was asking about her Mom and Dad and stuff because um… because I met this boy, um, and and…" "Boy?" The man's voice changed. Curious. Talita nodded her head and tried to keep the tears off her cheeks. "Tomás... Mrs. Hopper's Candy. He, um... we, um..." "I knew it was a bad idea to let her go over there," Talita's Mommy whispered under her breath. "We were um.... we were talking about his Mom and Dad and my Mom and Dad from before we were sick and um... um...." How much did she say? How much had Claire already said? Saying too little now would make her a liar and saying too much could get Claire in trouble! And she didn't want either of those things! "Um..." Talita’s tears were running even more freely from the stress. "Me and um... um and me and him... maybe we think maybe we hadda same Mom and Dad and we forgots…" "Forgot your Mom and Dad?" the man asked. But Tali shook her head. The man in the suit nodded in understanding. They forgot each other. "Let's pay a visit to Mrs. Hopper's shall we?" he asked rhetorically, standing up from the table. "I got school," Talita tried. "It's cancelled today," the man said flatly, pulling on his coat. Talita's Mommy came over and helped slip her shoes on her feet. Then she let Talita out of the high chair. "I dun wanna go," Talita muttered into her Mommy's shirt, clinging tight to her. "Please, I dun wanna… please I told you the truth and and! I wanna go to school and—" "Talita!" That was her Daddy. "Enough!" Meekly, she stopped talking and fell in line. This was the worst day of her life. Outside the Campbells' front door, a woman in a long coat was waiting. The man muttered something to her, but Talita only caught part of it as she was fitted into her stroller. "...records on Tomás Hopper?" "Number 775," the woman said just as quietly. "His parents in Town left a few weeks back. Mrs. Hopper adopted him." "Compare him with 221." The woman typed something into her phone - the kind Talita used to have before she got sick, with a big screen that you could touch. Town didn't have phones like that. Then she turned the screen toward the man. "Well I'll be damned..." the man said under his breath. Then the two led the Campbells down the sidewalk and around the bend toward Mrs. Hopper's house.

Chapter Nine "Did you want to go on the swings?" Talita's Mommy asked her pouting little girl. Tali hadn't said more than two words since the spanking, but the promise of more fun at the park was quick to draw her out of her introspection. "Yeah..." Talita sighed and climbed up to her feet, wobbling a little from the thickness of her diaper. She was so used to them by now, but it always took her a moment to find her center of gravity when standing up. Maybe in the future, her illness would get so bad that she wouldn't be able to walk at all. "Let's go then." Talita's Mommy grabbed her by the hand and her Daddy lifted Claire onto his hip. They went over to the swing sets together; not the ones Claire had been trying to swing on earlier, but the row of infantile chairs that looked like big plastic car seats. If Tali wasn't so wrapped up in her own thoughts, maybe she would have objected. Or maybe this was normal now. There was something about swings that adults seemed to forget about when they grew up; a kind of magic that only kids and Candies seemed to be able to remember. It was like flying: a sense of helplessness with dangling feet and forward momentum. A defiance of gravity and an embracing of the unknown. Like every swing forward could just launch you into space! Talita loved that feeling. Claire loved it, too. Honestly, most of the Candies here seemed to. That was why the swing sets were some of the most popular equipment in the park, although there must have been some unspoken agreement between the Mommies and Daddies because neither Tali nor Claire could remember a time they’d had to wait to swing. These little plastic swings, though... they were for the littlest Candies. But even so, there was something there. A sense of adventure. Or acceptance. "I want Daddy to push me..." Talita mumbled. "Darling, Mommy is going to push you. Daddy is going to push Claire; she’s a bit older than you." When had that happened? Talita thought. Mommy set Talita in the chair and pulled the harness down over her shoulders like it was a roller coaster. She buckled the latch and walked around behind her charge. Tali and Claire looked sideways at each other with an ounce of nervousness, their feet dangling lazily beneath them. Then with a sharp shove, both of them were jolted forward. They swung back down and a second shove sent them lurching toward the sky. A third, and they went higher. Their rhythm was quickly out of sync - Daddy always pushed a little harder than Mommy did. Adrenaline forced a laugh out of Talita's lungs. She held tight onto the chair as the clouds grew closer, then further away again. She watched the horizon, where the looming wall lilted ever so slightly, as if she could see an inch more over the top than she could before. It felt so refreshing and exciting and new, though she had done it a dozen times before. Wind rushed through Talita's hair and she kicked her feet wildly, trying to get higher and higher. The swing began to crest the semicircle, so that she was looking straight up at the sky. The chair would hover, just for a second, before the ropes caught it and guided it back to the ground. Heat pooled between Tali's legs and soaked the seat of her diaper. How could something so terrifying be so freeing? Maybe that should have been the motto of Academy Town. Freedom found through fear, through surrender. Talita often thought about how lucky she was that a place like this existed for girls and boys like her that were so ill. Once upon a time, she’d have wondered about things like who was behind this place? Who was paying? What happened to Candies who went away? If she could have still counted above the fingers on her hands, she might have been able to count how many Candies were there, how many families. The illness had taken that ability away though. Thank goodness for the Town. By the time the swings came to a stop, Talita was truly exhausted. Afternoon naps weren't entirely uncommon, but she knew her parents would take her home to have one. So when her Mommy helped her out of the swing, and asked "Feeling sleepy?", Talita shook her head and forced a smile. "You know where we are when you get hungry," Talita's Daddy said, ruffling his little girl's hair. Then the two parents walked hand in hand back to the picnic blanket. "Sleepy," Claire muttered. "No, we just gotta get, um. Jumpy! Tag, you're it!" Talita tapped her best friend on the shoulder and waddled toward the playground. Talita was a much better runner and a lot more coordinated than Claire, but she was caught off guard by the sight of a boy nursing nearby. His head rested in the crook of a lady's arm and his lips were latched around her breast. Claire tapped her back. "Tag, you're it!" "Huh?" Talita turned away from the boy on the blanket. Tomás. Then she remembered. "We gotta talk! Race you to the fort?” "Okay but I get a head start!" Why did Claire get a headstart? Because she’d won in tag, so obviously that meant she got a head start if they were going to race. And she knew that Talita was faster than she was, and better at running, and walking even for that matter, so it seemed only fair to Claire. Despite her head start, Claire still got to the fort second! She huffed and puffed and giggled and pouted as she collapsed onto the ground on her squishy diapered tush and leaned up against the noughts and crosses board. "You won!" "I always win," Talita said proudly. Part of the reason her relationship with Claire worked so well was because Claire didn't mind losing. Talita spun one of the cross tiles so it went blank and sat down next to her friend. The fort was predictably empty. It had a good view of the playground from the top of the slide, and sometimes Candies would climb up there and play Kings and Queens. But the underside was murky and boring, and the only place to sit was the rubbery ground. It was a perfect spot for secrets. "Do you know that Tomás boy? Um. Mrs. Hopper's Candy?" Though that transition was new, within the past few weeks. If Talita knew Tomás old last name, she definitely didn't anymore. "Um.... I think so? I think I saw him earlier. He’s pretty! For a boy. Too pretty." Claire narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and then grinned and giggled as she spun one of the noughts and crosses tiles over to a nought, because she was always noughts and Tali was always crosses. Talita rolled her eyes. "Well I was over his house yesterday, 'cuz you were sick." Sick was a kind word for what Claire had been through, and Talita opted to stay as far away from that topic as possible. "And I... I'm not sure why, but we..." "Hm?" Claire waited curiously, but Talita couldn't explain it. How could she convey what had happened? "It's like we have the same parents, and we grew up in the same place. But I never met him before..." Talita looked down at her shoes and played with the velcro. "He said stuff nobody else knows about my mom and dad…" "Well... um... he’s Mrs. Hopper's Candy, so I don’t think he and you have the same parents, and..." But mom and dad meant something different to Mommy and Daddy, and Claire picked up on that as well. "Oh you mean... before? Before you got sick?" Her voice got quiet. "Yeah..." Talita sunk further down on the wall and crossed her arms. "I tried to figure it out, but I got scared and started to cry. Tomás wanted to tell Mrs. Hopper but I said not to..." That was such a Talita thing to do. Don't tell the grown ups! They are the bad guys in all this. But they had done nothing but help since Tali got to Town. It just took her longer than most to figure it out. Not saying anything to Mrs. Hopper was a reflex. "I dunno. Maybe it's nothing?" Talita was hoping it was nothing, because the alternatives were too complicated to comprehend. "Well maybe umm..." Claire furrowed her brow in concentration, although it wasn’t clear if she was thinking about the problem, about noughts and crosses, or about the fact she was presently filling her diaper. "Maybe just like we forget how to um... count? And words, sometimes, and use’a potty... maybe you forgot? Maybe um... before you were sick, you knew each other?” "I guess so..." Talita bit the inside of her cheek in thought. She had been forgetting a lot of stuff since her illness started. But she never forgot people or places, not like this. And then for the one person she did forget to wind up in Town with her? "Maybe we forget other sick people too?" Talita asked, tilting her head. That was the best thing she could come up with. "Iono..." Claire mulled that one over, "that seems awfully pacif… paci… binkie… um..." Clearly, Claire was struggling to find the specific word she was looking for. But that kind of struggle, the day-to-day fight with words and concepts and memories, that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary here. "If I forgot about Tomás..." Talita was still following the thread of logic through the massacre of her mind, stepping over shattered glass and broken floorboards. Before she lost her footing, she found the end of the string. "Do you think other people forgot about us? Like our other parents?" But they weren't sick, were they? Why would they forget? None of this made any sense to Talita. "If we forgot cause we're sick then other people won't forget us unless being sick makes people forget you but umm..." This look of concentration on Claire’s face was definitely diaper related. "Umm... I don't know about how memories work and stuff. Maybe when we get sick, people’s memories of us get sick too. Like not just us are sick... but the words and thoughts of us are sick." Claire was making no sense, and she knew it; she was just babbling and trying to be supportive. "Maybe that's how it works..." At one point in her life, Talita knew that wasn't how memory or illness worked, but these days she wasn't so sure. But if it were true... "So our parents... our old parents... they aren't ever gonna visit us, are they? If they forgot?" Talita and Claire shared a forlorn look. Some of the Candies didn't like their old parents, but Talita and Claire were not amongst them. All in all, they missed their old lives very much. "If they forgot... maybe it's better," Claire said, "'cause I don't want them to be sad." That right there was an entirely un-Candy-teristic perspective on things: it was a mature, adult, and selfless point of view. Therefore, it sounded as foreign as could be when it came from Claire's lips. Tali sat for a moment in thought before nodding her head in agreement. "Maybe you're right..." That should have been the end of the whole thing. For a few days, it was. But Claire didn't have the level of self-preservation that Talita did. Claire didn't grow up in southern California in low-income housing. Claire didn't have to play her cards close to her chest; her parents could always buy her way out of any problem she got herself into. So when Shae started running her mouth in the cafeteria, Claire had ammunition ready. "You'll be crawling around soon," Shae teased, sitting across from the two girls at the lunch table. Seats weren't assigned - Shae had waddled over just to start a fight. If she riled Tali up, she knew she could get her in trouble. That was half the reason Shae picked on Talita to begin with. "Shuttup, Shae," Tali muttered under her breath. She didn't want to think about morning class, and how she fell flat on her butt walking up to the front of the room. It was the fault of her new diapers; they were too thick! She wasn't losing her ability to walk. But even Talita couldn't be sure of that anymore. "Oh, you want me to shut up?" Shae smirked, utterly proud of herself. "Does the fact I can still talk make you jealous? Little baby babblers~" "Hey Shae, how do you think your old parents would feel knowing that you poop your diapers three times a day and can't even count that high?" Claire retorted, her words dripping with snark and venom. "Oh wait..." she added, dramatically, "they don't even remember you, so it doesn't matter! You're the least rememorablest person ever. Who are you again?” Shae's face flushed pink and she balled her hands on the table. Of all the Candies in Town, Shae's relationship with her old parents was probably the most complicated. Some might say she was better off here, even without her illness. Others would say she lived the best life of anyone. "They do so remember me," Shae said sharply. "Nuh uh," Claire taunted. "When you get sick, everybody forgets you. Tali says so. Right?" Shae turned to Talita with a mixture of irritation and confusion, or maybe curiosity. She knew Talita could lie, but gullibility was a part of all children - and in turn, all Candies. Talita saw an opening, so she took it. "Yep," Talita said plainly. "They don' remember you. Nobody does." Talita didn't regret what she said right away; she simply didn't understand the ramifications. But then she saw tears in Shae's eyes. Shae got up from the table and stormed out of the cafeteria. "Too much?" Talita asked her best friend. "She had it comin'," Claire encouraged. Rumors thrived in schools, and Candies were some of the worst; they whispered secrets and lacked discretion in doing so. Did you hear that Talita made Shae cry? was paired with Claire's pretty mean and When you get sick, nobody remembers you. By the end of the day, the entire school - Candies and grownups alike - had heard the rumors. Talita’s action would have consequences.