LostBBoyBear

Hey everyone! A bit of a longer chapter, hence a later than usual post time, but I wanted to get this up before too much later, still trying to stick to a schedule with these and finish likely on 31 March. Also, with the things going on here, I absolutely didn’t want to shortchange any scene by simply rushing through everything. I definitely could have even doubled my original draft for this, but I think this still came out alright. Next, just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 22: Forced or not… I Don’t Think I’ll Be the Same I sighed, leaning back on the couch as the cartoon owl, Mr. Hoot, continued to fly through the screen, explaining the water cycle. It was a simplistic program for sure, but Mr. Hoot’s House of Learning was a small way I was keeping myself both sane and mentally sharp. Designed for ARs specifically, it did cater to both the tastes of those in or out of Infasia, but it presented three programs throughout the day covering everything from basic arithmetic up to calculus or geography or even art history. Sometimes, it got a little boring for my mind to follow, but it always made sure to pick back up not long after and be fun and engaging enough to keep me occupied for a solid chunk of time. Plus, with it catering to several ages, it was non-violent, so my parents allowed me to watch it even when Amanda was around. “Pete,” my dad called from the other room, “can you turn that off and come and help us get ready today?” I sighed a little and turned back to him. “I can… but honestly… I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be.” I then held up my little hands, according to my mom, clocking in around 25 or 26 months old… just above the higher end of my bounce age. “Not entirely useful these days… in case you forgot.” My dad sighed. “Fair enough, but I think you can still help worth a few things. Come on over and do a check to see if we packed everything.” “Roger that!” I could have argued more to continue watching Mr. Hoot and all his little forest friends explain next about the forest biome, but I didn’t want to push it… at least not right then when something like ice cream was involved. Geeting over there, I definitely had to make sure to watch where I was stepping. Walking wasn’t an issue, but my coordination wasn’t ideal, and I still wasn’t used to my smaller steps. The diaper also didn’t help, but having worn it for over two months now, I was at least getting used to it… for better or worse. Looking inside, I noticed the various assortments of sandwiches, vegetables, and fruit, all kept cool by the three ice packs that had also been added. “Is all this for us?” I asked, not believing the sheer amount of food I was seeing now. My parents both chuckled. “It’s really not a lot, Pete,” my dad insisted as my mom continued to pack a few other bags… like my diaper bag on the countertop. “You’re just…” “No… don’t say it,” I insisted. “I walked right into it, but… just… don’t.” “Okay, okay. I won’t but is everything good for the picnic?” He then bent down low and gave a quick check himself, his being a little less thorough than mine was. “Yep! Everything’s good,” I confirmed. “One picnic lunch for the five us all ready to go. Now, we’re just waiting for Lucas to get over here. Where is he anyways?” “I think he said he needed to help Kevin move the rest of his stuff into their new place” my mom interjected. “He told me on Wednesday that it was taking a lot longer than I think either of them realized.” “Could have ditched the beer pong table…” I muttered. “What was that?” my dad asked, raising one of his eyebrows skeptically. “Oh… nothing. Just… thinking out loud about…” I looked down and tried to think of anything else. Lucas was 23, almost 24, so it wasn’t a matter of legality, but I knew our dad didn’t approve of college parties either. So, spotting one item missing, I realized I had my out. “Drinks! We need drinks.” “Uh-huh…” My dad was clearly skeptical, but considering the hot August day, drinks were too much of a missing item to go unanswered. So, he simply went over to the refrigerator and pulled out several options. Fortunately, he reached for a juice box for me instead of a sippy cup, like I was now using pretty frequently. It wasn’t that I absolutely needed it, but it was more of a matter of convenience. If I had a bout of Infasia holding it, I wouldn’t get it over my clothes, like had happened a few weeks ago, and honestly, I just didn’t have to think too hard about drinking. Instead, I could just enjoy whatever beverage I had in front of me, but a nice juice box of apple juice worked just fine for me today. “So, what’s this movie about again?” my mom asked after checking her watch for at least the third time, now clearly trying to distract herself over the fact that Lucas still wasn’t here. “Something about tomb raiders… it’s an action movie Lucas recommended to me,” I explained. Both my parents were hesitant about some of the stuff I watched lately, probably fearing me slipping into Infasia and continuing to watch something bloody and violent, but it was the one point they were willing to concede on with my new life. Also, due to just everything going on lately, it had been a while since any of us had gone out to see a movie… at least not one that had tons of sparkles, kid’s jokes, or pink in it. Amanda was a wonderful kid, especially now that she had turned her previous ill-placed jealousy of me into a pretty firm stance of protection and affection. Dr. Smothers had done her work well, but regardless, her tastes often dictated our schedule. So, Lucas and I teamed up and convinced her to insist on going to a friend’s house today instead. We would all still enjoy a picnic lunch on a quiet Saturday afternoon together, but the movie was strictly for older eyes only. Gratefully, due to her playdate with her good friend from preschool, she didn’t seem to mind. “I heard it got some pretty great reviews,” I continued, trying to butter my mom up to be more enthusiastic about the selection. She was more of a romcom lover, but she also enjoyed the company of her family as well and wanted us all to feel included and happy. So, for today, that meant seeing more of a guy flick. “I heard that even that one actor… oh what’s his name? Harry? Bill? I’m not sure exactly, but super famous and he’s even rumored to join the new Spi…” The telephone rang and stopped us all cold. My parents still insisted on the louder ringtone. It nearly gave everyone a heart attack, but no one ever missed a phone call from simply not hearing it. Being nearer to it, my mom picked it up. “Hello. Crichton residence. This is Karen. May…?” She then stopped before she could finish her usual dialogue. “Yes… yes…” Her tone grew serious and the previous smile over her face quickly vanished. Without warning, not long after, she dropped the phone. It was just to the countertop, so it didn’t shatter or anything, but it was alarming, nonetheless. “Karen!” My dad hurried over to her right as I saw Amanda walking into the room. Before he got over to her though, she just pointed at the phone with wide and traumatized eyes. Picking it up slowly, my dad then pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” I could then hear a few murmured words exchanged over the line to him as I walked over to my mom, now being pestered by my younger sister. “Mommy! Mommy!” Amanda asked, clearly seeing that something was wrong with her. “What’s happening?” “Shhh!” My dad gave Amanda and I both the warning look to not speak up. Violating his unspoken directive would mean a one-way ticket to a loss of privileges… like TV time, so we both remained silent. Keeping my eye on my dad though, I made my way over to my mom and hugged her leg. Amanda soon joined me and then I saw it… the pain in my mom’s eyes. And I guess right then, everything clicked in my head. Both my parents growing silent over a phone call… my mom’s horrible silence and initial reaction… my dad now rushing over to furiously scribble something out, almost like his life depended on it. I didn’t want to think it’s horrible thoughts, but my mind maybe going to more pessimistic places these days, could only think of a single question that might be horribly answered in the next few minutes: where is Lucas? “Thank you… yes… at least one of us will be right there… yes… thank you and… you too…” Slowly, my dad lowered the phone and clicked the disconnect button before looking at to the three members of his family, dreading but still waiting on an answer. “It’s… it’s… It’s your brother. Lucas has been in a car accident.” It felt like the air had just been sucked out of the room. Everything sickeningly snapped together in my mind like some twisted puzzle finally revealing itself. “He…” I was at a loss for words, and both my parents seemed to be as well. Only Amanda seemed capable of saying anything. “No!” she wailed. She was still a kid, but she was becoming aware of what was going on around her more and more every day. “He…” I was still struggling to comprehend it all, but finally, I managed to spit something out. “Is he… is he alive?” Both my parents looked at me with horror, but I think the realization of both their kids here being left in the dark must have hit them. We weren’t stupid and their reactions were serious. Trying to fill in the blanks, most other conclusions just seemed wrong to at least not ask that most important question. Gratefully, my dad shook his head. “No… he’s just been in an accident. I think his car got totaled, but… I need to go to him. The nurse I was speaking to didn’t know all the details… just that one of us should be there. We’ve gotta… I…” He then shook his head. “We’ll do the picnic another day. Promise.” Amanda and I nodded sullenly. “I want to go too…” I pressed. I wasn’t sure what it was all going to entail, but I wanted to be there for the one person that had been there all this time for me. Amanda and our parents had both made their amends and truce with me now, each relationship just growing stronger now, but Lucas had consistency since the beginning… or at least about as close to the beginning as one could get. That had to count for something. “Me too!” Amanda insisted as well. Hearing her though, I knew it was going to be a ‘no’ for both of us. As much as I wasn’t a kid, there were just certain times that I got lumped into with her. Going to places with complications seemed to be one of them. “No… you two need to stay here.” Amanda whined a little, but our mom dropped to the floor and gathered us in before looking at us with one of the most serious looks I had ever seen from her. “I wish you two could come with us. Lucas would love to see you. It’s just… the hospital is going to be a big and scary place… lots of unknowns. It’s going to be chaotic, stressful, and… long.” Right away, I knew it meant two different things for Amanda and I. For her, it meant possible boredom and keeping an eye on her so that she wouldn’t accidentally unplug someone’s oxygen or something of the sort. For me, it catered more to the side of what that would entail for my care… like a diaper change being needed in a public place, and it also meant that with all the stress… a bout of Infasia could be a very real possibility. And at that point, I would have been even worse than Amanda in that environment. Still, I had to try for a hope of another solution. “So then… can we just stay here by ourselves?” For the first time since the phone rang, my dad’s face grew serious, and I could almost sense the rejection in the air. “Absolutely not! For both of you, that’s just a bad idea waiting to happen. I’ll be darned if I leave you two alone and then wind up with two or even all three of you in the hospital by the end of the day.” “Agreed,” my mom chimed in, “but maybe I have another idea…” Minutes later, the plan began to unfold… much to my dismay. “Mom… please… not a babysitter.” My mom sighed for what must have been at least the tenth time in the past few minutes. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we really don’t have much choice here.” She kept unpacking the bag that was to be used for our picnic, now postponed for who knows how long. “You heard me on the phone. I tried ARSED, but they insist they’re too swamped today for such a last-minute request and so can’t provide a designated ARV sitter.” It didn’t take her practiced fingers long to separate out the five meals packed within, now three of them going in the refrigerator for some time later. “I would have considered Linfield, but Amanda needs to be cared for as well, and we have no idea how long we’re going to be at the hospital. Plus, I would think you all would feel much more comfortable staying at home… just in case we find out any news and call back here.” Her logic was sound… if not disappointing. “Ugh! Fine…” I knew a losing battle these days when I saw one. With all the factors considered, a babysitter for Amanda and I would have to do. Setting Amanda’s and I’s lunch to the side to plate for our lunch hurriedly, my mom paused for a brief moment and looked at me with a long and sullen face, likely partially from the news of Lucas but also just as likely to be partly in sympathy for my situation now. “I did make sure to hire Linda, Pete. She’s still considered the best in the neighborhood. Every mom raves about her, saying she’s great and a real pro. Also, when we got her last month right before you came back to us, Amanda thought she was great.” Her mind then seemed to drift off. “That was a really great night… definitely a good last glass of wine…” She shook her head as if to try and force those thoughts out manually. “It was a good night out between your dad and I, and coming back, I don’t remember any issues with her.” It was a good review, but there was one problem. “Okay, fine… she’s a real asset to the neighborhood. But what about experience with ARs?” From my mom’s more painful expression, I could tell that it was the one sticking point in using her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I tried to find a sitter with specific experience with ARs, but it’s just not a common listing on babysitter ads still.” Two months ago, I might have been offended and stormed out of the room, thinking this was some plot to trick me or have her go on some sort of ‘mommy trip,’ but that was then. Now, I knew that between her need to go see Lucas herself and the last-minute nature of everything, plus our mended bond, Linda was likely the best she could do. “Please, Pete…” she implored. “At least try her for me. Today’s been really difficult and…” I could tell the news about Lucas and all the unknown things about his accident were still heavy on her mind. At this point, trying to be a good mom to all three of us was stretching her thin, and I could feel the part of my brain protesting all this quiet down a little bit. “I’m really sorry… I hope you believe that, and I promise… as soon as I can, I’ll reach out to Agent Carlyle and figure out what to do in the future if an emergency situation like this ever happens again.” I prayed it didn’t, at least something like a car accident, but I knew with my dad’s work being as time-consuming as it was, there were a whole host of reasons that could pull both away and Amanda and I would now need a sitter. It was humbling, but I also knew my mom needed a break somewhere today. Amanda was off in her own little world, being heavily distracted by another episode of Princess Mondy, dad was readying the car and ensuring everything was going to run smoothly when they arrived at the hospital, and my mom really was doing her best. So, despite my hesitation about all this, I nodded. “I will, mom. I’ll try my best.” Acknowledging my words at least, she then pulled me into a little hug before going back to fixing Amanda’s and I’s lunch. The sandwich was delightful and even Amanda’s smacking, and our parents constantly reminding her to chut her mouth while she was eating, it felt like a nice peaceful moment. Lucas’ status was still looming heavily on my mind, but it was a lull… especially contrasted with the feeling I had once I heard the front doorbell ring. “Coming!” my dad shouted, hustling to the front door as my mom made a few preparations for some items for the hospital… just in case they had to stay longer than anticipated. Remembering back to when I broke my leg in high school, my parents stayed for hours into the early hours of the morning… just making sure I was okay. I heard a few muffled voices from the front, but soon, a bubbly and dark blonde early 20s woman walked in, her ponytail and bag over her shoulder giving her an on-the-go type of look. Her college shirt was a nice touch as well, a poignant reminder of our visible physical age difference now. “Hello again, Mrs. Crichton,” she greeted my mom warmly. My mom returned the favor, and Linda went right to work with Amanda and I, leaning over and giving Amanda a wave. “Hey there, little princess. Miss me?” A cucumber slice still munching around in her mouth, she slid off her seat and went over to give her a big hug. “Miss Linda!” It was a nice sign that our mom hadn’t been embellishing her satisfaction of the sitter, but my insides still lurched a bit when she broke off from the hug and turned her attention toward me. “Oh, and you must be Petey,” she said, adopting more of serious tone towards me. As much as that sounded harsh or unfriendly, it was readily apparent it was more of a sign of respect, especially in the near similarity to her voice when talking to my parents previously. “Pete… please…” I still felt my raw nerves bubbling around, trying to figure her out, but I knew I had to keep a good impression of her. My parents were stressed enough, and I didn’t want to add to their burden. While emergencies were one thing, barring them, I knew I needed to make this work. “It’s good to meet you.” Still sitting on my booster seat to eat, I had to stay put, but I made sure to offer my hand to shake. Smiling and not seeing any fear over a nearly two-year-old talking so well was a good sign. Her shaking my hand back was another. “it’s very good to meet you, Pete.” I could see my mom smiling from behind her, and once our shake was over, Linda turned back to her. “Okay, anything changed I need to know about? Numbers? Emergencies? New allergies?” Utilizing my dad to get me out of the seat, I retreated over to the living room while my mom shared all the crucial points of information with Linda. Amanda seemed content to stick by her side through the process, but I just wanted to hide myself in a good book instead. There at least, I could imagine myself as any one of the heroes and be far away from all this. Still, I think Amanda got a little bored, especially when I heard them talk about the most minute of details. And, with a warning not to turn the TV back on from our dad, Amanda wandered over to me. Sighing, I put my book down seeing her step into the room with me. “So… Linda… is she as good as you’re making her look like?” Amanda gave me a questioning look briefly and I knew I had to make it simpler… something binary… good or bad. “Okay… uh, well… is she a good babysitter? Or a bad one?” “Oh… she’s pwetty good…” Picking up one of her discarded dolls, she stroked the platinum locks back. “Just… watch out fo’ her an’ pay attention…” I wasn’t sure if I liked that last part, sounding more like a warning than praise, but my thoughts were soon interrupted by our parents getting to the front door. Seeing a nearby clock, despite everything packed in, it was still less than 30 minutes since we had received the phone call about Lucas. Dad wanted to go on ahead, but Mom insisted on going together. In the end, she won out. Rushing up on them both, Amanda gave the first round of goodbyes. Following up, I gave the second. Both standing back up, our dad looked at his watch. “Okay… not sure when we’ll be back, but you two might be in bed by then.” “Oh, no worries,” Linda noted casually from the doorway back to the kitchen. “Take as much time as you need with Lucas. I’m sure we’ll do just fine here.” Our mom nodded looking over at our new sitter. “Thank you, Linda.” She then turned back to us, and I could see she didn’t want to leave us but also seemed to be compelled to go as well. “Whenever we get back… well, until then, just listen to Linda. She can be pretty fun if you let her…” I knew that comment was directed at me, but I couldn’t dwell on it. A few more goodbyes later, and our parents were gone… leaving Amanda and I alone with a genuine babysitter. “Okay you two… I’m going to tidy a few things your parents left lying around. How about you two go play together? I find sibling bonding can sometimes be the best thing for a few sad hearts.” She then bent low and smiled at both of us. “But if you do get bored or want a little space apart, just let me know and I can easily jump in, okay?” We both nodded but then scampered off. Since I had gotten back from Linfield and after Amanda had protected me at the playground from the other bullies, we had become close once again. Our dynamic had certainly changed, but we were at the point now where despite how much Amanda seemed to truly like Linda, she preferred to be with me. Besides, I was pretty good at voices and her, and her knight dolls and the like seemed to need a helping hand. So, after a few shuffles and arrangements downstairs in the family room, Amanda insisted on being the princess again and being kidnapped by the evil Bun Eie. Her creativity was impressive, but I had a fleeting but odd thought… Poofin would make a much better monster for her game. He would be able to tower over her princess doll and he was always reliable and… I shook my head and focused on the task before me. Poofin was good upstairs… all alone. I didn’t need him… he was good. I was good… and there was nothing more to it then that. But like most good things, even as the evil Bun Eie carried off the princess, all that came crashing down with yet another ring at the doorbell. With Amanda stopping, I knew there were few forces on Earth that could pry her away from the final scenes of her princess being rescued. In this case, it was her friends. So, minutes later and being apprised of the situation, Amanda’s friend’s mom clarified the timing of her stay, promised to return her before dinner, and took off. Only waving goodbye, once out the door, Amanda seemed to pay me little attention. I couldn’t blame her… but it also left me alone with Linda. Now, I had been thinking of the whole situation for a little bit by then. In the suddenness of everything, I had completely blanked on a few of the other options open to me. Having talked yesterday, one of the most obvious was going over to Jeremy’s house. Counting the times I had gone over while we were still in Building 3 and the few times recently, his caregiver, Yasmine, seemed to love having me over. “Uh… Linda?” I approached my babysitter with a little caution, still unsure about her regarding my whole situation. Linda stopped reading and looked up from her book, Wuthering Heights. “Oh… Pete. You kind of just snuck on me there. You’re so quiet.” She smirked and then placed her book on her lap. “So, what can I do for you? Need a playmate or…?” “No.” She seemed nice, but I still had my limits. “You’ve been great, but I’ve been thinking… maybe I could go see my own friends? Jeremy doesn’t live too far away and…” “Okay…” she interrupted, upsetting me slightly, “I’m going to stop you right there.” She then sat forward on the couch and set her book beside her before looking me deeply in the eyes. “I was put in charge of you and your sister, Pete. Now, she got permission from your parents directly, and I’m glad you have a few friends you can visit today, but we didn’t get permission from them beforehand.” I wanted to go get the phone, but it seemed Linda had thought of that too. “And I don’t want to disturb them at the hospital unless it’s an emergency. They need to focus on Lucas right now… so, I’m sorry, but a playdate with Lucas isn’t an emergency, right?” Her logic was sound, just like my mom’s had been earlier when trying to justify Linda’s presence in their absence. Now, it hurt a little more, being denied going to see my friends today, but I really couldn’t argue with her without seeing combative or uncooperative. “No…” “Good. Now, is there anyth…” A small little beeper noise then went off and Linda smiled before hitting her watch. “Oh! Looks like all that doesn’t matter right now anyway. It’s naptime!” “It’s… what?” I wasn’t a stranger to naptime, doing it almost every day now at Linfield, but at home was another matter. I think I usually tired myself out less at home, so it didn’t feel critical. “I never… never…” I tried to hold back to keep my argument alive, but it was no use. Before I could even finish my sentence, I yawned. “Well… sounds like ‘never’ might just be broken today.” She then marched over and held out her hand for me to take. “Now, come on, Pete. I hear someone who needs one… regardless of if they want one or not.” From her words, tone, and insistent glance down at me, I didn’t feel threatened or anything, but I wasn’t really seeing a way I could tell her ‘No’ exactly. So, I took her hand. Guiding me up the stairs, a task getting harder by the week, we eventually got to my room, where Linda then dropped the railing. I sighed but then let her place me inside and sneak a quick peek at my diaper before moving the railing back up. “I think you should be good for a quick nap today, so just try to lie down for me and close your eyes.” I really didn’t want to, but I could already feel the wave of exhaustion soon catch up with me. It was a pretty strange phenomenon, but I had learned not to fight it. I could still be upset by it, but fighting always proved to be a failure. With Linda dimming the lights, I could feel myself drifting off soon after. It was peaceful, yes, but waking up brought a new horror to my senses. Everything felt cold… clammy… and wet. I thought I was still dreaming, recalling one summer when I hitched a ride on a sailboat for about a week with one of my friends from college. It was pleasant… but this… this was something else. And more importantly, as I shuffled around, I knew without a shred of doubt that this something was a huge problem. Opening my eyes and poking around, my fear doubled. Tossing my sheets off, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. My fear had happened before, but that was due to a cheap diaper my mom had to borrow early on when I first came back home when my wetting started becoming more uncontrollable. So, opening my eyes, I knew what I was going to see, but a still felt the tiny prick of ice stabbing my heart in disappointment and shame. During the night, I had not only wet myself in my sleep, but I had leaked as well. It honestly wasn’t bad, or at least not as bad as it could have been, being just a small wet patch over crease above my thigh, but it was still a mark against me… especially with a sitter that I barely knew. Also, I think seeing my loss so prominently displayed like that kind of put my head into a bit of a spin. Waking up after a good sleep had been a trigger for my Infasia in some form for over a month now. I was used to it, but I had noticed that it both happening more frequently, and maybe as a trigger of that, was becoming more sensitive as well. So, waking up from my nap, I was already feeling a little weighted down and not quite connected in my head as much as I would like to be. Seeing the leak, it just pushed me further. “Oh! I thought I heard someone stirring!” Linda warmly greeted me coming back into my nursery. “Lin’a,” I tried to say. It was a word and clearly her name, but it was partially slurred and didn’t come out full intact. Being trained to respond to Infasia, ARSED sitters knew that sometimes ARs would be a little more regressed waking up and just needed time to acclimate back into their more mature brains. Linda, unfortunately, did not seem to notice this. “Oh? Do you have… oh… what’s it called?” She tapped her chin playfully for a second. “Infantile? Infancy? In… In… oh!” She shrugged her shoulders and looked at me with a playful grin. “Oh well! Doesn’t matter much I guess though, huh? Your mommy told me how you sometimes regress a bit after naptime. So, I guess it’s just my lucky day then.” Coming over closer, her eyes soon directed down to my leak. “Oh no. Someone’s a leaky little boy, huh?” Maybe it was the wrong call, but I think from the little touch of Infasia I had, still worrying about Lucas, and being more than a little mortified… I just nodded my head. “Well then… let’s get you all sorted.” By now, I knew a diaper change was just necessary. I had a dwindling amount of control with my bladder and even navigating the potty for my messes was becoming a challenge. I still made it, but the time I had in getting on the potty and disrobed enough to not make a mess of myself was shrinking. So, naturally, along with being in a daycare and cared for by others, I didn’t mind Linda changing my diaper as much… even when she spouted a series of babbles, coos, and even straight babytalk. “Oh, who’s just the cutest little thing in the world, huh?” She tickled me on my exposed belly, now strapped into the table. If this was my mommy… mom… ‘Stupid Infasia brain…’ she would have checked before treating me like a real two-year-old. Instead, a was played with relentlessly, and being only human, I could only resist laughing heartily for so long. Encouraged now, Linda kept up her barrage, and soon enough, I even felt a further warm spurt in my diaper. “And there we go!” I then realized she had tricked me into emptying my bladder completely. She was a good babysitter and knew the tricks… I just wish she wasn’t using them on me. Still, I kept about as silent as I could, not wanting to prolong the change for any longer than it had to be. And I guess that’s why I next found myself out in the backyard in my new outfit adorned with colorful dinosaurs. Between the shirt and the shorts, which left little to the imagination of what I was wearing underneath and even possibly flashing a peak at it through the leg holes, I felt all the more the baby Linda was treating me as. Taking advantage of Amanda’s old swing set, I was soon plopped into the seat and pushed back and forth. “Whee!” I was pushed high into the air, a little part of me freely fearing slipping out and shooting out, but gravity combined with the babyish swing seat kept me in to the point where I could insist on this stopping. “Lin’a… I…” “Whee!” Honestly, I think Linda was having a little fun herself, and maybe getting too caught up in the moment, probably just didn’t hear me. By the seventh time, I was a little more doubtful, but by the eighth, I had given up as well and just decided to ride it out and have fun. Once we were done though, my anger bubbling, I gave the best angry face I could to Linda. “Lin’a!” I stomped on the ground. “Oh? Is someone a grumpy gut today?” she asked, still going for her babyish tone. “Maybe you’re just not a swing person, huh?” I wanted to scream ‘no,’ but I couldn’t deny that I did have a little fun. The problem was though, Linda quickly took that as a sign of consent and took me over to the slide before setting me on top. “Lin’a… I…” “Oh, don’t be scared, sweetie. I’ll help push you off but then I’ll be waiting right at the bottom for you.” She positioned me carefully on the thick yellow slide, both sides coming up more than enough to abate my fears of falling out as I slid down. “Don’t worry, Petey. You got this…” Her words were oddly comforting. I was still upset, but there was a part of me that I couldn’t deny did feel a little better. “And… whee!” Pushing me ever so slightly, the slide was slick enough that I soon began to slide right down. Racing to the bottom, Linda was nothing but smiles down there. It was a nice sight to hurdle towards, and as soon as I made it to the bottom, she grabbed me up and held me high. “Yay! You did it, Petey! I’m so proud of you!” Again, it all felt good, but I had to almost reorient my mind back to her. She wasn’t listening to me and I needed to be listened to… at least before things got worse. It sent a shiver up my spine, but I refocused and began to squirm in her arms. “No, Lin’a! No!” “Oh… oh!” Linda wasn’t strong by any means, but her experience with younger kids was shining through as she expertly wobbled me around so as to miss accidentally hitting her. I didn’t want to, but I also needed to make my point clear. So, I swung out at her to make her know that I didn’t like what she was doing. If my words weren’t working, I felt my actions would. The problem with that theory though is that squirming or even yelling is one level, taking a swipe at someone is completely another. “No, Petey! We do not hit!” At that point, I was just entirely frustrated, and maybe I should have tried for more words, but I think I just felt that each of them would have failed as much as my previous ones had. So, I swiped at her again. “No, Petey. We…” Her voice then trailed off, and I could almost see the lightbulb go off in her head… right before she held me up out in front of her like I was some sort of dirty bomb. Then, setting me in my booster seat, she utilized the strap attached that I had never used before. “There,” she said with no small amount of clear satisfaction. “Now you’re handled on one level, let me…” She trailed off again before finding my diaper bag that my mom had packed earlier. “I know she said… aha!” To my horror, she then plucked out a small white object that had some sort of blue design in the center on one side and something more yellowish white on the other. Second later, I knew what it was for sure as she popped it into my mouth. I wanted to spit the pacifier out, but as had happened before, like with the whole bit with Agent Brooks, the thing didn’t seem to want to move. Worse, after trying to spit it out, my cheeks picked up a small pattern and sucked it. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough for me to feel a wave of calm drape right over me. Smiling, Linda nodded with a sigh. “Whew! Thank goodness I remembered that being mentioned as one of the ‘just in case’ items from your mom. Still…” Her face trialed back outside. “Maybe you were just fussy that I stopped your fun? Maybe your nap might have been just a smidge too long and you need to burn off some energy.” Holding up a finger and looking confused for a moment, she then snapped and went over to the main countertop. “Let’s see… let’s see… ah! Yes! Just as I thought.” She then pulled herself away from whatever she was looking at, now sporting one of the widest smiles I think I had ever seen. “Let’s get you some more sun and take a stroll around the block to go to the park, huh?” I tried to muffle a protest, but Linda only seemed to take it as enthusiasm. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes then.” Utilizing the diaper bag that my mom had packed earlier, I could only watch and struggle in vain as I was then moved to the stroller my parents had bought. I had popped in it a few times, but I always insisted on walking. Today, I wasn’t given the choice, especially when the straps were pulled over me and then buckled into place. “There. All nice and snug as a bug in a rug. Let’s get going, shall we? Daylight’s burning!” Pushing out from our house, Linda locked the door, checked to ensure she had everything on her and checked her watch before lifting up the stroller and hauling me off the front porch and to the sidewalk. Her strength was impressive, but only a sad reminder of how little I was in control of anything right then. So, resigned, I stopped struggling and just laid back, hoping all this would end sooner rather than later. The two of us then strolled around the block and up another before getting to the entrance of the park. It wasn’t the biggest in the city by far, but it serviced several communities and even contained a few soccer fields, one baseball diamond, a small pond, and a little shack with a few restrooms inside and a snack vendor around the back. By far though, the busiest part of the park today was the playground. Even bigger than the one just for my parents’ neighborhood, this one didn’t differentiate between ARs and normal kids and babies. As such, once we got there, all the parents and caregivers were mixed in as well. “Oh, my goodness, Linda!” one gushed. “Who’s this little fella?” “Oh, hey there, Miss Summers. This here is Petey,” she explained, completely talking over me. “He’s the Crichton’s son… bit of a problem in the family today, so I’m just babysitting.” “Oh no,” another woman grieved. “I hope everyone is alright. Please give them my love and sympathies.” Linda nodded and the whole conversation went like that for a little while. I was trying not to draw too much attention to myself and being a little fearful of repeating the first incident from the park where my mind slipped into full-blown Infasia, I stayed put… but that really can last only so long when your mind isn’t effectively turned off. “Oh, Petey!” Linda pulled my stroller closer to her spot on the park bench and tried moving it back and forth to calm me down. It didn’t work and she sighed. “Well, I guess being outside, you’re going to need to get all those wiggles out, huh?” Playing along, I nodded quickly. Most of the women just chuckled while Linda finally let me go. I was half-tempted to run away right then or even make my way over to Amanda’s friend’s house, knowing right where it was from whenever our mom picked her up on the way back home, coming directly from Linfield. Looking at even the great distance between the playground and just the entrance that was my parents’ neighborhood… I had to concede defeat on that level. To further my problems though, I was still fearful of another bullying incident occurring. I didn’t have any of my friends here, Amanda was on her own playdate, and while Linda was great, she seemed too distracted by the others to instantly rescue me right then. So, I instead set my ego aside and just played with the regressed ARs and real toddlers and babies. I had done it before but today felt different. Depressingly, none of them put up a fuss and even welcomed me into their midst with open arms. It was another blow to my ego. Still, I at least had a little fun chasing them around, but like clockwork and right on schedule, my stomach began to growl. At first, I wanted to ignore it, but call it fragile or regressed emotions, but not ten minutes later, I felt like I was in agony and that a hole from the stomach acid burning its way through was now forming in my stomach. Wincing and seeing no other choice, I trudged over to Linda from her side and pulled on shorts. Turning to me, I tried not to seem so pathetic. “Hun’wy…” I really hated my pacifier right then, but Linda seemed to know right away what I wanted. Instead of just pulling out a snack bar or some homemade trail mix like I was expecting though, she plucked me up, deposited me back into the stroller and waved goodbye to everyone. For once with her, it seemed to me a miracle that we were going home. I could feel the elation bubble up inside of me… until we made a left instead of a right near the exit. Wiggling forward, I tried to see where we were going… at least until I saw a wide picnic bench right under the shade of some overhanging trees. Considering the heat of the day, it was a perfect spot, but I was confused why we had to come here for snack time. At least until I saw her pluck out the diaper bag and then a large bottle of what I could only assume was milk. I wanted to protest hard, especially when I was removed from the stroller once more. I wanted to protest even harder when she sat down on the bench… and then cradled me in her lap. “Alright… here we go, sweetie…” Popping the pacifier from my mouth, I felt finally free enough to protest loudly. “Linda… I…” But Linda was quick…to quick for me, and snapped the bottle right into my mouth, it’s creamy contents soon gurgling right down my throat. I wanted to protest and spit, but two things happen that I already knew about… but was really just hoping they were flukes. First, like the pacifier, once the bottle was in, I couldn’t spit it back out no matter how hard or what I tried. Second, and more worrisome, was that as soon as the milk hit my tongue, not only did I not want to stop, but I also began to feel a peculiar cloudy sensation start to blanket my brain. Considering my day, I think I might have been forgiven in accusing Linda of drugging me to keep caring for a ‘baby,’ but I knew I had to dismiss that thought. See, back when I was staying overnight in Building 4 at Linfield, I was exposed to several aspects of what could be in store for my future. To not be cruel, it wasn’t the full experience of toddlers and babies out there, but bottle feeding definitely made the list. So, back today, I remembered the time when Miss Bea fed me with a bottle from the comfort of her lap. Like now, I had become cloudy and couldn’t spit the bottle out until I was done. Today, however, felt much stronger and more powerful. In a little way, I felt that if I pulled any harder, my face might go against the resistance… so I had to resign myself to just finishing the bottle. I felt bloated, half-dazed and more than a little embarrassed, but as soon as the nipple as out, I began to speak up once more, wasting no time to try and get myself out of this whole mess. “Linda… I ca…” But once again, Linda was too quick, and popped the pacifier back in. “There!” she remarked triumphantly. “Let’s just keep that in, shall we? I think with everything going on today, a little peace and quiet might just do you some good, Petey. Your brother in the hospital must be tough, so, let’s just walk around a little more and try to enjoy the day as much as we can, okay?” I was having a hard time pinning Linda down. On one hand, I wanted her arrested for assault or something… anything, for her treating me like a baby when I wasn’t one. I didn’t know the law, but it just felt wrong… and that would be that. But… I also wanted her to cuddle me tight and play silly games with me. She just had this… enduring quality that was hard to find in people. A lot of people in my life had that spark, but I knew from hearing other’s stories, it was more of an exception rather than a rule. So, only nodding, Linda placed me back in the stroller and took off again. That’s how I ended up in a stroller, frustrated but admittedly peaceful as well on the most beautiful of days in a little while. No rain… just sun and the birds chirping or an occasional tune as a card drove by with its windows down. It was a nice little moment of no worry and less concern about others… at least until Linda stopped pushing the stroller and came around to the front. Pulling my shorts to one side, she stuck her finger into the leg band of my diaper. I whimpered in protest, but diaper checks just came with the territory. “Oh my… Petey… you’re positively soaked. I don’t think you’ll be able to last all the way home without leaking all over. Once is more than enough in a single day, so let’s see…” I could see her eyes scan across the horizon. “Oh! Right there!” I wondered what she was referring to, but less than a minute later, I recognized the building’s brick façade almost instantly. It was the public restroom of the park. I started whimpering right away. This time, there wasn’t a mix-up in communication, but the problem with that is that I think it just went to confirm Linda’s suspicions over me being tin the midst of a bout of Infasia. So, being the good babysitter she was, she picked me up and cradled me to her chest, stroking my back tenderly as she rocked back and forth. “Shhh, shhh… it’s okay, Petey. I know that wet diapy is probably no fun. Just one second while we wait… Easy… easy… shhh…” Fortunately, though to my shame a little bit, it did actually make me feel better. I was still in a wet diaper and about to be changed while in a public restroom, but my internal swell of distress had been dampened at least a little bit. Unfortunately, being in that position, the other moms in the women’s restroom, flocked to me and either gave me sympathetic looks or exchanged little chats with Linda. Being a respected and known member of the community, everyone probably thought she was just consoling another toddler… not an AR who had been a full-grown man only a year ago now. “Okay… it’s all yours…” the woman at the single changing table announced, turning back to us as she cradled her daughter in her arms. I couldn’t tell if she was an AR or not, but the deposited diaper into the nearby trash bin was bad enough. Seeing my muted distress, the woman gave me a sympathetic smile but said nothing and went on her way after washing both her and her daughter’s hands. “Okay, Petey… now the not so fun part…” Being experienced, as I had seen before, Linda laid everything out she was going to need and quickly stripped me of my shorts. Shooting my hands to my face, I think Linda saw and slowly pulled them back. “It’s okay, Petey. Just a little change. Tell you what though… I think someone needs a friend.” I quickly thought of Poofin, and I could feel a swell of relief in my chest. Unfortunately, it turned out to only be a simple cat stuffed animal, one I recognized as at least one that used to belong to Amanda. Now, it was given to me, and as much as I wanted to toss it, I brought it close up to my face and buried myself in it, drying desperately to distract myself from what was going on below. I couldn’t see anything, and maybe that was a good thing, but the scritches of tapes and the blast of cold air on my privates left nothing to the imagination of what was happening. Hands on my ankles and alarmingly cold wipes were then maneuvered all over my lower half before the offending garment was removed. A new one was slid underneath followed by a thorough dusting and then quick retaping of the diaper. The change was over, but I could feel the heat of the blush still present all over my face. “There, there,” Linda cooed to me, gently pulling my hands away from my face once more. “All done. But see? That wasn’t so bad?” I couldn’t really agree or disagree with her, so I still just kept silent, even when the little stuffy cat was put back into the diaper bag. One toss of the horrid diaper and handwash later, and we were both back outside and heading home. On the way, I reflected on everything that had just happened, but I was having a problem doing just that. At first, it felt more like someone was tapping me on the shoulder and pausing my train of thought. When we turned the block though, I was pausing and looking at the wonder of everything around me with utter fascination… taking at least a minute in between the pauses to get back to what I was thinking. With the view of my parents’ house coming back into view, I then realized what was happening. I didn’t think the park was that bad, or that I was at the point of random bouts yet, but I guess I was wrong. So, for at least the second time today, my mind was slipping back into Infasia. Knowing the causes and ticks of it though, as soon as I was back inside, I tried just about everything to put it off or even circumnavigate it. I wasn’t extremely successful, but it proved to be just enough that I was in the midst of cuddling with Poofin when Amanda returned home. I think her day, minus the news of Lucas, had been a highlight of her week at the very least, and she couldn’t stop talking about it to either me or Linda. Seeing the time though, Linda soon retreated into the kitchen to start our dinner. Amanda continued her story, but right at the end, between braiding hair and pretending like they had a mock salon, she stopped and stared at me intently for a moment. “Uh… Petey? Why do you have a paci?” Her question was straightforward and non-judgmental. In fact, if anything, I definitely heard a smidge of concern. I tried to say something, even going so far as trying to remove my pacifier once more, but it just wouldn’t budge. So, with pleading eyes and a few hand gestures, I stared back at Amanda to get my message across. Gratefully, she seemed to get the gist of the first thing that I wanted. “Miss Linda? Can we go up to my woom to play?” The clanging of pans stopped, and Linda soon reappeared back in the room before shaking her head. “I’m sorry Amanda, but not this time. I need to keep at least an ear out for you two and with Petey… I need to be nearby in case he needs something. If you need something from upstairs though, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” Amanda paused for a moment, temporarily looked at me, and then returned to Linda. “No… no thank you… Jus’… wonderwin…” Linda nodded and returned to the kitchen where the song of cracking and some scrapes could soon be heard. To my relief, Amanda also understood the second part of my signs to her, and reaching across, she plucked out my pacifier with ease. “Oh! Dank you!” I grimaced at my failing words. I knew it wasn’t going to be long now. “Petey… what’s wong?” she asked, her own concern clearly growing. “Why’d you have the paci? You get in twouble with Miss Linda?” I shook my head. “No… I jus’… she tought I had Infa… Infashia…” I groaned but the word was close enough. But despite my growing speech impediment, I told Amanda everything. “Oh, Petey…” It was quite the turn of events to see my sister so concerned for me. Between Dr. Smothers guidance and our at least three times a week meeting to discuss problems regarding my ARV though, it was no wonder that she was starting to pick up what I liked versus what I hated as an AR. A public change and others gushing over me were right at the top of my discomfort level. “Pwease… don’ tell mommy or daddy…” I was definitely slipping now. “Dey don’ nee’ dis wowwy… jus’ between us, okay?” Amanda didn’t seem to like the notion of keeping something from them, and I was a little worried she would tell them inadvertently, but I knew I had to trust at least someone besides them with this information. Besides, I didn’t want to yell or threaten her. If they found out… I wasn’t even sure what would happen. I just knew I had to explain something. “… and lastly, I might slip under…” “With Infasia?” Her wording was slow and forced, but her pronunciation was much better than mine right then. So, I nodded, with Amanda responding by simply nodding… at least a first. “Well… I’lll pwotect you… I’ll keep you safe an’ comfowtable…” She then paused and then scooted closer to me down onto the floor. “Petey… I pwomise… I’ll be the best olduh’ sistuh evuh!” I wasn’t the biggest fan of being called the ‘youngest’ by extension or not, but I could quickly feel the warmth start to dance over my brain. I should have been more scared but maybe sensing something was more wrong than I was admitting, she promptly hugged me just about as tightly as she could. And that was how Linda found us. “Awww… let me take a quick phot for your parents!” Too focused on my own comfort, I clung onto Amanda and only heard the click. Seconds later, I heard something else. “Okay, you two… it‘s dinner time!” There was a brief pause. “Oh… and Petey? I’ve got the highchair all set up for you.” Maybe it was that statement alone or maybe another, I wasn’t sure, but what I was sure about right then, is that my mind finally gave up and slunk into the depths of another round of full-blown Infasia.

Glad to hear you are enjoying the story! I was going to hold off on this until it came up in the story, but the question has been asked a number of times, and I guess I need to elaborate on the notion of getting stuck at one's regressed age. I won't go into all that's invovled, but it kind of depends on the age you drop to. Keep in mind, that it's only been about 15 months since Orange Day. So, keeping that in mind, I'm writing all this where ARV sticks you at your age depending on mostly what age you bounce at. For example, Karen and Gregg (Pete's parents) may have gotten stuck for a few months, but at their age, it's almost negligible. For those younger though, sticking would last longer. So, carrying this further, most that got whacked and regressed tremendously at the outset are still stuck... not forever, but still stuck. I'll go into all this pretty soon, but I know you all can't see my headcannon unless I write it down. Also, just something to keep in mind... the government and most scientists probably don't want to cause a panic. Similar to what happened with Pete and not being told his 'under three' diagnosis, most authorities would likely fear what most would do if they were regressing and then found out they would be stuck as a toddler for at least a year. Even if it didn't mean riots in the streets, you would probably have a lot more ARs having mental breaks (which would only increase their time stuck and freak them out more, thus creating a vicious cycle) or not caring about life anymore and going to some extremes. Speaking personally, I think I would react very differently to the notion of being regressed and then growing back up normally versus being stuck at whatever age I bounced at. So, I hope that helps everyone here for the moment at least... More is coming soon, and as I said before, everything should be coming to a close in the next week or so.

Hey everyone! Took a little time to look at the rest of the chapters here and I can now officially confirm that this story will in fact conclude at 26 chapters. I was pretty sure it was going to be before, but I hadn’t fleshed a few of the later chapters out until yesterday. I also wasn’t exactly sure how I wanted to wrap up a few plot points, but I’m about 90% sure that I figured out the best way to conclude them with how I wanted to showcase this story. I think a few of you might think that it’s a little on the safe side, but I think it really highlights why I called this story what I did, so I’m pretty happy with it in the end. Next, just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 21: A Daycare by Any Other Name So, little known fact about Infasia… yes, it would help preserve your mind, and yes, it wasn’t exactly a result of ARV, but it took away from you in very much the same way. ARV was the basis and as you regressed, your abilities began to match your body… except for a few select skills that relied on more than just a physical shape. For example, in art, my hand wasn’t exactly the steadiest anymore, so my creations began to turn into more Impressionistic pieces than those of realism. And honestly, after losing everything else, maybe it was the fact I was able to keep some semblance of my old life, but I was okay with that change. The problem with Infasia though, is that it combines with the normal regression process and slowly strips your physical abilities simply because you aren’t using them while under its sway. The initial bout of Infasia can cause a whole stream of new problems and disabilities one never experienced before, and while that itself isn’t necessarily a problem, it’s like the first domino getting knocked over. And once they begin to fall, like trying to stem the water once the floodgates are opened, it was very hard to truly stop the process… so, inevitably things just started to get worse. So, while I was worried that being home was going to rob me of all my preciously obtained abilities over the years simply because of the potential infantile treatment by the neighborhood, Amanda, or even our mom, I was losing things simply from my own progression and protection mechanism. Infasia was a good thing in protecting my mind, but it was coming at the cost of most everything else. And, what’s more, now that I was undergoing it, I began to notice the same problem in anyone with ARV around me. But by the end of the month, things had just started to become routine. Simple things really, but each day was starting to blend into the next while I went back to Linfield. I saw my friends, I was picked up and dropped off nearly at the same time from Linfield, and home life was surprisingly becoming more stable as well. Weekends were another matter, but as I woke up in my room for yet another day back at Linfield, I was almost starting to get a sense of excitement from it all. I couldn’t control a lot, but what I could, I knew I had to embrace. With that type of mindset, it didn’t take long for me to look forward to even the smallest of things… like seeing my friends once more. “Oh! Looks like someone’s up, huh?” my mom asked, strolling into my room not long after I had woken up. “Better get a move on today. There’s no telling how traffic is going to be this morning, and I know you hate being late to see your friends.” With my eyes only around halfway open, I nodded listlessly as she came over and dropped the side of my crib and plucked me out. My diaper getting pressed into me, I knew I was wet… as usual, so it wasn’t any surprise that my mom soon deposited me on the changing table. “Hmmm… let’s see… are you Pete or my little Petey this morning, huh?” I dreaded what was coming next, but I knew it was a fair question, and I knew she had to check. See, with increasing regularity, my Infasia was cropping up more times throughout the day. Stress still did it, but it seems now that whenever my mind didn’t need to actively play itself out, it would slip into another bout. Keeping active kept it at bay, but sleep was another big culprit to trigger it off. Fortunately, this morning I was still me. Unfortunately, that meant I endured my mom’s humiliating but quite effective test. “And is my little Petey here to play?” she asked in her most babyish and cooing voice ever. I internally groaned, but I knew she needed her proof to see how to handle things in the morning with me now. So, I could only watch as her finger descended onto my torso and began to tickle me in all my most ticklish spots. Now, yes, it tickled as it always did… even Molly knew that, but my reaction to it was everything for my mom. So, yes, I giggled a little bit but quickly put my hands to block her and stared directly at her. “Stop… please…” It was hard to get the words out some mornings, even when I was fully myself, but my mom and I had established a pretty good routine by now. It took a few tries, but our communication on this matter at least was pretty solid. Doing it multiple times also, I bore her no ill will, knowing now that it was important for her to check. Knowing why myself now, I knew that being ‘Pete’ meant I knew who I was. I was aware of my surroundings and could differentiate between string and electrical wires. I knew not to drink shampoo or to definitely close my eyes in the tub to not get water in them. There were countless things I knew from years of habits and learning… but ‘little Petey’ not so much. For example, snapping out of Infasia in the middle of a change last week, my mom had strapped me to the changing table. Apparently, ‘little Petey’ was quite the roller. It was just a safety thing, so as soon as I let my mom know I was ‘back,’ she released me. Nowadays, I knew for a fact that it wasn’t personal… it was just keeping me safe. So, for this morning, because I was truly me, my mom only proceeded to strip me of my pajamas and diaper and wrap me up in a towel without comment. Using my diaper and the need for a good wash in the tub was important, but she knew how to protect my humility as well when I was still ‘me.’ In Infasia, because I really wasn’t sure all that happened then, I wasn’t confident my humility was protected as much… a fact that plagued my dreams more often than not lately. ‘But seriously… what could I do to stop her even if I wanted to? How would I even know?’ So, I just had to accept life as it was more often than not and then focus on the parts I could still change. Still, being me, she settled into the tub and left me to my own devices. My mom was initially against leaving me alone, but I was able to convince her that I was still capable of self-autonomy and regulation when I was ‘me.’ I had to agree to a baby camera in the bathroom, and I wasn’t a fan of that, but as long as I didn’t look up, I sometimes even forgot it was there… at least until my mom came back in only about a minute after I had washed the last bits of my body. Plucking me out of the tub, I was promptly dried and pulled back into my room for a swift diaper change. This morning’s number was adorned with laughing Disney characters… certainly not the worst ever. Still, routine as ever, my mom then pulled out a tape measure and jotted down a few measurements in a logbook she kept nearby. “About 34, almost 35 inches today. That’s right about in line with where you were when… when, uh…” I sighed, still sprawled out on the changing table. “When I was this age again… yeah… I know.” Again, it was best to just accept these things and move on quickly. My mom grimaced for a second though before helping me up into a seated position. “I know all this is a pain and maybe a little hurtful, Pete, but Dr. Faulkner insisted on us taking your measurements at least every other day and recording them down. We need to get a good idea of just how old you are and to check if you’re accelerating or slowing down. According to this measurement and comparing it to the previous ones though, it looks like you’re slowing down. Isn’t that great, sweetie?” “Yeah… brilliant.” It was good news, and I knew that without a doubt, but I was still regressing. Yes, my age range of between a year and a half to two years old was still in place, but I was really hoping I would land on the upper end of that spectrum. For every day I wasn’t slowing significantly, it also meant a real chance of winding up on the lower end instead. But my mom was getting the hang of facial tics and when to push and when not to these days. It saved a lot of arguing and likely seeing I didn’t want this to be pushed further, she continued to dress me for the day. Opting for some simple items, my shorts and the single pocket square on my T-shirt matched nicely in their dark blue and white patterns. Two socks and two shoes later, I was all set, my hair already being combed out after being dried off and my need to shave having long disappeared. Downstairs at breakfast, Amanda was greedily munching her cereal, and I was popped into my booster seat right next to her. Nearby, the highchair still loomed and every time I sat down here, I was just grateful it had yet to see any use. “Daddy takin’ me to preschool today?” she then asked, after swallowing an enormous bite of cereal, leaving behind a few rivulets of milk on either side of her mouth. My mom nodded. “That’s right, sweetie. Linfield is almost always easier for me and your Daddy’s work is right on the way to your preschool. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take you both in, okay?” Amanda nodded but then asked the question she had started to ask about once a week now. “Is Petey ever gonna come with me?” She didn’t say as to where I was going to come with her, but hearing the question a few times now, no one needed to clarify that anymore. Looking up from his tablet with the morning news, our dad sighed and shook his head. “No, Amanda. We talked about this, remember? Pete’s going to a special school and will be for a long time.” At one point he elaborated on the future, but that always led to more questions. I think for my sake and his, he just left all that pretty vague now. In my new dwindled state, I had quickly learned that sometimes, the unanswered question for my future was better than the one you did know. Like always, Amanda didn’t seem happy about that, wanting to take her ‘younger’ brother along like some of other friends did. Of course, they were actually babies or toddlers and went to her school’s version of a daycare during the day, but I’m not sure how much that actually mattered to her. Still, for me, it was an oddity I couldn’t help but notice. Amanda was five and July would soon be over. And while there was a lot of buzz around it, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about Amanda starting Kindergarten in just about a month now. I knew I had to get used to these things, but it was a hard line to fathom… especially since I hadn’t even bounced yet. For me, there was a real possibility that she would be hitting middle school before I was even at the age of going to kindergarten at this point. True, most ARs didn’t have to go again, but the notion of even the possibility of that scared me something awful. Still, a quick dash of breakfast and the house had soon dispersed. Amanda was with our dad, and they pulled out first. I went with my mom, second, as she had to take longer to ensure that I had everything needed for the car ride and my day at daycare. Sadly, that included her buckling me into my car seat, my fingers no longer the most apt at fidgeting with those buckles anymore, and the inclusion of my day bag. Despite it being what it was, I still was having trouble calling it my diaper bag. Not everything was so easy to get used to… “Have fun at Building 4 today, sweetie. I’ll see you again tonight at 5,” my mom said, waving goodbye as she dropped me off a little later at the front desk with Gladys, the days of her just simply dropping me off from the carpool lane long gone. Also, despite appearances to call it other names, everyone in my family kept calling it ‘Building 4.’ As I waved goodbye and was let into the main area through the door back there as usual now, it was getting harder for mind to register this place as anything other than a daycare. Sure, the new ARs still stayed overnight, and many chose to eat breakfast, lunch, and even sometimes dinner as well, but every other item before me screamed ‘daycare.’ Changing tables, countless toys, and stations for feeding, handwashing, and posters everywhere about the most basic things were among the top contenders. Plus, with Infasia running rampant, those attending didn’t create much of an argument for this place being labeled as much else either. Once inside, I found my friends and settled down to wait for two things. First, there was a cursor diaper check. While most were changed before they got here and arrived clean and dry, those in the midst of Infasia often used their diapers pretty regularly… especially after breakfast. So, as much as I still wasn’t a fan, I lined up with my group and my shorts were lowered to check my diaper along with everyone else. I might have been a little damp, but I was declared well enough to go on with my day. Second though, we were all waiting for everyone to get here so as few as possible would miss the much celebrated ‘circle time.’ Becoming a quickly loved tradition by even the most staunchly ‘adults’ here, introductions were always a good time to relax and unwind before the day began. Most days though, circle time was loved due to the inclusion of both song and story time. Today, singing the hokey pokey, it was also a great way to shake off the morning and any nerves one had about staying here today. For me, while I was hesitant at first, I knew it was the best way to start any day here. “…and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about.” I loved the spinning and most of us ARs got a little dizzy, but it didn’t matter. It meant being silly, and while that could feel weird at first, most of us didn’t care enough these days about someone else judging us here. After all, who would even dare? Miss Bea or Miss Josie actively encouraged the practice and everyone else was diapered, so how much should one really care about their opinion against you? “You put your whole self in… whole self out… whole self in… and shake it all about.” I really loved jumping in and out and then shaking myself like a rag doll. Again, I used to care, but at some point, me and almost everyone else here discovered that life was hard enough. This time… this time was for fun, and it was on you if you didn’t want to partake in that small kindness. “You do the Hokey Pokey, and you turn yourself around… That’s what it’s all about!” We all made sure to pose at the end, but a bunch of uncoordinated ARs couldn’t or didn’t do that very well, so most of us wobbled and laughed at ourselves or others. It was judgment… it was just the hilarity or ridiculousness of it all. Either way, it was a moment to laugh and smile. Seeing the need as usual to calm us down now a little bit… at least to maintain the order of the room, Miss Bea and Miss Josie were quick to calm us down. In another room, the other groups were doing their own routines, but for us, their skills were invaluable. Chaos reigned here for sure, but they knew exactly when to spring it loose… and when to reel it back. Story time was a guaranteed way for us all to calm down once more. No one turned down story time with Miss Bea. “Settle down… settle down…” Miss Josie attempted to calm down the class from off to the side of us, but she was only marginally good at it. Miss Bea though… She clapped once… she clapped twice. That time, more of us joined her. Clap once… clap twice… clap three times. The pattern was simple but effective and by the third pattern, everyone had stopped chatting or giggling and was now looking directly at her. “Very good!” she praised. It was stupid maybe, but I guess in a new world where handling a fork was an accomplishment to most of the group, any praise was nice to here. “Now then… I’ve picked out two of some of my favorite books ever.” Sitting down in her usual small reading chair, she reached down and plucked two up to show the class. Those in Infasia likely didn’t understand the words and probably just liked the pictures on front and Miss Bea’s excited tone, but the rest of us recognized The Very Hungry Caterpillar and Brown Bear, Brown Bear anywhere. Yes, I was still reading my normal books, but there was a simplicity and calming nature to Miss Bea’s voice over the class. So, for either of the two types of ARs before her this morning, everyone smiled contentedly. Next was snack time. I used to loathe the moment… not because I didn’t want the extra calories, but more due to the limited options us ARs were presented with. Consisting mostly of finger foods, if there was any chance at them looking babyish, the opportunity was taken. It was explained to me that it was just to accommodate our sizing needs, but it always felt wrong… at least in the beginning. Now, I eagerly down my mixed nuts, halved apple slices, and raisins. After that was the second diaper check of the day, and this time I needed it. I previously had fought hard against going pee in the potty. It was a laborious effort for sure, but I always felt a pride with it… at least until I was running to the bathroom each time… and usually still failing at it. I was told to keep it up, but after my final diagnosis of likely being under two, I felt there just wasn’t much point to it. I still tried for my ‘poo-poos,’ or at least that’s what Mr. Daniel in the other group always called them, but going ‘pee-pee’ was just too much effort to try. So, inevitably, I was going pretty freely most of the time. As such, I could only sigh as my shorts were dropped again and my very wet diaper was exposed to everyone else. It might have been a humiliating moment, but I estimated that of the maybe 50-60 total ARs in all of Building 4, only 6 at most were deemed dry enough to go without a change. The one change since I gave in though was the public changing table. Originally, I went to the side bathroom, but I think when Miss Bea and the other attendants noticed I wasn’t even asking them anymore, that changed for 90% of my changes now. “Pete…” Miss Bea began as she started to pull down my shorts once I was up on the changing table, “do you even try anymore at all? Do you feel the need to go pee even in the slightest?” I had to think, and ultimately, I nodded. “Yeah… maybe a little, but it’s kind of fleeting lately. I hate failure, Miss Bea,” I confessed as she began undoing the tapes on the front of my diaper. “Trying to go all the time, it felt like I was failing every day I tried. I mean with the potty… I still go… you know….” She nodded as she began to pull the diaper back and then wipe me down front to back. “I just don’t want to fail in that way anymore.” “And using your diaper to pee isn’t a failure in your mind now?” she questioned, rolling the wipe up and placing it into the used diaper. It was hard to fathom a little just how casual both of us were at this now. “No… not anymore. It just… is.” Miss Bea paused for a second, before then tossing out my old diaper while another was poised ready to go… just in case. “Why? Is that a bad thing?” Miss Bea’s previously calculating eyes widened suddenly and she quickly shook her head. “No, no. Not at all, Pete. It’s just… a curiosity is all. No judgment or anything of the sort. Just… wanted to know.” I felt like she was analyzing something with me right then, but her fidgeting me all around and the small cloud of baby powder dusting over me was enough of a distraction that it broke my train of thought. I trusted Miss Bea completely by now, so I felt confident that if it was something I really needed to know about, she would tell me one day. With the changes now complete, once everyone was done, it was naptime. For those on the younger end and those in the midst of Infasia, it was off to the crib room to everyone’s designated crib… some even going up to the second floor I found out later to accommodate everyone here. For me though, I wasn’t young enough to feel that need fully, only feeling a little drowsy, and I wasn’t in the midst of Infasia either. So, I stayed in the main room for ‘quiet time.’ To me, that meant cracking open one of the books that my mom had packed for me in my bag. Today was the continuation of Treasure Island. By 11:30 though, my stomach was starting to growl in earnest. Not needing any emergency change from naptime and not needing to be woken up either today at least, I was one of the first after I finished washing my hands. So, once again, I was placed at my little, tiny plastic table and fed like a king… well, maybe prince. Going off the menu my parents had approved beforehand, with my grateful input, today consisted of cauliflower, blueberries, a few crackers and sandwich quarters of tomato, cheese, and lettuce with some sort of mayonnaise like specialty sauce. Licking my fingers, I saw Miss Josie smile down at me, and knowing her smiles by now, I could only guess that she was about two seconds away from calling me ‘just the cutest little thing ever.’ Needless to say, without her even saying anything, I blushed and quickly hurried off as soon as I was finished. Jeremy, Luna, and Harriet, joining me shortly after, we all gathered for another round of story time. This one though took on a more theatrical quality and each of the formed groups rotated in and out to present a different tale each day. Gratefully, another group was up today. Looking over, with Frank and Julia deep into the throes of their own Infasia right then, the rest of us would have likely had to pick up their slack or choose another play entirely and present it without any rehearsal. But the ordeal was soon over, and I was grateful too. A toddler acting as Rapunzel is only going to get you so far. Plus, today, I felt I had some extra energy I needed to burn off. Fortunately, next was our outside play time. It was the one time in the day when we were completely free, or at least completely free if we weren’t in the midst of a bout of Infasia. Those ARs were sectioned off and were kept under constant supervision. Their laughter indicated otherwise, but each of us knew that most of them would rather do just about anything else than to be entertained like babies for the hour-long recess. In retrospect though, I might not have been so eager if I knew what was ahead of me. Now, Ian was regressing just about as much as the rest of us. His power had significantly weakened, and his empire of might and intimidation had all but collapsed. The minions were now scattered amongst the two buildings and even the ones over here now held no loyalty to him. Butch had been sent to the so-called ‘Naughty Building’ and the rest of his old gang wanted nothing to do with an AR under the age of two. Unfortunately for me, that meant he really just had his revenge left… and I was really the only available target. “Hey! You! Pete!” I could scarcely still recognize his high-pitched voice calling out to me, but the anger and venom in his words was unmistakable. Still, turning around, I saw the pint-sized bully waddle up to me with a deep-set scowl and his hands clenched in fists of rage. “Ian?” He kept stomping up to me. Unfortunately, right then, most of my friends were in various states of Infasia, the periods where they were under its influence getting longer and more pronounced. Everyone else in his way simply parted, likely not wanting to get caught up in the mess between us. “You did this to me!” he accused. “I was a boss! A fighter! I was a practically a god in my own kingdom and even when I lost a little, I was servant to the ruler of everyone here! Then you… you…” I could see his pure hatred for me brimming at the surface. It was irrational and if I was more of a betting person, I would have bet anything that he was likely compensating now and focusing all his anger on me… justified or not. “Yes,” I finished for him. “Yes, I brought you down. I made you pee your pants that one day. I knew your fear and I knew you were dwindling down with the rest of us.” I was confessing to him, and if it was any other week before this, I might have had a problem, but from my perspective right then, Ian had lost all his strength and power. Now, he was just a bundle of frayed nerves and a bruised ego trying desperately to claw its way back to its former glory. Unlike most around here, Ian clearly still hadn’t given in to all the urges and the wave of being young again. “So, you admit that you worked to undermine me and throw me down here?” He was practically spitting now, his anger still rising. “You broke the rules and bullied me into wetting my pants. If it wasn’t for you…” “If it wasn’t for me,” I interrupted, no longer wanting to play the punching bag after he accused me of being the bully, “then hundreds of helpless ARs would still be submitting under yours and Butch’s rule. You call me a bully? I played a little dirty in the end, but you lot were pure bullies, right down to your little pinky toes. You exuded violence and intimidation on those of us who stood up to you lot… or at least influenced others to do it on your behalf. In a way, that’s almost worse. So, yes, I caused you to have an accident that day. I also caused an incident to the point where Butch hit me in full view of the teachers where he was then caught and sent away forever. And do you know what?” “What?” I could see his right eye begin to twitch in the pure resentment he clearly held for me. “I would do it all again. In a heartbeat too,” I confessed. “I have no regrets over my actions. You all were turning this place into a hell of your own making. Do I feel guilty that I traumatized you into wetting your pants that day, at least on some level? Yes… but I wasn’t seeing another way for us to get out from under you all. When you push and push us all… and then start attacking my friends to the point where they breakdown and blow past their bounce age…” It was hard not to look at Harriet and sigh, a little part of me wondering of the life she could have had if it wasn’t for people like Butch and Ian. Now, she was spending more and more of her days content playing with grass and giggling at the slightest tickle. “Well, there’s only so far you can push before something snaps or pushes back on you.” Unfortunately, Ian just didn’t seem to be able to accept the reality of his life. I had traumatized him… or at least scared him into wetting his pants. It was a lot, but he hadn’t broken down. His strain of ARV was strong, and he would have ended up in Building 4 anyways. He hadn’t exactly been quiet when he received his test results back one day, so I knew that much at least. Still, even with everything showing that I was justified, and my actions didn’t have any true long-term consequences, Ian still viewed me as the enemy. So, he took a swing at me. Being a few inches shorter than me, no longer possessing the strength or the coordination he used to have, I was easily able to dodge the initial blow and block the follow-through as he pushed forward. I could still see his hatred though, so I made sure to lightly push him back. “Ahhh!” he shouted at the heavens, almost like he was demanding some divine intervention to suddenly smite me on the spot. Instead, he grunted and hunched forward. If he was a bull in a cartoon, little puffs of steam would be flaring from his nostrils right then. “I hate you! I’m Ian! Ian the puncher, the rock, the boss… the man!” I could see him start to falter a little, but he was still going about as strong as he could. “How could you do that to me? I’m an AR like you! I should have been… well, there should have been a limit to what we did. I shouldn’t have pushed you and bullied you all. I’m sorry for that, but why?” I could see his façade melt away even more as a few tears began to appear rolling down his cheeks. “Why did you have to go so far and make me wet my pants? You used something I feared against me? Why? Why did you do that?” I had given him my answer, but I’m not sure if his emotional state was allowing for that right now. I wished I could have snapped him out of the tailspin he was putting himself in, but I knew he just had to ride this one out. The crowd that had started forming around the now crying and upset AR held back as well. Also, as he continued to rant and rave against me, I started to wonder if his brain was still functioning too. “You… you… you big meanie!” I could see him being to slip. A word or too slurred. His movements slowed and then became uncoordinated. He wasn’t breaking, but after seeing it in my friends and even in myself plenty of times, I could tell a bout of Infasia was setting hold in the former bully. Almost as if to prove my theory correct, I saw the poor and sorry AR begin to squat and grunt. “You shoulda known… grrr… bettuh!” His face clenched and his eyes closed briefly. I could just make out the faint crinkle of plastic being moved and his grunt were obvious to anyone around. Ian… the boss, the fighter, the bully… the man, was now pooping his diaper. A tiny toot at the end almost ended the moment like so many old cartoons did as well. “I… I… where was I?” Even for a, well, I guess former enemy, it was still a tough scene to see unfold before my eyes. It happened to so many around here, but Ian’s was public and obvious. He was trying to make the point that he didn’t belong here and that I was responsible for his fall. I would confess that I provided the trigger initially, but all this… him being in Building 4… that was all on his own. His latest accident and even confusion were just further points of proof of that and that he truly belonged here. So, with a sigh, I knew I had to bury the hatchet. I could claim victory over the former bully, but it was a hollow one. Ian had been vanquished, but not by any elaborate plan of mine. No, a steady and vicious disease combined with something as simple as time proved to be his ultimate undoing. “Ian… buddy…” I stepped closer to him, but maybe in fear of me or just ready to defend himself, he stepped back as well. “Look… let’s get you inside and find one of the attendants. I think you nee…” “Wha’? Why? I don’ need their… help. I’m a… a…” His defenses were clearly on high alert, but he quickly trailed off. Maybe it was the step back that alerted him to his current predicament or a slim part of his still normally functioning mind taking over, but either way, he stopped, and his eyes widened. “No… no… it can’t be!” “Ian…” I wanted to reach out and try to spare him the humiliation of such a public realization, but his hand shot up in the air, stopping me before I could continue. “Don’t! I…” Ian wiggled slightly, maybe trying to dispel what was likely his worst fear, but I only saw his eyes widen further and his right hand unclench and beginning to travel around to his rear. I could see the fear gnawing at him as it crept further back… only to suddenly stop. “No, no, no!” Then, in an almost unprecedented move, even for an AR, Ian dropped his shorts. I had seen it before with those in the midst of a bout of Infasia, but it was pretty rare to still be lucid and do it, so, naturally, most of the crowd surrounding Ian gasped in shock. Unfortunately, even to the most untrained observer, two things were immediately obvious. First, the wetness indicator on the front of his racecar-themed diaper was completely blue and the front sagged heavily. Second though… and more damning, was his rear… now discolored as well and lumpy in the worst of ways. Ian poking the mass back there didn’t help matters. But as usual, Miss Bea and Miss Josie were as vigilant as ever and right as Ian looked like he was about to completely lose it, Miss Josie swooped in and plucked him off the ground, quickly rushing him away and back inside. Just as the backdoor opened and they disappeared inside, I could just make out a long and horrible wail. Like the sounding of a gong, it was a clear indication that Ian the bully was no more. Miss Bea, however, stayed behind. “Now… I want you all to think long and hard about what just happened there. Ian refused our help over and over again and made all that much worse. I know all this is hard and almost gives each of you an impossible feeling to all this, but please… trust me when I say that this is not the end of your lives. Everyone here is vulnerable, and everyone here has had a past. It doesn’t matter. We’re all in this together, so, please… when Ian returns, make him feel welcome and be kind and supportive of your fellow AR, okay?” “Yes, Miss Bea!” we all shouted in unison. I knew without question that Miss Bea was trying to ease us all into the next phases of our lives. It was hard, humiliating, and sometimes even painful, but by virtue of being here, she knew that we were all going to have a moment just like Ian one day. Whether it was while we were blissed out with Infasia or right in the middle of an argument with a former enemy, regressing to our bounced ages was going to happen. With the stress of recess behind us, we were all then led back inside. This time, the afternoon nap was had by all. While it wasn’t necessary, few resisted it, and honestly, I think I had only lasted a week before I embraced it as well. Sure, the crib was babyish, but the quiet time and lovely recharge to one’s batteries were hard to beat. So, with a little fleece blanket over me and Poofin wrapped in my arms, I fell asleep to the quiet twinkling music that Miss Josie had popped on for Ian. A few cribs over, he was passed out like everyone else. Upon waking up, it was snack time once more. This time it was cheese cubes, orange slices, and some salty pretzel sticks. Jeremy, now out of his bout of Infasia, was flabbergasted what had happened to Ian. “Holy smokes! He pooped? Just right there?” I nodded. “Yep, and he then pantsed himself. I couldn’t believe it was the same guy who had tortured so many in the past two buildings and once controlled part of the city.” “Maybe he was reverting to how he used to be?” Harriet mused. Both Jeremy and I snapped over to her, a pretzel stick dangling out of both our mouths, to which she chuckled a little. “Yeah… when I was running the state senate race, I had to do a bit on organized crime. Ian came from nothing and only turned to fighting after years of being picked on when he was younger. Something about coming to school in rags? I’m not sure, but I know he once dislocated a guy’s jaw for talking about his childhood.” It was hard to feel bad for someone like that, but it was becoming more common practice now to see most ARs around our age as two separate people. Like my mom had noted, even me with my comparatively limited Infasia, was Pete and ‘little Petey.’ It wasn’t that we were completely different… just more of two personalities and actions most of the time. Seeing Ian outside dropping his shorts and then crying over a loaded diaper, it wasn’t hard to see that there was certainly a different person than the former boxer and then turned enforcer for the local mob. Finishing up, each of us then helped Miss Josie and Miss Bea set up for what they called sensory time. It usually coincided with an art project but today was definitely more about feeling. Donning oversized clothing as impromptu smocks, we all stared back at Miss Josie for our instructions. “Okay, class. Today is going to be a really simple but fun recipe.” She then pulled a few bowls from under the table she was instructing from. “Miss Bea and some of our other attendants are going to come around with bowls of the mixture for you to mix yourself. For anyone unsure, just let us know and we can help you mix. We want everyone to enjoy this activity. Julia quickly raised her hand. “Miss… Miss Josie?” Miss Josie nodded to her. “Do we… do we need any, uh, magic for this potion?” A few snickered and it was obvious that Julia had popped out briefly from her Infasia earlier but was now pretty well slipping back under. Adopting a personality where she claimed to be a princess, anything in her life around her was all aligned to that fantasy. I was just glad that I was the heroic knight. “Class…” Miss Josei shot everyone laughing a stern look and they quickly buttoned their mouths up. Turning back to Julia, she smiled and shook her head. “No, sweetie. Not this time. This is just going to be like making food back at home. “So… we can eat it?” another AR asked abruptly. This time, no one giggled, and instead, most of the class turned back to Miss Josie, eagerly awaiting her response. “Hmmm… nothing is harmful, but it might taste kind of icky.” The boy seemed a little disappointed but didn’t put up a fuss. Then, with no other questions, Miss Bea and the other attendants and volunteers began to distribute the supplies. Passing around, they were extraordinarily simple. One large bowl of water, another bowl of corn starch, and to most of our delight, a Kool-Aid mix packet that we got to choose ourselves. Personally, I opted for the Tropical Punch flavoring. “Now then… add the cornstarch, that’s the powdery mix, right into the bowl.” A few of the attendants helping others, I dumped mine first and then made sure to help Luna with her own. Looking over before, I saw that she was about to dump it all over herself. With the crisis now avoided, Miss Josie got us all to pour our Kool-Aid mix in and then go right to stir with a plastic fork. “It’s so gooey!” Harriet shouted; a smile plastered all over her face. “An’ messy!” Julia said, giggling a little. “I kind like that,” Frank admitted. As for me, my liquid mess soon turned into a goopy slime of sorts. I had made one back in Elementary school using Borax but already seeing a few of the Infasia ARs in the class licking their fingers, I knew the decision for this recipe was better suited to our… drawbacks. The paste oozed back and forth between everyone’s fingers. It was slimy and yet beautiful. Squishing it tight reverted it back to more of a muddy substance, but for the most part, most of us just kind of played around with it. A few began to toss at each other, but I made sure to duck for the brief moment it occurred. Miss Bea and another attendant volunteer quickly put a stop to it before anything too major took place. “Clean up! Clean up! Everybody do their share!” Miss Bea and Miss Josie both sang the clean up song with practiced ease and got everyone… at least those who could, to begin help them cleaning up the area. For those succumbing to Infasia, they lunged back and nibbled on their toes or cuddled with their own stuffed animals. Looking back to my cubby, Poofin was there… safe and tucked away until I needed him again. Last, but certainly not least, was simply playtime. Some days, our group would all just use the time to talk and unwind about the day. If there was a problem, we solved it then. We also rehearsed our story time slot and then just plain gossiped about our own lives. It was very cathartic, but those times were also cut short by two factors… going home a little early that day or anyone slipping to Infasia. Today, most of the group was just able to talk. Before I knew it, the day was over. Being a Wednesday though, unlike a few of the others, our group was staying after for a therapy session. So, sneaking up from behind me and tickling my sides briefly, my mom gave me a big hug. “Hey there, Petey! You have a good day here?” “Mom…” I groaned, quickly looking around to see if anyone was laughing at our interaction, but I saw basically the same thing going on with everyone else. Off in the distance though, I saw Polly being informed over what had happened with her younger brother earlier today. By her side and tremendously muted, I saw Ian practically clinging to her leg. As odd as it might sound, I was starting to feel bad for the former bully. We didn’t have anything to fear from him anymore, but it wasn’t hard to see that he now had a lot to fear from the world himself. It was a cruel twist of irony, but that was just life with ARV. Settling into group therapy with my mom once more after everyone else had left, it was a bit of an odd session to start with by looking around at who was here. More and more now, the group was almost not even present for a chunk of the meeting. Yes, most of us collaborated and vented our feelings or shared a funny story with the group, but those times were getting shorter each week. “An’ then the bunny scampered off into da woods!” Luna said, finishing her story. “Oh?” Miss Bea seemed surprised. “I thought you two lived in a neighborhood near here?” Daphne nodded. “We do. It’s just… we have a lot of friends back at a commune near here. We left after they got a little… too radical for our tastes, but we still know a lot of people there. Plus… Luna seems to enjoy it there, so I put up with it most Saturdays now.” “That’s very admirable of you,” Dr. Smothers complimented, finally looking up from her tablet. “If you’re going back though, surely it can be too much of a bad place.” Daphne looked hesitant and grimaced slightly. “Well… it’s…” There was something she was holding back, and I think we all saw it, but Dr. Smothers made no effort to push her further. “I really just do it for Luna.” Luna quickly responded by nuzzling over into her for a quick cuddle. Daphne reciprocated and showed her nothing but the affection most of us came to know from our own caregiver. “Also… I have to confess, but I’m also going partly out of worry.” “Oh?” I could tell Dr. Smothers was highly intrigued now. “Yeah… last time I left her alone and got someone else to giver her a ride there and back… she…” Daphne trailed off again and tenderly stroked Luna’s hair. “Well, last time she did something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. I won’t say what today or in this place, but… I don’t think most would approve of it.” Dr. Smothers reassured her that her secrets would stay safe withing the group and like had been told to Ian, all that was in the past now. It was a little different for our caregivers, seeing and remembering everything, even if we didn’t, but it was still a common sentiment for all involved in our lives. Still, hearing all that about Luna… I still hadn’t found my rat or the person here from the ’87 terrorist group. Looking at her cuddling peacefully with Daphne, it was hard to fathom, but if Ian had shown me anything, she had about an equal shot of being the rat as Frank did. Now… I wasn’t so sure.

Hey everyone! Happy St. Patrick’s Day! In retrospect, I think I might need to start placing stories in the polls that are holiday/event themed when I know I will be releasing on around them. I have a pretty interesting and fun story that would have worked really well for today, but oh well. Something to think about for the future, I guess. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 20: Home is Usually a Safe Place Essentially celebrating my own Independence Day a few days after the fact, I was grateful to finally get the chance to sleep in my own bed… or at least that’s what everyone kept telling me how I should feel when I found out on Thursday this week that I was finally going home. It was a wonderful milestone, I won’t deny that, but there was also a bit of solemn dread that washed over me as well. Yes, Amanda and I had kept the truce since I first meetup and my first subsequent slip into Infasia, and yes, my mom and dad and I were on better terms, and I felt cared for… but going back was bigger than just my relationships with my family. Going back meant that I was deemed as stable enough in my mentality, or that at least the staff were no longer worried about me having a breakdown. And while that meant I was getting better and less likely to crack under the strain of ARV, it also meant that they felt I was now adjusting to being my new age… currently clocked in at less than 3 years old. Picking up a habit from Amanda when she was younger at least, I was two and three quarters… I think, to be specific. Foolish maybe, but at my younger age now, I quickly realized why she always insisted on halves and quarters growing up as she did… all that and every little month… it all contributed. For people so young, every little bit of maturity helped. Especially dipping under three now, it was also a sobering reality that a half or even a quarter of a year was equivalent to potentially ten percent of my life now just being overlooked if you only rounded to the year. So, yes, I was younger, but there was still a wide gulf between my current age and being a measly two years old exactly. Still, being placed into a category of one of acceptance, made me worry about what that meant for my future. Having increasing bouts of Infasia wasn’t helping either, and all totaled, I was worried that one day, I might soon lose track of who I am… or was I guess at that point. Miss Bea insisted that wasn’t going to be the case for me, and Gina did her best to agree as well from a medical viewpoint while Dr. Smothers tried to help me in her own way, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. So, when I woke up this morning, knowing it was going to be the last morning I woke up here in the Linfield Building 4 crib, I almost didn’t want to go. Going meant everyone would know that I was accepting my life as a baby… at least physically. It was a lot to process all at once, so, needless to say, I made sure to give Poofin a big hug soon after. Still, I had some cause to celebrate. Not only was I going home, but with Jeremy’s help, we were now able to narrow down the candidates for who the rat and likely ’87 terrorist was. Based on former professions and overall sentiments, Julia and Harriet were eliminated a few days ago with absolute certainty. Now, only Frank and Luna were left, but both were posing a challenge. Both had been here long enough to meet the criteria, had the cultural background to join a rogue terrorist group, and yet both still had a lot of their past that no one else knew about either. Frank had been a prepper or survivalist, but it was hard to know where he was on Orange Day. Luna didn’t have any strong alibi for Orange Day, and while she seemed more of the peace and love type of person formerly belonging to a commune, she also spouted several phrases of a desire to ‘go back’ or connect with our roots again. “So, you think it’s Luna or Frank?” Jeremy asked at my little farewell party that Miss Bea and Miss Josie were throwing me. Streamers hung from the walls and there was plenty of cake and other goodies to be had while fun and upbeat music played in the background. “I don’t know… I just… what do you think?” Going home today, my head was spinning in all sorts of directions, and it was hard to focus on anything else. Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know either, but Harriet had an interesting idea.” We both then turned to the former political operative, still wiping her cheeks from her previous bout of Infasia that left her to dive mouth first into the large chunk of vanilla cake with bright blue frosting. “Ugh! I’ll never get this off my face at this rate!” she cursed. It took Jeremy clearing his throat to pop her back into what we were talking about. “Oh. Yeah… sorry. I’m thinking Frank. He’s got the attitude and just too many gaps.” “I think iss Luna,” Julia noted, waddling over to us, a partially torn streamer clutched in her hand and floating behind her. She was still coming out of her bout of Infasia, so it was a little harder to tally her vote, but our group made it a habit to never just outright dismiss anyone. “She likes all dis baby tweatment an’ she even said her pwevious commune wanted to change evewything.” It was a bit of a weak argument against Luna, but it was still evidence against her that most of the rest of us didn’t have. Before we could discuss the matter further, however, Miss Bea came over to us. “All ready to go, Pete? Your mom just called us and said she and the rest of your family are on their way.” I looked back at my friends, and I think they all got the message, or were prompted by others who did, and left me alone with her. We had already said our goodbyes earlier, and now I had to prepare to go home. Looking back, I nodded. “Yeah… thank you for the party, but honestly, I’m really nervous about this whole thing.” Miss Bea nodded and crouched closer to the floor to get near my level. “Oh? Still nervous about Amanda? You know, she is much better recently. Dr. Smothers has done some amazing work with her and got to some of the roots of her issues.” “Yeah… well, that’s great, but…” I looked down at my diminutive form. It wasn’t the greatest loss of height, but about eight inches off the top since I last went home wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Plus, my diapered state was painfully obvious and then there came the public. Miss Bea and Miss Josie had taken me on strolls around the block and had even seated me in a stroller and car seat as part of the program here to get me used to things in the outside world, but there was still a gnawing sensation as I looked forward to my life back home. Here, there was at least a safety net, and I was surrounded by those who at least understood from their profession, if not personal experience, of what I was going through. At home, it was a sobering thought that maybe only Poofin would know what I had gone through and seen all the loss and would be unbiased towards me. Yes, he wasn’t alive… my Infasia wasn’t that bad, but his constant and unjudgmental presence in my life was going to be hard to match. I had trailed off a bit, and understanding as ever, Miss Bea just nodded and seemed to understand where I was coming from, likely from the hundreds of times she had seen this exact same scenario. “I understand, Pete. Just take all this one step at a time. Deep breaths and try to focus on the positives.” Hearing a little buzz and seeing a yellow light flick on in the distance, I could see that it was obvious to me and Miss Bea that Gladys was letting us know that someone was at the front. Seeing the time, and barring any emergency, chances are, were almost 100% that it was my family. “That must be them…” I nodded back in acknowledgement, another pit forming in my stomach. “You’ll be okay, Pete. Your family are good people… just maybe a little misguided sometimes. Teach them and gave them some time and some of your patience.” She then rubbed my arm comfortingly before standing back up. “Plus, just remember that ARSED should be coming around today or tomorrow for an inspection. Agent… Carlyle, I believe is coming over and he’s very professional. If there’s really a problem for you… he’s the one to find it, okay?” “Okay…” My nerves were still going haywire within me, but I was at least more comforted by her words. So, taking her offered hand in support, a habit I had picked up to provide me with a constant source of comfort and guidance in a much larger world now, we both made our way to the front. Confirming our assumption, Amanda and our parents were all standing and waiting for me. Oddly, Lucas seemed to be absent. “There he is!” my dad called out first. We had been the same height before all this, but now… the man looked practically like a giant. Amanda jerked toward me, but this time, my mom held her back. “Easy, sweetie. Let’s take this slow.” Like had clearly been practiced, Amanda then almost looked like she pushed her own energy aside and just smiled back at me. Waving a little, she revealed a wide array of her own baby teeth, but I knew they wouldn’t last. Our family always seemed to be early in that development, and to be frank, it was a little reminder of the differences between us now. Knowing my bounce age approximately, I wondered which of us would gain new teeth first. Her with her new permanent adult teeth, or me gaining back my baby teeth. Regardless, I knew the time was coming up very shortly when I was about to start to lose a few of mine. In fact, my back molar already felt loose this morning. ‘Darn it…’ “Hey, Petey.” I could see her reserve holding, but I knew her five-year-old energy was still there. It was a little terrifying to see someone almost a foot taller than you now be so eager to treat you like the baby you looked like, but still, I had to admire her restraint… especially compared to the past few times I had seen her. “Hey, Amanda. Thank you for holding back. All this is… a little weird still.” My parents both smiled, and I could tell they were proud of both of us. Amanda for her restraint and me from my strength through all this. I knew they had to possess strength as well, but it wasn’t hard to see the growing trend of ARs that completely broke down as they were regressing. At this point, anyone who didn’t was being congratulated almost universally for beating the odds. “Alright, I think that just about does it,” Lucas noted, stepping in now as well. “Sorry that took a little longer than usual. The car seat just didn’t want to buckle properly. Almost had to tear out a seat to get it in there.” He then paused and saw all of us staring at him. “What? I miss something?” Our parents rolled their eyes, and true to form, Lucas seemed to think nothing of it before waving to me. “Hey there, bro. Ready to go home?” Looking up at Miss Bea, she smiled and nodded, boosting my confidence ever so slightly. Looking back at my family, it was my turn to nod. “Yes… let’s go home…” Ten minutes later, I was on my way back to my childhood home… or at least I should say my home now for the past now almost seven months. I couldn’t believe all that had happened since, but sitting strapped in my new car seat, I knew I wasn’t done yet with all the changes in my life. Fortunately, my parents cranked up the music and easily distracted my sister by singing some songs from her latest favorite animated movie rather than bugging me. Before they had, she was already buzzing with that previously pent-up energy about all the new changes to the house since I had last been there. Pushing beyond what I heard with those, I had to admit that some of the songs were actually a little catchy, but I was far more distracted by the life of the world still moving on outside my window. Like almost a metaphor of my, and most other AR’s lives now, the outside world was moving at seemingly breakneck speeds while we remained trapped. Already, Orange Day was getting further beyond everyone’s memory and knowing an AR was almost becoming commonplace. Likely, at least a few people in your family have been hit, and at least one is below the age of 18 now. People like me and the others from Building 4 were still more of an oddity in society, but considering my fate at the moment, I felt that was still a good thing. After all, as much as I hated diapers still, I knew they were necessary. And like it or not, when diapers are involved and one’s fingers aren’t the best or most dexterous, there will always need to be someone doing the changing of them. Fortunately, my own regression was slowing and despite a few tears shed at Linfield, everyone knew I was coming back on Monday of next week. No matter if I liked it or not, the fact was that I now needed help in life. Linfield was an easy solution, and despite Building 4 essentially being a daycare during the day, people like Miss Bea and Miss Josie knew how to handle someone like me. But that was just during the day, Monday through Friday. Turning the corner and seeing my home once more, I knew there was a whole other world now waiting for me. Only time would tell if my fears were unfounded or not. So, pulling into the driveway and eventually being helped from my car seat, my feet touched the pavement of the driveway and then the steps into the house. It now seemed gargantuan and a looming terror in my life… ready to capture me back up and force me to live the days I thought had long passed me by. Having difficulty even stepping up the first step onto the front porch felt like an ill omen. Still, I was soon inside. To my relief, not much had changed. I could sense that everyone in my family was waiting for any signs of distress, but I didn’t feel the need to freak out. To my surprise, even as I calmly walked around the house, everyone giving me at least a little space, I didn’t freak out when I noticed the small things here and there. For example, it was almost like flashing back to when Lucas or Amanda was much younger and that everything had been babyproofed. I might have put up a fuss, but Miss Bea had shot some footage of me in the midst of a bout of Infasia the other day. It wasn’t even for very long, and Dr. Smothers had some tremendous reservations about it, but fortunately, I didn’t embarrass myself too badly. What I did see though was me trying to eat paint. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of Infasia incidents ARs suffered from, but it was enough for me to realize that the precautions I was seeing now weren’t for the version of me I was right then. The precautions were for the version of me that could get smacked with Infasia at any time and sink into its murky depths. But all that was pretty standard. I had seen it before with my younger siblings when they were this age for real, so I knew I had to expect all that on some level. Maybe it bugged me a little, but it was at least understandable. As I wandered through the house more though, I began to get a little nervous about my future. Like it or not with what it looked like, Poofin was starting to feel like a life preserver in this tumultuous change in my life now. Walking through the family room, I spotted a still folded playpen tucked away but still brought up from storage from when Amanda had last used it. Entering the kitchen, though pushed to the side and out of the way, I saw a highchair as well and found only a strange relief when I saw the booster seat at the kitchen table I was going to use instead. But all that paled in comparison to the upstairs. True, there was no baby gate going up there, but I saw the old familiar latches at least drilled back into the wall and railing for the metal one they used with Amanda. The stairs were also a major pain, and I was absolutely winded by the top, but I had made it alone, and that had to count for something. Then, looking into the bathroom, I noticed lotions, soaps, and shampoos… all listed for babies. My stool was now completely gone, smiling no-slip stickers in the shape of smiling baby octopuses dotted the bottom of the tub, but most damning of all… no training potty whatsoever. I knew I had to expect that, especially with the lack of control I was definitely now exhibiting, but it was my first real sign of change in the house. Getting to my room next though, was the other. A bounce age is a curious thing when dealing with ARV. As the weeks passed while I was staying in Building 4 at Linfield, I came to realize that one of the reasons that it was likely kept from me, besides all the others I had prattled off before, was that caregivers tended to plan for the long term. With ages seeming halted more often than not at a bounce age, planning for the future was everything. Sure, items still were needed in the interim but planning for what could be a stage lasting months or even years this go around was critical. So, I knew all that when I was seeing the highchair, or the hinges for the baby gate, or even the playpen in the family room. My room though… I should have expected a change, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next. Clearly picking up from my love of hiking and the outdoors from my old life, the room… ‘Screw it’ nursery was decorated with various decals on the walls of cloudy mountains and fresh pine forests. The furniture itself was an array of oaken pieces, each matching, and each looking both infantile and rugged at the same time. Everything smelled fresh, but seeing the awaiting changing table, already stocked full, I wondered with horror just how long that was going to last. “So… do you like it, sweetie?” my mom asked, bringing up the rear of the column that was my family. They had been following me everywhere still, and now in my new room, it seemed they couldn’t hold back any longer. “It’s… it’s…” I really wasn’t sure what to tell them. ‘Oh, it’s ugly and I hate every bit of it, not because of the décor, but because it’s a reminder of everything I lost and can no longer do?’ No… all that just felt far too cruel for people that I knew were just trying to look out for me and make the best of this situation. Sure, would I maybe have liked rock and roll posters jammed in between copies of famous works of art? Maybe, but that wasn’t my reality today. Today, I needed to put my best foot forward and show my thanks. After all, with ARV, I could be under their care for a very long time. “Thank you…” Relief clearly washed over everyone’s face, even including Amanda’s. Looking over to the bookshelf, I wondered if she had made any suggestions to what was lined there… especially after I spotted If You Give a Mouse a Cookie in between 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and All Quiet on the Western Front. Walking into the room a little further, I saw that great care and attention had gone into everything. Fresh smells and the thick carpet made the room feel far more pleasant than in most of the time I had spent here since I had returned home. Touching a thick blanket draped over my soon-to-be crib, I admired its softness and more masculine colors. It was a small relief, but the feeling was there as well. I just… it was hard to rationalize in my mind that all this was now needed for my safety or comfort. “So… how long did it take for…?” The doorbell then sounded and stopped me cold. Looking at my family, their faces turned about just as grave as mine. Knowing the time and the schedule, there really only was one candidate who could be at the door at this point: Agent Carlyle from ARSED to do his examination of our household here. “Okay,” my dad said after taking a deep breath, “no one panic. We have nothing to hide and I’m sure we’ll all pass with flying colors.” I couldn’t help but notice his brief glance at Amanda, and I wondered just how in-depth his round of interviews was going to be for all of us. So, without further ado, we all then made it downstairs. Just as my dad began to open the door, my mom appeared behind me and gave me a small hug. “Just relax, Pete. You have nothing to worry about. We’ve been preparing with the help of Dr. Smothers, Gina, and even Miss Bea. All you need to do is to answer his questions straight. Don’t lie and everything should be fine.” Touching her arm back in gratitude at her comforting words, I looked back at her, nodded, and then faced the front door once more… just in time for Agent Carlyle to come in. While Agent Brooks had been the near epitome of hardened government agent, Agent Carlyle was anything but. His face had a few wrinkles, but they looked more like indentations from years of laughter and smiling than of hardship on the job. Carrying a briefcase, I even saw a few glances of sticker sheets contained inside. Looking down at a tablet in his hands, once the door opened, he looked back up at and smiled at everyone. “Good evening. Agent Carlyle from ARSED.” In seconds, like had been long practiced, he whipped out his official ID badge and then repocketed it. “So, you all are aware… just in case, I’m here to conduct an official government inspection of your home and the household within now that you are undergoing the act of caregiving for one Peter Crichton.” “Yes, sir, Agent Carlyle,” my dad responded curtly. His old days working with the military coming back sharply. “Here is right here.” My dad then gestured back toward me, and I could feel myself shrinking under this new agent’s glared, despite appearance, still a little worried that he was going to be similar to the abrasive and uncaring Agent Brooks. To be honest, I think Agent Carlyle picked up on that. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Pete.” He then crouched down a little to shake my hand, which I shook back, albeit it with some trembling hands. “It’s okay. You don’t need to fear me. I know you probably have a bad impression of ARSED from Agent Brooks, but I assure you… I go about my job very differently.” He then stood back up. “For example, I know this can be a stressful event for everyone. So, what I would suggest, being that it’s such a nice day out, I would like to take one of the caregivers here on a tour through the house. Everyone else can wait outside and just relax. Once I’m done with the tour, I can come back and do the interviews, finishing off with you, Pete. Does that sound like a plan?” The sigh of relief from everyone was very audible, eliciting a quick chuckle from everyone afterward, even me. “I would take that as a yes from all of us, Agent Carlyle,” my mom said, still stifling a slight giggle in her voice. “Perfect.” He then stepped inside and set his briefcase down. “I’m just going to set this here for now. Just need my tablet for this first part.” My parents nodded before he turned back to them. “Now, which of you wants to do the tour? And just for the record, this is more of a strict, is it there or not situation. Elaboration on anything will be done for both of you will be done during the interview process.” My parents nodded and then looked at each other. Glancing quickly at Amanda and I, both seemed in agreement. “I guess I’ll be the one to take you on a tour. Meanwhile, Karen can get us all something to drink and calm everyone down out back.” “Excellent!” Already, I could tell the difference with Agent Carlyle from Agent Brooks. Like a little teapot, I could feel the previous pent-up steam of anxiety building inside of me quickly whistling out. “Let’s start upstairs, shall we?” Nodding, both Agent Carlyle and my dad then disappeared up the stairs. So, shuffling each of us out, Lucas and our mom all then gathered in the backyard. Amanda seemed perfectly content with playing with her tea set while my mom, Lucas, and I all talked about various things that were on our minds. My mom vented about her book club, Lucas vented about the job market, and I vented about the rat at Linfield. Hearing about them before, both Lucas and our mom had a few suggestions that I was eager to try out when I went back on Monday. “… and that’s about it for in here,” my dad said, finishing up the tour while Agent Carlyle busily scribbled and dotted inside his tablet. I would have given just about anything to see what was in there, but I knew the big moment had now arrived. “Lemonade?” my mom offered Agent Carlyle as he finally looked up from his tablet. “Oh,” he said, seeming pleasantly surprised. “Don’t mind if I do. Thank you, ma’am.” He took a long swig of the lemonade and then nodded back to my mom. “Ah! That’s some good stuff. Thank you.” He wiped his lips quickly and then gestured back to my dad. “Okay… I’ll start with you. We already started talking a little bit, so I just need to finish a few questions, then no problem, okay?” “Sounds good.” My dad had no fear, and his confidence was a breath of fresh air from the previous times I had seen him. I wondered if he talked to Dr. Smothers as well, but his previously reserved demeanor was gone and his more serious at times while jovial at others was back. “Now, where do you want to do this?” Agent Carlyle checked his tablet and scrolled a little bit through it. “Hmmm… unless you have any objection, how about the living room? It’s far enough away from back here to give us some privacy, and if my eye was any good, the seating in there looked mighty comfortable.” “Sounds like a plan.” My dad then gestured back inside. “After you…” Agent Carlyle nodded and retreated back inside to start the interviews. So, one by one, every member of the family went before me. After Lucas, feeling he might have a chance at telling me what was discussed, I poked at him a little. “So… what did you talk about? Anything weird? Or problematic maybe that I should know about?” To my surprise, he leaned over and pressed his pointer finger to his lips. “Shhh… not so loud. None of us are allowed to talk about what he asked us. I want to tell you, Pete, but I’m not messing around with ARSED. Agent Carlyle seems nice, but… maybe the others are more like Agent Brooks. I mean, do you really want to deal with an agency full of people like him?” I had never thought about it that way, so I only backed up and shook my head. Feeling a little fear now, I remained quiet the whole time and tried to distract myself with almost anything else. Fortunately, it was Amanda’s turn right then and she soon returned. Seeing her even smiling for a second and sporting a ‘Good Job’ sticker on her shirt now, I felt things must not have gone too bad. Still, when Agent Carlyle scanned the backyard and quickly found me, I felt a tiny knot twisting in my stomach. “Alright, Pete. Last but not least. Come on back.” Nodding, I stood on shaky legs and followed him inside. Getting to the living room, he gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat…” It was a little difficult, but I managed to hoist myself up on it after a little bit. Sadly, right then, I might have preferred one of the multicolored plastic chairs from Linfield that I ate my breakfast in usually to that whole display. At least with the chair, despite how it looked, I could at least sit normally… or at least how I used to. Climbing up on the couch and then sitting back on the cushions, my feet now barely hanging over the edge, I felt even more childish than usual. “Alright… let’s see here…” I saw Agent Carlyle looking over a thick manilla folder, one that was clearly marked with my name and a few other labels and numbers. “Peter Crichton… looks like they misdiagnosed you initially, but then… oh yes. Looks like your parents withheld your diagnosis of ‘under three’ until you were already going down from Building 3 to Building 4, huh?” “Yes… that’s right…” I didn’t like being reminded of that fact, but I knew this question was coming. “So, how’d that make you feel?” he asked first. “Do you harbor any bad feelings toward them for doing that to you? Must have been very frustrating to be left out of something that is so consequential to your life.” I sighed and I knew he was probing me for weaknesses or potential spots of worry between me and the rest of my family. Considering the position that both my parents were in over me now, I knew I couldn’t take it personally. “No… at least not anymore. I asked them both about it, but I felt it was my mom who pushed for it.” “So, you have feelings of anger toward her?” he asked, probing again. I shook my head. “No. Again, not anymore. She did what she did, and I won’t lie… I held a lot of resentment toward her, but we were able to push past that. I mean… look at me. I need help these days and even getting on this stupid couch was a challenge. I remember that I used to just plop down on this thing after school ten years ago, but now…” “Okay, so fences are mended with your parents.” He began to scribble down a few notes in his tablet. “But what about coming back here. All good there? Or is it strange to be back in a place you grew up the first time?” Definitely strange,” I admitted. “I might have chosen to do all this elsewhere, but I know the neighborhood. It’s safe and it worked growing up the first time. Of all the things I would choose to change, living in this place would be near the bottom of the list.” Agent Carlyle seemed genuinely shocked about my comments, but he seemed to be more accepting of them the more he asked and the more I answered truthfully. Sure, his questions about diapers or the furniture in the house or my new room caught me off guard and I got a little uncomfortable, but I pushed through them with ease… at least until we got to my sister. “Now, I talked with Amanda at length. You should know,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “she seems very excited about her new baby brother.” Again, I knew he was probing, and for all I knew, he could have been lying as well, but with the information I had at hand, it didn’t seem like it, so my feelings of dread soon bubbled to the surface once more. “She… she did?” Agent Carlyle leaned forward. “She did. In fact, I think she plans on involving you in some of her activities of play. She says she even has a list. I didn’t see it, but I don’t think she was lying either.” “No,” I said pitifully, “I don’t think she would lie about something like that. I’m guessing she mentioned something about playing house?” Agent Carlyle nodded. “And maybe save the damsel in distress?” It was a bit of a stretch, but Agent Carlyle nodded once more. I wanted to ask him something I knew was untrue, just to test if he was faking me out, but maybe I didn’t want to know the truth of it all… or maybe I just forgot. Either way, I felt the burden of my sister once more. It all made me wonder when she would finally drop the sibling rivalry act and play the good ‘older’ sister to me like I had when I was her older brother in all ways before. Because of our age gap, sibling rivalry was never a legitimate issue between us, so I always treated her with respect and as a friend and confidante against our parents whenever she needed it. I guess I was just hoping she was going to return the favor sometime soon in our new roles. “I… all that’s not the greatest news, but she’s my sister, and I trust her…” I wasn’t sure if I fully believed that or not, but I knew she was also a little girl in all ways still. She was still growing and learning, and I knew that Dr. Smothers and our parents would guide her along. Talking with Agent Carlyle today, I didn’t want to give her a black mark in the ARSED logbooks. It was a risk I’ll admit, but I just hoped my trust in her would pay off. “Well, at least that I want to trust her and will give her that chance.” “Hmmm…” Agent Carlyle seemed a little surprised, but didn’t push the matter any further, only writing more notes in his tablet. “I’m surprised but that, Pete. Pleasantly surprised, mind you, but surprised.” Writing a few more notes, he finally shut his tablet. “Well, congratulations on making it to the end. I know all this is a big pain and a major stressor, and I’m sorry if that caused you to get Infasia at any point, but I assure you it’s necessary,” he said, looking a little relieved to be done as well. “I just want to make sure that you’re going to be safe here… even if that means taking you away from family. Still, it’s all over now, but just one more thing for you personally.” He then reached into his suit pocket and plucked out a card. “This is for you and you alone. Keep it with you and follow the instructions on the back if you ever need help or advice on something,” he explained as I saw a series of codewords and telephone numbers. “Try to memorize those and use them if you need to speak to me.” I soon pocketed the card and made a mental note to memorize it later. “Going forward, I will be your case officer for as long as I’m with ARSED and you have ARV. Could be months, could be years, but if you need something, I’ll be there. And I think you’ll be grateful for this, but going forward, if there is an issue either her, Linfield, or anywhere else, I’ll be the agent responding… not Agent Brooks. Now, any questions?” I was sure I had a million, but right then, I couldn’t think of any. So, instead, Agent Carlyle led me back out to the rest of my family. “Alright, everyone. That should do it!” Again, I could hear the relief exhale with everyone in the backyard. “One of you will still need to attend regular counseling sessions on Wednesdays with Pete, but I also don’t see that being an issue. For now, though, my official grading and recommendation will be filed in the next day or so, and you should all get the official notification the day after that, but for now, unless I find anything else back at headquarters, you all passed.” “Oh, that’s wonderful!” my mom gushed. “Thank you so much, Agent Carlyle.” “Yes, thank you very much,” my dad reciprocated, going out to shake his hand. Lucas and Amanda made a few remarks after, and Agent Carlyle even patted his pocket to mirror where I had stashed his card as a reminder before he left regarding his personal services to me. Then getting escorted out, we all waved goodbye, but he then strangely pulled my mom aside. She seemed shocked, but then almost relieved and elated. It was confusing to say the least, but my head started scrambling about when he handed her a small slip of paper. I couldn’t hear much, except for one little snippet: “As we discussed…” But then, just as soon as he arrived, with a quick wave of goodbye, Agent Carlyle departed. “So, what was all that about?” my dad asked my mom, seemingly distracted by the slip of paper in her hand. “Oh, nothing, dear…” My dad was clearly about to ask something more, but my mom frowned and looked at him dead in the eyes. “Maplewood.” It was so strange, but in seconds, my dad only nodded and left the room, not saying another word. By then, my head was trying to puzzle out everything, but it was no use. Between my dad’s outright dismissal and Luke’s need to go, my brain just couldn’t focus on it for very long at all. It was annoying, but then, my mom distracted me further. “Hey. It’s a beautiful day outside. How about we go to the park? Just you, me, and Amanda, while Dad finishes a few things up for work. Maybe after we can all go out to eat to celebrate?” I wanted to press her about the slip of paper, but going outside and the prospect of a night eating out seemed too superb for me to start complaining, so I left it alone… still nestled in the back of my mind. Gratefully, my ability to walk was still intact and the park wasn’t that far. Unfortunately, it also made me realize that my ability to walk long distances was now severely curtailed, already getting a little winded once we got to the playground. Also, getting there, after seeing it for months now as a center for AR and normal kids alike, I was now about to amongst them. In another strike in the loss column though, I noticed that kids, even ARs can be very selective and cliquey. While high school might have been divided between theater kids, or the jocks, or the nerds, here it was divided pretty evenly among the age groups and abilities. At my age range though, it became readily apparent that my group had all succumbed or were succumbing to Infasia. “Oh… do I have to go over to them?” I asked my mom right after Amanda fled to go hang out with kids her own age. “They’re so…” I decided not to finish that sentence, fearing it would just set me up for being called a baby in public. “Can’t I just walk around the perimeter of the playground? I…” “No, Pete,” my mom said firmly, looking over briefly to the other moms there. “I’m sorry, but there’s just too many kids out here today. One of them could knock you down and with your size… well, it wouldn’t be good.” Looking over though, I could tell she didn’t like my options either. “Well… maybe interact with some of the ARs in the group a little older? They look friendly, right?” I was very hesitant, but I didn’t want to argue with her in such a public place. That would only mark me as an AR, which I was, but I wasn’t comfortable announcing that to everyone. Hopefully, I looked different enough that I wouldn’t draw too much attention and cause a sce… “Hey!” a roughly eight-year-old kid called out to me, going as far as to even block my path to the other ARs. “You’re an AR, right?” Wanting to get this over quickly, I just nodded. “Heh… yeah. I thought so. My uncle’s an AR… Now he poops his pants all the time. Do you do that, baby?” I could tell the kid was just a garden variety bully and trying to get a rise out of his newest victim. Looking around for support from the other ARs and even kids his age, his fear seemed palpable. He was just another example of how something so minor from a year ago, now seemed insurmountable. Guaranteed, a year ago, I could have flicked the kid, and he would have gone running. That might have even been the case six months ago, but now… I could only stare at his large mass in fear of what he might do to me. “Please,” I pleaded, much to my shame, but also my only option with so few left to me. “Please, just let me go and see the other ARs and…” The kid then poked me… hard and right in the shoulder. “I said… do you poop your pants, baby?” His friends, minions, cronies, whatever… all snickered around him. He seemed to enjoy the attention and pushed me again. I could already feel the emotion welling up behind my eyes. It wasn’t good, but I felt like I was trapped between two terrible places. If I stayed, I would have to surrender to his will or get pummeled after I would try to stand up to him. If I left though… my only option to do that was to call out for my mom to come rescue me. I would definitely be marked as a baby then in his and everyone else’s eyes forever after. “No,” I said with some confidence, though I knew it was partially a lie. After all, Infasia was me, but it was another side to me as well, and apparently, there had been a few times… “No, I do not poop my pants. Now please… let me through.” “Hmphh!” The bully seemed less than impressed and only blocked my way beyond his reach further. “Bet you sleep with a stuffed animal! Bet you suck on a pacifier!” “Please…” Unlike before, I couldn’t claim I didn’t with either. Yes, Poofin was more of a comfort item than the true definition of a stuffy that he was going for and the pacifier was really thrust on me by others, but I couldn’t exactly say no to either one either. “Ha!” the bully exclaimed, now looking positively elated. “I knew it! Baby! Baby! Baby!” His taunts were childish, but their implications were much tougher to push through. “Am not!” I said, a bit louder than I had before. Quickly, several on the playground looked over at us. Coincidentally, I didn’t find out until later, but a very particular set of eyes landed on me right then as well… and they were not pleased with what they saw unfolding. “Are too!” I don’t think the bully very much cared for my defiance of them. To him, it seemed like everyone here was either a kid or a baby, regardless of ARV or not, and that was it. So, from his perspective, he was getting disrespect from a tiny baby. His ego being likely twice the size he was, it was probably too much. So, in typical bully fashion, he resorted to shoving me. I tried to ignore him, and still seeing myself as the mature one between us, I felt that shoving back just wasn’t an option for me. So, I let him. A second… third… and even fourth time. The fifth though… I felt more of force behind that one, and I stumbled backward. Unfortunately for us both, there just happened to be one of the fake wooden barriers keeping the mulch inside of the playground. Sticking right up and in my path, I didn’t see it, but it stayed right where it was… and tripped me over… right on my butt. My diaper absorbed most of the blow, but I think it was all just a combination of everything that had happened that day. Leaving Linfield and coming home… the inspection… the fear of Amanda and my mom overstepping… ARSED and the possibility of failure and being placed with another family. It was a lot, and now, I was getting picked on by a bully and had just fallen. Maybe it was the start of a new wave of Infasia, or maybe my Infasia was a byproduct. I might never truly know… I just know that I started crying. It wasn’t very loud, but it quickly made a scene amongst the playground people. Not really knowing anyone though, it took a second for a few to flee to go find an ‘adult.’ Clearly, in their eyes at least, I didn’t qualify as one anymore. But right about then, I began to feel the fuzziness in my head. ‘Oh no… not now… please not now…’ But Infasia waited for now begging or pleading. It didn’t care about wants, likes, or conveniences. If it truly was a protective mechanism of the brain, it just knew that I was under attack today and this bully had pushed it just far enough to activate. I began to feel the buzzing sensation I had felt a few times before all over my body. It made me want to giggle, and maybe if I hadn’t landed so hard on my butt, I might have. Maybe if I hadn’t felt the squish in my diaper, I would have. Maybe if the bully and his friends weren’t now laughing at me, I would have. I’m not sure, but I just felt the world quickly slipping away. Before I fully went under though… I heard one last shout. “Hey you! Get away from my…!” And that was it. This time with my bout of Infasia, it wasn’t a complete blackout. It was more like the world was now being viewed through a fogged barrier and that my ears were clogged like being underwater. Time seemed to move fast, and everything became bits and blurs of what it likely really was. Funny smell. Yelling. Laughing. Screaming. More laughing. More yelling. Strange but familiar smells. Cooing. Funny faces or words. A breeze. Laughter. Cuddling. Wetness. Dryness. Warmth. More laughter. It didn’t make much sense, but I just felt relief on the one hand and complete terror the next. I knew things were happening, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Thinking back to Agent Carlyle, his need to ensure a place where I could trust my caregivers and the environment made so much more sense now. If any part of that was dangerous, sure, I could have fought it or resisted normally, but under Infasia…? All that was a pipe dream at best. Like before though, I blinked my eyes and things started to come back to me. A soft but almost plastic feeling underneath me. Light shining in. Sweet smells combined with a floral scent that tickled my nose. Laughter and joy now replacing all my previous fear. First thing I noticed though, was Amanda looking right at me… more specifically, prancing one of her dolls around me. It was a little confusing, but I saw my arm almost move on its own as it pranced around while holding Poofin. It was very strange, but soon, I got control back of my arm and stopped. Amanda frowned but then leaned in and looked deep into my eyes. “Mom!” she yelled behind her. “Petey’s back! Or… I think he is?” I heard a few noises from the kitchen, and soon, my mom was back on the scene and crouching down to look at me. “Pete? You back, sweetie?” “Back? What do you…?” I felt like I was finally bursting forth from being submerged deep underwater for so long. I knew it was Infasia, but even in that state, I couldn’t have identified that word if my life had depended on it. “Oh…” “It’s okay, Pete. You just slipped in at the playground,” my mom explained stroking my shoulder tenderly while looking at me with thoughtful yet concerned eyes. “We stayed for a little bit and then we came back here. Amanda offered to keep you company.” “Yeah… I kind of noticed.” Considering the ‘prancing’ nature of my arm with Poofin when I came to, I could only assume that I had been playing make believe of some kind with her in my stupor back here. It wasn’t the worst, but it stung a little knowing what I had done while under. Most of the time back at Linfield, most of my friends just let me be and ride it out. Here, though, it seemed I wouldn’t be getting quite the same reprieve. Unfortunately, I think my tone seemed to imply that I hated our time together and that I was even offended over what happened between us. So, being who she was, Amanda took off back upstairs. “Shoot. Did I…?” My mom shook her head. “No. You didn’t say anything directly to her while you were under, but I think…” I could sense her hesitancy for likely revealing what had fully happened to me while under. “Go on,” I pressed. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know, but I knew I needed to repair my relationship with Amanda now that I was back home. Seeing this as an opportunity I couldn’t miss, I knew I had to push through my own feelings and find out. “Well… she saw you get pushed over by that bully and ran to your rescue just in the nick of time,” she started to explain. Instantly, I could already feel a pang of guilt. “I think her work with Dr. Smothers got her to the point where she now just wants to be protective of you. So, when she saw you get knocked over, she stepped in and started a little fight with the bully. It wasn’t very long as I got to them before too much happened, but… well, I think she might have turned a corner with you.” “And the dolls and Poofin?” I asked, still holding my fuzzy companion tight in my arms. “Nothing too big,” she noted to my relief. “Just some fun between you two. You were a little sad after we came back here, and I changed your diaper. I think she just wanted you to smile again so she grabbed Poofin and started playing with you.” “Oh…” I then looked over to the stairs and knew what I had to do. “I guess I need to go thank her. I…” I suspected that while Dr. Smothers was effective, there was another factor at play in her change of attitude toward me, but I didn’t want to hear it confirmed. Sighing, I knew I had to ask though. “Do you think it’s because she views me as a baby now?” My mom’s previous comforting smile diminished a little, and through her grimace, she nodded. “Yes… at least a little.” It wasn’t the best news I could have heard all day, but my mind began to click, and soon, I knew I was just going to have to file it under a ‘would you rather’ situation. Others of the type now included diapers instead of wet pants, Poofin rather than terror at night, or a car seat to keep me safe when traveling in the car now. Still, while I wasn’t sure how to fully feel about that notion, other than maybe as a new necessity of my life, having my sister view me as a baby but also ensuring her to play with me and protect me, I knew I had to thank her. So, leaving my mom, I cuddled up Poofin more tightly and began my trek upstairs. I wasn’t sure how our conversation was going to go, but it gave me just enough time to begin processing everything. I was home now and everything had changed. My family and I had passed the ARSED inspection, and we were now clear to live our lives as best we could going forward. And maybe that was what was making me so nervous… the freedom and lack of restriction of everything. It meant that anything was possible now, and that lack of strict control felt scary… but maybe also liberating. After all, under this new life, a completely random encounter today had led Amanda to assume her ‘older’ sister role and even go out of her way to protect and then entertain me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing going forward, but for today, I just knew I had to be thankful for that little change at least.

Hey everyone! There’s about seven chapters left after this one. Looking ahead, I think I should be able to post at least three a week for sure going forward. Looking at my calendar, that should mean with one last chapter over the final weekend, this story should be done by the end of this month. I’ve fleshed everything out and I think it all looks good to be able to hit that goal. If anything changes though, I’ll let you all know. Next, just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 19: Foreboding Signs ‘How long can you hold out before you give in?’ It had been a question passed through the human condition since the dawn of man. How much wind can you withstand before you turn back? How much thirst can you endure before you go mad? How much torture before you let slip your darkest secret? None of it was good, but it was the familiar question younger ARs were asking all over the country now. For me, it was a sobering reality that began to seep into all aspects of my new life. Shrinking and regressing every day, I was losing more and more of who or what I used to be. My mind still remained intact, but I had to question things of where the line was between acceptance and regression. For example, I liked a diaper change. No, it wasn’t the fact that Miss Bea tickled my stomach like she did with my other friends here or the closeness I felt with someone else, but it was more because I was becoming dry once more. And that’s it. Nothing else. Or the stuffed penguin that my mom had given me the other day. At first, I gave him a few cuddles and then stored him away in my cubby in the main room. I could see others eyeing him with envy, but I still didn’t take him out… until a few days ago where I was feeling lonelier than usual. I had been here for over a week, and I was missing not being with my family or other people who were similarly diapered. I cared for my friends, make no mistake about it, but being around them wasn’t always as liberating as it had been with my friends in either Building 2 or 3. So, I gave in and brought him into the crib with me every night since then. He was great, but he wasn’t on the imaginary friend level, like most of the stuffed animals and various toys my friends and every other AR in the daycare cuddled with, however, he was a good sleeping companion. In fact, I started to use him for comfort in a very real way. Trouble sleeping? Give him a hug. Feeling scared about that random noise in the pitch black of the crib room? Squeeze him tight. In fact, I was starting to value him… at least to the point where ‘he’ or ‘him’ as a name just wasn’t going to cut it. So, consulting with my friends a little, the name ‘Poofin’ was selected. Needless to say, for one reason or another, I took to it immediately. Roudning up on almost two weeks here, I also had to reflect on myself in a very real way. Dr. Smothers encouraged it in our little talks throughout the week, and lately, I had to admit a few things to myself. First, it was hard to call myself even a kid anymore… looking nearly identical to the version of me I once saw when I was three years old. I mean, there’s only so long you can resist things on the physical side of all this. Second, I hated my diapers… but now, I had to admit to the fact they were a painful necessity. Sure, I could make it if the stars aligned ever so perfectly, but that too was dropping. Laughing? Stressed out? Tripped? It all led to a sadly soaked diaper. Soon, success with my bladder felt more like luck than an ability or at least the successful utilization of one. Around that same time, I was starting to receive pressure regarding my future in general. In fact, on Thursday of my second week here, Miss Bea and Mr. Collins pulled me aside, eager to discuss it with me. “Now, look, Pete,” Mr. Collins began, adjusting his ‘Head of Building’ placard ever so slightly to align with his desk’s edge, “we’ve been talking with Dr. Smothers, and she feels that you need a path laid out in front of you to go home.” “Makes sense…” I liked it here in some undeniable ways, but I wanted to go home… to be in my own bed and be with my family. ‘Well, almost all of them…’ “That’s good to hear, Pete,” Miss Bea said, smiling in her usual way. “But for that to happen, we need you to be comfortable in your home life.” I could feel my stomach twist, knowing where this was likely heading. “Now, Lucas isn’t always there, but if I recall correctly, he’s never been a real problem.” She wasn’t wrong, so I nodded quickly to confirm her suspicion. Lucas had basically been my sole rock in this place, or at least until recently when my mom stepped back into the picture. Being honest with myself, though, I’m not sure if I would have done as well without him in my life here. “Okay, so that leaves your immediate family,” Miss Bea continued. “Looks like your dad has been staying more on the neutral side of things but has come more out of this stance to support you and form a bridge between you and your mom recently. And speaking of your mom, I take it all that’s gone a lot better since your first meeting with her here?” I nodded again. “Yes, much better.” Since she had come back, we weren’t exactly on the best of terms yet, but we were making progress. We had essentially come to an agreement which boiled down to seeing what I needed versus what she assumed I would need. Diapers were a yes, but something like my old shirt with Teletubbies on it, just… no. “So, that leaves your sister… Amanda,” Mr. Collins jumped in and seemed the most apprehensive about her, and frankly, I couldn’t blame him. “You haven’t seen her since your first day, and seeing Miss Bea’s, Dr. Smother’s, and other’s notes on that event… I would say that’s probably a good thing. Still, before you go home, we need to ensure that there’s at least a peace of some kind between you.” “Peace, sir?” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it seemed complicated, and to be blunt, I didn’t have much faith in Amanda’s six-year-old sensibilities compared to my now three-year-old body and some of its needs. It just felt like a recipe for a repeated disaster. “It’s okay, Pete,” Miss Bea noted, clearly trying to soothe my apparently visible nerves when it came to my sister. “She has been receiving counseling to curb some of her natural impulses and tendencies. Essentially, we want to get her to a point where she understands the new you and more importantly, what that entails for her new role.” “Oh?” I still had my doubts, and I knew now was the time to voice them. “I just want to say for the record that I don’t think any of that is going to help us one bit. She’s the ‘older’ sister now. If she was maybe eight or nine, I could see her remembering that I was an adult, but… how much longer until she barely remembers that I used to be over six times her age just a year ago?” “I don’t know, Pete,” Mr. Collins admitted with a sigh. “Things may never be perfect between you, but you can’t stay here forever. You either need to ensure you’re okay around each other… or you need to find a new place to stay… and new caregivers.” That instantly put a knot in my stomach. Sure, getting placed with other caregivers who were essentially strangers could work out… but it might not either. It was a risk, and hearing about some of the stories around the daycare here, it was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. “No… I don’t want that.” “Very well…” I could see a little apprehension in Mr. Collin’s face, but maybe some relief for me as well. Being the head of Building 4, he probably knew the full depth of just how bad things could go finding another caregiver for me. Yes, there was an extensive vetting process, but sometimes, when times get sketchy, mentally speaking that is, for us ARs, they weren’t always the best option. “Let’s get you scheduled to meet up with her… oh, let’s see…” His eyes then flicked over to a calendar behind him. “Let’s say… sometime this week.” Feeling the weight of such a potentially problematic meeting, I could only nod in fear over what might come. Looking over at Miss Bea, she was staying silent herself, but I could see a nervous energy humming all about her as well. A few days later, it was determined that Saturday would be the best scenario for everyone involved. Amanda needed to be out of her preschool, our mom needed to be free from any of her obligations during the week, and Dr. Smothers needed to be there as well to monitor everything. And while she didn’t need to be there, Miss Bea volunteered to work that day and provide support for me as well. Smiling back at her, I felt a little comfort as I saw both my mom and Amanda approach Dr. Smothers, Miss Bea, and I just as the sun began to creep over the peak of Building 1’s roof. The introductions were brief and to the point. This whole thing was about Amanda and me really, so once a few ground rules had been laid down, it was up to us to carry on with the conversation. “Hello Amanda…” She seemed more interested in a pebble at her foot right then, so I felt I needed to start things off. After a moment of her still staring at the pebble, Dr. Smothers spoke up. “Amanda… what we talked about, remember?” I was wondering who her counselor was, and while I knew Dr. Smothers was capable, it didn’t put my nerves at ease in the slightest. She nodded and turned back towards me. “Hello, Petey…” She stopped for another moment until Dr. Smothers cleared her throat. “Oh… wight. “I’m sowwy, Petey, foh’ tweating you like a baby the last time I saw you. That was vewy wong of me…” It felt scripted, like she had been practicing those exact words that she had been informed to recite to me. I could even see Dr. Smothers mouth along with each of them, and while part of me wanted to doubt the sincerity, I knew that counselors might often script the dialogue if one of the party members is unsure of what to say… or if they are worried what the speaker could say without any prompt. Knowing my sister like I did, I wasn’t sure which one it was, but the words were still nice to hear. “Thank you, Amanda,” I responded. “I really hope you do feel that way. Your words before… they hurt me. And I’m not sure if you did that on purpose, but it hurt me in a way I didn’t think I could be from you.” “I said I was sowwy…” This time, there was a little less truth in her words. Dr. Smothers probably heard it too and cleared her throat again. “But I heaw you and I will wemembuh’ to tweat you like nothing has changed between us.” I saw her eyes dart down to my shorts, this pair not doing much to conceal my diaper bulge unfortunately. I had requested a different pair, but Miss Josie told me that they had upped the thickness slightly in my diapers and that I might need to get used to the sight from now on. It was a terrible day to be told that, and Amanda’s eye flash to them didn’t help matters, but I knew I needed to stay focused on the task at hand. So, with a few more gentle prods from Miss Bea, our mom, and principally, Dr. Smothers, Amanda and I began to at least attempt to fix the tears between us. I could still sense her immaturity in the situation and her insincerity in others, but I knew it was a start. “Very good, Amanda,” Dr. Smothers praised. “Now, if you’re both willing… maybe a hug?” Neither of us moved an inch. “It might help break through some of the residual hesitations you both seem to still be having.” It was a terrible suggestion of a potential solution to our problems, and I think everyone involved knew it except for Dr. Smothers. I did understand she was good in her own ways, but I found her to be pushy and forceful when a soft touch seemed to be needed instead. But she was guiding us through all this, and I also knew that eventually, Amanda and I would need to be able to get along. I wasn’t going with another family or caregiver, so living with her for the next few years at least was going to be in the cards. Thinking it was now or never; I opened my arms to her. “What do you think, sis?” I could see her hesitation, likely believing that doing something like this might have truly acknowledged she was in the wrong, which I honestly think she didn’t really think at that point. Still, she nodded and came up to me before embracing me closely. Unfortunately, with a little time since I last saw her, it was very obvious that I was now the ‘younger’ sibling… at least physically. “Aww, would you look at that?” Dr. Smothers cooed. “Isn’t that adorable?” Miss Bea didn’t gush completely, but I could see the growing smile on my mom’s face. Looking at her two kids, I could tell right away that she heartily agreed. “Oh! Just wait right there. Let me get a picture of this!” I internally groaned but held with Amanda while she fished for her phone to take a photo of us. Never one to shy away from the camera, I could feel Amanda lean into me and squeeze me tighter. Being a little bigger than me now, I felt suffocated and quickly out of breath. Pausing in her barrage of photos, our mom stopped and looked at Amanda. “Amanda, sweetie… gentle… Please be gentle with your brother.” Before she could comply, next, it was Dr. Smothers turn to speak up. “Very good, Amanda. Just remember what we talked about. Gentle words and even gentler touches.” I could hear a little groan escape her lips, but gratefully, she complied, and I could feel life return to my previously crushed lungs. “Like dis?” She smiled widely and I could tell it was the same look I saw her give dozens of times before whenever she was trying to cozy up to anyone and eventually be told that she was a good girl. “Very good,” Dr. Smothers praised. And that should have been the end of it. A little congratulatory bit of wording to her, we would let go of each other, and we would move on. There was still some work to do, but it was a good first step today. Instead, though, a little of the original recipe Amanda slipped out. “Yay!” She gave me a light squeeze. “Aren’t I just duh best biggest sistuh’ evuh’?” It was so small. Even I could acknowledge that, but I guess an AR brain is extra sensitive to all sorts of things. A few tears over a scraped knee or the joy and euphoria for being praised that you made it on time to the potty to go number two. Small, but significant to a weakened by time mind. No one could stay strong living the life of a toddler forever, and maybe that was it, but I felt a wave of dizziness overtake me. Partially collapsing in Amanda’s arms, everyone rushed to grab me. “Pete!” My mom seemed to panic the most and pulled me away from my sister in a hurry, worry encapsulating her whole face now. I could feel a heat build in my head and a heaviness around my limbs. It was funny and scary all at the same time. It felt good but like I was losing all control in a matter of seconds; like the operator in my brain had suddenly taken a holiday. I felt a strange gurgling from my stomach and a fuzziness in my fingers. “Pete? Pete?” Dr. Smothers kneeled down to my smaller form, now being held by my mom. To the side, Miss Bea pulled Amanda away, both completely speechless. “Can you hear me, Pete? Say something… anything.” “Yeah… Doctuh Smothuss…” I slurred. “Why you aww so scawed wookin’?” I could hear I sounded, but there was a part of me that just didn’t care… even when everyone looked like I had just spouted another language or fifty curse words in a single breath. But for whatever reason, I didn’t care. It was like slipping into a warm bath. If the water over my head… problem, but otherwise relaxing. It was like placing a veil over my eyes and hearing the fifth symphony on in the background. Everything seemed to be going on around me, but I was only experiencing it now through a limited amount of my senses. It was like going on vacation where you had a little stress in the beginning but then you were all smiling by the end. Maybe I should have been more worried. Maybe I should have been concerned, or I should have been freaked out right then and there. On one hand I was confused as to what was happening to me… at least completely. Control was slipping from my very fingers and from my mind. That should have terrified me like nothing else had before, but strangely, I was okay with it. For some odd reason, despite my confusion, there was another part of me that knew with perfect clarity what was happening to me, but all that was buried, inaccessible, or just didn’t matter enough for my head to completely register it. I had seen it with my friends’ countless times before, and now, I knew it was happening to me as well… that nameless horror of being an AR at this age. Truly, I knew it was only a matter of time, and there was a part of me that wished I could have beaten the curve and put it off forever, but another part of me was glad that it had finally happened, even when I felt a strange sensation around my backside now. Now that all that warmth and fuzziness was encapsulating my whole body, I knew I should be scared, but I could only feel relief that it finally had occurred. Now, it was only a matter of getting used to everything and just hoping that I would stop regressing before it was too late for me to still maintain at least a little part of my adult mind. With everything I had heard, maybe that wasn’t rational, but I suppose with everything going on, it was the tiny sliver of hope I still had working for me and that I was still clinging to in this fun, safe, but still prevalent madhouse of Linfield Building 4. And right then, I just lost track of everything. It wasn’t a blackout per say, but there was a definite moment where I blinked my eyes and reawakened. Looking around me, it didn’t take me long to realize that I was in a crib in the sleeping room, and that Miss Josie was seated nearby. As soon as I stirred, her eyes directed towards me. “Wha… what happened?” “Oh, thank goodness you’re awake,” she said quickly, rising out of her seat and coming over to check on me. “We all got so worried when you didn’t just snap out of it after a little bit.” “Snap out of what?” I asked, though likely already knowing the answer. At that point, I really just needed to hear someone else say it than my paranoid mind screaming and just assuming it. “Uh…” I could see that Miss Josie was uncomfortable being the one to officially break the news to me. “Just… wait right here. Dr. Smothers should be the one to tell you and she just left here. She should be nearby. So… just wait, okay?” I sighed but still nodded. “Okay…” With that, Miss Josie ran out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. It was an odd sensation, waking up like that, clearly not in the same place that I last remembered. Checking my diaper, I could tell it was a little damp, but nothing disastrous. Considering that it had been a little damp when I lost consciousness or whatever before, I knew that I must have been changed at some point. Another oddity though, was my thumb. It felt sensitive and the skin looked oddly wrinkled. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Dr. Smothers, Miss Bea, and Miss Josie entering disrupted my curiosity. “Tell me the truth…” I begged as Dr. Smothers and the others neared my crib. “Please…” Nodding, she quickly dropped the rail of my crib and sat in the chair before scooting closer to me. “Peter… I… well, there’s just no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to do it quick.” I felt a knot in my stomach for the moment of truth, but now it was my turn to nod along. “Okay… well, you suffered an incident of Infasia.” I knew that somewhere deep down, but there was a wide gulf between assuming the worst and hearing that it had actually happened to you. I was truly hoping to put it off forever, but hearing it out loud now, I knew that was no longer going to be the case. “Oh…” was about all I could say at first. I wanted to know so much, but I knew I had to ask another obvious question. “What… what triggered it? Or was it just random?” Miss Bea sighed and looked uncomfortable for some reason before Dr. Smothers continued. “We’re not entirely sure, Pete. There could be a lot of reasons…” I then squinted my eyes to convey that I was in no mood for a round of games with her now. “But we think it was brought on by stress… by Amanda, or at least her comment.” “Oh… I see…” I knew things weren’t ideal between us, but bringing on my first official bout of Infasia was not something I would have ever guessed. “Your Infasia might have been inevitable… it’s hard to know for sure,” Dr. Smothers continued. “But we’ll continue to monitor your progress and see what happens next.” “And offer all the support you need to cope,” Miss Bea quickly jumped in. “We’ll help you cope with her presence more, but…” “But,” Dr. Smothers said quickly, retaking the lead, “this might just be the beginning. Your Infasia might just get stronger from here on out or this might just be it and hit occasionally. It’s just hard to know right now…” From there, I was induced into a mandatory session with Dr. Smothers every day. It most just served as a check-in until I went back home to ensure that I was okay and coping with everything properly… or at least as best I could. Amanda was still a situation that was a ‘work in progress’ as she called it, but for the elements we could control, it seemed everyone was doing everything in their power to ensure they would. Firmly settled into the notion that I now needed Building 4, I saw that Ian was still a bit of a problem, though as the days had progressed, I was noticing that he didn’t seem to always get his way anymore. I wanted to end the problem without question, but first, now that this place was my home and my sanctuary, I knew I needed to make it safe once more. It might have been completely foolish or even stupid, but I knew I had to deal with the rat in my friend group. So, I started asking questions. It was hard to know what to ask for specifically, and I think at one point, both Harriet and Frank got a little upset with me over questioning them to the third degree. Of course, not knowing who the rat was, I couldn’t be sure that either was safe. As such, my existence was a little lonely there for about a solid week… at least until I cleared Jeremy. He was simply too new here and he seemed to dislike the staff here… not his fellow ARs. “Wow, I can’t believe you came to the same conclusion,” he remarked after I brought him in on my theory about the rat. “I’ve suspected a rat around this place since I stepped through those doors, but… our friend group? That’s just…” Yeah… it sucks,” I conceded. “I just have no idea how I’m going to find them with everyone not even mentally being here all the time. Plus… with my own… I just don’t know how long I continue.” “Well, maybe have a little faith then.” I might have just chalked it up to a simple platitude in trying to get me to smile again, but I saw my friend’s eyes. Deep, curious, and knowledgeable. I could tell he knew more than he was letting on. “I tried to do my own investigation, but it’s just so hard sometimes.” He looked immensely glum right then, but quickly going to grab his backpack from his cubby, he unzipped one of the pouches and reached deep down before yanking out an index card. Sorry for the handwriting, but…” He then gave me the card and looked around before putting everything back like he had found it. Squinting at the card, I couldn’t believe what I saw. “Yeah… that’s what I felt like too a few weeks back. Never could make much of it, but… it could explain a lot…” I nodded and looked back at the card now in my hands. “I just… I can’t believe that you suspect the rat to be the very same person as the one in this place who was part of the ’87 terrorist group. How do you know?” “Well, a lot of the other groups around here are just full of long-time ARs. Before they checked out… with Infasia and all or whatever else, I found out that there had been a leak from this place to the ’87 group in the past few months,” he explained. “It was a small breach, but people like Agent Brooks were all over it.” “You mean that asshole from ARSED?” I questioned, bitterly remembering him calling me ‘baby’ multiple times when I first met him. Needless to say, he hadn’t left the best of impressions on me. Smirking, Jeremy nodded. “Yep! That’s the one. Apparently, he used to be a really good agent but just got too bitter after a while on the job and dealing with us and all. Fortunately, the rest of ARSED around here tend to be pretty nice and understanding.” Jeremy then shook his head and pointed to the index card again. “Anyways… the group reached out from here, so they still need to be mentally competent enough to do it. That eliminates at least 80% of the ARs here. So, I say if you… we continue this whole thing, we think of them as one.” It wasn’t the best practice, but I saw his logic. The person we were looking for had to be here for long enough, one of the reasons I had eliminated Jeremy as a suspect after hearing something similar happened to Julia last month in my questions to her. They also needed to be mentally with it for at least part of the day. I could have extended my search to those that had been before I got here, but that only gained me one suspect… one that I quickly eliminated after they spouted how much they would like to ‘get in a room with the rat and dance… with a sharp object.’ It was good progress, but I knew that I would need to do even more digging… hopefully before I went completely under with Infasia. But life kept moving forward at Linfield. Using a slow and methodical approach, Amanda was brought here every other day, and while my Infasia worsened under her presence, I noticed it wasn’t as bad as it used to be in the beginning as well. Still, under Dr. Smothers’ watchful eye, she insisted I continue to attend weekly group sessions after hours with her and other members from Building 4 as well on Wednesdays. With the other groups in the depths of Infasia, it was really just my group and a few others. Already being informed from the start, those who presented with Infasia on a more permanent basis, there was another after hours meeting for them… although, seeing it on Thursday from afar, I saw that it was technically more a group for caregivers at that point. Still, sitting around, I saw each member with their own caregivers. For today, I saw several highlights. Starting on my left, I saw Jeremy with his assigned caregiver, Yasmine, Julia with her sister Samantha, Frank with his older sister Tawnya, and Luna with Daphne, though no one really could say how they were related. Harriet suspected members of the same hippy commune, Frank suspected sisters, and Jeremy thought they were former sister wives. Regardless, they didn’t distract me from the other most prominent member of the group… the oddly quiet Ian with his younger sister and now caregiver, Polly. “Thank you for inviting me here again, Pete,” my mom whispered to me as Dr. Smothers began to go over the rules once more. “No problem. It’s actually good that you’re here as well,” I admitted. “Let’s you see us ARs in a different light maybe.” I had gone to the first Wednesday session with Lucas, but after our breakthrough later that first week, I had invited my mom instead. Considering how much she learned last week; I was glad I took that chance. “Now, then,” Dr. Smothers began, “who would like to start off this week. Did anything happen at home that anyone would maybe like to share with the group?” With me not going home, I rarely raised my hand… at least when I didn’t want to talk about my mom the first week or Amanda last week. Almost as soon as Dr. Smother had finished asking, Luna shot her hand up in the air, eliciting a few snickers from around the room. “Everyone…” It was a clear warning from Dr. Smothers to behave when it was sharing time and to extend a safe and non-judgmental welcome to everyone here… no matter how silly or embarrassing things got. “Now then… Luna. Go ahead, honey.” Luna nodded and hopped out of her chair, her short green dress billowing up just enough to flash just the bottom of her diaper. Observing her a lot, especially as one of my potential rats, I had noticed that even when she wasn’t in the midst of Infasia, she no longer cared over the notion of others seeing her diaper… no matter its condition. “Well, well…” She then shot an angry glance over at Daphne. “She’s not lettin’ me wander around the backyard by myself anymo’!” Part of the group groaned while the other part gasped. It was easy to see what mental state those who gasped were in. “I see…” Dr. Smothers wrote a few notes on her large yellow notepad. I would give anything to see that thing… likely being able to discover the rat in seconds. But I wasn’t that type of person, so I kept my hands off. “Hmmm… and Daphne? Do you have anything to say on your behalf?” “Well,” Daphne shifted uncomfortably in her seat as everyone began to stare at her intently. “It’s just… our house backs up to the woods and we don’t have a fence. With Luna… well, with her popping in and out of Infasia at random now, I just worry about her safety.” “I do the same,” Tawnya admitted, Frank too busy with his stuffed animal tonight to care. “It’s just not safe out there for him to be running around now.” “But what about when he’s fine?” my mom questioned. “Surely you can give him a little freedom?” Tawnya shook her head. “No… too unpredictable when something like that will occur.” She then turned back to Dr. Smothers. “Right, doctor?” It was clear she was looking for validation in the same way that Daphne was looking for forgiveness or her own validation as well. Dr. Smothers sighed. “Well, I would say that in a perfect world, we can accommodate both. But as I’m sure everyone here knows, it’s not perfect. Safety needs to take priority over wants sometimes.” Luna instantly crossed her arms and huffed. “I’m sorry, Luna,” Daphne then directed toward her. “The other day, Infasia took hold of you while I was doing the laundry. I left you alone like I normally have done forever now, but you popped into a state of Infasia and wandered off. It was only when I went to check on you that I heard you crying. I ran to find you and… you had fallen and skinned your knee.” It was then that I noticed a series of band-aids covering her legs and one large covering over her right knee. “Buh’ iss so unfaiw’!” she complained, already sinking into another bout of Infasia. I could spot hers from a mile away now. More introverted in some ways and yet more uncaring and free in others. Slurred speech was definitely a hallmark, and chances are, if she flashed her diaper again, I strongly suspected it would have been used. “It is, Luna,” Dr. Smothers conceded. “But sometimes, you need to let a little go. One thing to consider is to erect a fence… or get a smaller one… like a playpen if it’s the outdoors she wants. Compromise… compromise is the way forward everyone.” Everyone in the group nodded, and I saw it quickly becoming her mantra, but I was still stuck on the whole suggestion of using a playpen. For Luna though, she was already diving headfirst back into a state of Infasia. “Okay… anyone else?” Dr. Smothers asked, clearly keen to move on and seeing Luna was in her own little world now. Next, a few others from other groups asked questions ranging from food to entertainment selections in life. Everything was about compromise, but the room soon fell silent when Julia tentatively raised her hand for her own question of comment. “Dr. Smothers… I heard somewhere, doctors and scientists now believe that ARV could be permanent… is that true.” All at once, all eyes shot back to Dr. Smothers while another knot formed instantly in my stomach. Dr. Smothers set her notepad down and shook her head. “No, Julia. That’s an excellent question, but from the latest studies, other doctors and scientists feel strongly that the regressed ARV state isn’t permanent.” “So, where’s the ‘but’?” I asked bluntly, seeing the relief on most people’s faces. Being attuned and with Amanda not here flaring up my Infasia, I could tell something was weighing heavily on Dr. Smothers’s mind. She then sighed and tilted her head in my direction. “Yes, Pete. There is a ‘but’ to all this. While regressed states aren’t permanent, there is a notion that those below… well, bellow a certain age level are at least temporarily stuck at their bounced ages. For most… it’s those below puberty.” It was the truth, but part of me regretted asking the question in the first place. Like an anchor plunging into the sea, the truth seemed to drag us all down with it. Speaking from my own perspective, there was a difference of regressing when you knew you could be out of it relatively soon. With some getting ‘stuck’ though, all that practically seemed to go out the window. I mean, I had been less than five years old for less than a month now and I was already driving myself up a wall with the prospect of growing up all the way through everything I just regressed by. Now, even that seemed to be a hope slipping through my fingers. “But for now… I don’t want you to worry about that,” Dr. Smothers said calmly while also frantically looking at each of us in panic for opening a can of proverbial worms. “Just know that while some of you could be stuck at your current bounce ages for longer than normal, we do know that’s there’s at least a possibility of you all growing back up. Medically speaking at least, is possible.” “And what if we can’t wait?” Ian asked solemnly. For nearly the whole session now, it had been purely bummed-out central for him. Now, he seemed frustrated and almost… well, genuinely worried. Dr. Smothers shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “We talked about this, Ian… you need to use some patience in this matter. These things take time to understand, and with many cases, most caregivers tend to opt not to have their charges subjected to scientific study after a certain point.” “Well, that’s easy for you to say…” There was a little venom in his voice, but again, I could hear his worry. Despite looking like only a shell of the former bully, boxer, and enforcer, he used to be, it was hard to miss his little inflections or the cracking of knuckles. He was putting on a good front, but it was starting to become clear that was all it was… particularly as he continued to share. “I couldn’t even get the lid off the stupid peanut butter jar the other day! I used to be able to knock a guy out in a single punch! Now, I’m having trouble with even the most basic tasks. A stupid little thing like a fu…” “I’m so sorry, Dr. Smothers,” Polly said, quickly jumping in and gripping Ian tight, stopping him cold before he could complete what was clearly about to be a curse word. It was almost strange to see how much influence of him she had. Ian, the height of terror basically at Linfield seemed so much smaller now. “I came into help him, but as you can see… I can’t do much about his anger problem.” “I understand, Polly. Maybe it’s something we can work on together out of this session,” Dr. Smothers suggested. “I know these things can be a challenge to cope with and that’s why this group exists in the first place. Sometimes we all need to vent, but…” She then looked over at Ian with a disapproving look, “I do appreciate you stepping in before things got nasty. Because what do we say everyone?” “If you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say it at all,” we all repeated, sending a bit of a shiver up my spine. For those that could say it, it felt childish and way too automatic for my liking. Being in a place full of bitter or emotionally unstable individuals, Miss Bea had worked tirelessly with the other group leaders to establish several rules of the daycare. The not saying bit of something nice to others was right at the top of the priority list. “Still,” she said, her smile returning now, “I want you all to feel this is a safe place. Feeling of loss and helplessness are frustrating, I know, but it’s okay to feel them. Just like if you need to cry, letting your feelings out more will help you all cope with what is happening to each of you. ARV is complicated and often cruel, so, please… use these meetings to continue to process your feelings instead of bottling them up.” It was all pretty basic stuff, and I wasn’t truly learning anything new here, but I guess that also wasn’t the point either. ARs needed a bit of relief and in an environment that didn’t allow you to escape your new life… just because it affected every part of it, so these sessions were critical. I was nearly confident in the notion that if they didn’t exist, not a single one of us would still be coherent enough to talk about it. All that being said though, I did learn one thing: Ian was vulnerable. And yes, while I could mean that in a way that I had finally found a way to take him down once and for all, today, I began to see that it wasn’t necessary anymore. And yes, before anyone throws accusations that it was my newly acquired Infasia acting up, one only had to look at Ian to know why. I mean, yes, I could have taken him down and been done with him permanently in five seconds now. He had weaknesses by the dozens now I could exploit, and I could see him on the verge of breaking. But that was the point. Ian wasn’t the man that everyone had once feared. Maybe it was a little my fault for pushing him over the edge before with the bees in Building 3, but now, when I looked at him, I just saw the same thing I saw in the rest of us. A toddler with the mind of an adult, and a person who was just trying to make it through all this. Yes, his temper was still bad, and yes, I still knew he was trying to exploit others… but the peanut butter. It was such a simple story, and I was no weightlifting champion or anything, but it’s hard to fear someone with that sort of problem in their life. No minions, no strength… nothing except for Polly by his side, and she was only there to change his diapers and soothe his fears. I made a mental note to keep an eye on him and talk to Jeremy periodically to ensure we kept him on a tight leash around here, but the more I saw of him in the session today, the more I saw a person who had lost nearly all of their power and was just as weak and helpless as the rest of us. It was a sobering fact of reality like most other facets of this new life of ours, but as much as I wanted to judge him harshly, I knew I couldn’t. Looking at my own life, now that I had Infasia. Pondering that a lot lately, I had one question to ask myself; how much longer until I lose my own grip on this world and fully succumb? Looking around the room at my friends, several of whom now likely had wet diapers and seemed to be playing or burning themselves without their toys or stuffed animals, I knew it was now just a matter of when and not if.

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay and being later than I originally anticipated with this chapter. It was an absolutely amazing weekend away, but an early flight out Saturday morning, daylight savings time, walking over 50,000 steps in two days, and a delayed flight that didn’t get me home until almost 2 in the morning… it’s hard to write and edit anything, let alone a whole other chapter here. I think my last chapter showed that sometimes, forcing an edit into the late hours isn’t for the best. It’s also not as fun, and that’s never a good thing to mess around with. Hopefully, none of you were waiting too hard on pins and needles for this next chapter. Also, keeping on the same track here, I just wanted to note that I tell you all these things not as excuses, but more as an attempt to try to explain why there might be more prolonged periods between chapters with my stories now than in the past. Delays aren’t always caused by something fun unfortunately, but I thought since most of you seem invested in the story, you all at least deserve an explanation. If that assumption is wrong, just let me know and I can stop. I promise, there are no hard feelings, and I won’t take it personally. Next, just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 18: Confrontations With Those That Care It was hard to know where to stand with Building 4 some days… Some days were filled with warmth and laughter. It was a sanctuary away from my troubled relationship with my sister and our parents. There was never a dull moment, and with the reading material on the shelves and the various activities the attendants brought in for us to do, any fears of this place soon began to fade. Further, my new and old friends here occupied my time nicely during the day and at night, Miss Josie or Miss Bea would always comfort me to sleep. Both had become a rock which I could lean on… especially as I continued to dwindle in my regressive state. I felt my mind hold tight, but I could feel the occasional crack bur its way through. I hated myself for those moments, but the more comforted I was and saw just how much Infasia could affect someone, I knew I was definitely beating the curve around here. Clocking in solidly around the younger end of four years old, my body on the physical front wasn’t doing me any favors, but my mind still seemed intact enough to be able to work around most of them. Trouble holding objects? Go slower and think through each action in scrutinizing detail. Can’t run as fast or as far? Do what you can where you can and don’t be afraid to be carried if absolutely needed… especially if it’s an emergency situation. Trouble making it to the potty? Give up a little dignity and always make sure your shoes are tight to be able to run up quickly to any attendant and ask for assistance and if they ask if you want to be carried to the potty, always say yes. Still, I could tell my resistance was only going to do so much for so long. Infasia in some form was just a forgone conclusion in Building 4… aka, the nursery and daycare of Linfield. News stories had clearly glossed over the notion of Infasia being a universal part of the lower end of the age spectrum, but as my first week came to a close here, I began to suspect that it might have been done on purpose so as not to insight a riot. After all, if everyone knew just how bad it could get on the lower end, cases like Ned or Bradley threatening themselves or others would likely be a whole lot more common from just fear alone. But through all that, knowledge was power, and I still didn’t know my full diagnosis. Pressed on by my family from a distance, using Lucas as their intermediary for now, and my own protests, Miss Bea and Gina finally pushed through to Principal Warton and Dr. Smothers that I needed a more conclusive diagnosis. Under three was tough, but that range left a lot to be desired as well. Seeing my friends each day, the abilities of someone like Frank at less than 16 months were massively different than someone like Jeremy who was still somewhere around the high end of two or the lower end of three years old. “Good to see you as usual, Pete,” Gina said warmly as Miss Bea guided me into her office on Friday afternoon, right around the time the rest of the student body as taking their evaluations. It was a small caveat, but I was glad to be rid of those things now. “Why don’t you take a seat up here on the exam table, so I can give you a quick exam and then we can get ready?” Standing next to Miss Bea and now firmly in the room, I could only look up at the now high exam table. It wasn’t an unusual height, clocking barely above my waist when I first came here, but now… it was quite a bit above my head. Likely noticing my pause and failure to get up there, Gina smacked her forehead lightly. “Oh! Silly me. I guess you need a hand up here, huh?” “Might be nice…” I smiled at her to show her that I had no hard feelings of being so short. There was not a darn thing I could do about it at this point, so I didn’t want to waste any energy crying over something that would only change with a cure or time now… and both would take a great deal of patience. Gina then leaned down and reached out to me before suddenly stopping. Having been in this situation countless times now, I knew what she was thinking. “It’s okay, Gina. You can pick me up to get me up there. Unless you have a ladder for me to climb, but that would take more time. It’s just easier for you to do it.” Nodding with a look of relief, Gina placed her hands under my armpits and lifted me up, setting me down near the ledge where just my ankles were leaning out over the drop off below. With me in place, Gina didn’t waste any time checking my vitals. Right as she was taking my blood pressure, she turned to me. “You know… you’re taking all this very well…” “And that’s a bad thing?” I questioned. “No, no!” Gina momentarily panicked, probably worrying that she had just triggered something in me. “I just… I see a lot of ARs here, Pete. Most are… well, they have Infasia, or they want to punch me. You…” I held up my arm not being used in taking my blood pressure. “I’m not just accepting of all this because I don’t know any different. I haven’t lost my mind. It’s just more… I know that stress makes all this worse, so I’m trying to regulate myself as much as possible now. That’s meant a lot of relaxation and a refusal to see my family right now, but I think it’s working. I’m not, well… you know.” Gina smiled and nodded. “It’s just putting it off,” Dr. Smothers quickly noted, now standing in the doorway. “We’ve talked about this, Pete. You need a support structure on the outside, and your family is willing to take you in. Don’t sour that relationship because of one thing that they di…” “But it was a big thing, Dr. Smothers,” I interrupted, explaining my reasoning for at least the fourth time since I initially rejected them my first day in Building 4. Dr. Smothers had confronted me about it every day since. “They lied to me, and yes, I know you encouraged them to do it… I just need time, okay? Is that so much to ask for? I just need time to…” “Pete!” Gina said loudly, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Please. I need to do your vitals this time for our records. Your blood pressure is sky rocketing.” She then turned around to Dr. Smothers. “And doctor, I respect your position here, but this is my clinic. You stay in here, and you either provide comfort or you get out.” “I’ll provide comfort,” Miss Bea said boldly, stepping closer to me now. “She can go.” Dr. Smothers huffed and promptly left the room. Smiling down at me, I could only smile back at Miss Bea as I tried to calm myself down. I didn’t notice it at first, but as the week continued, I saw that any casual observer of Building 4 saw that Miss Bea and Dr. Smothers were almost like rivals around here. I think it stemmed from the notion that Miss Bea felt that Dr. Smothers could have done a better job with us ARs. Ned, Bradley, Harriet, and so many others had gotten pushed to the brink of a complete breakdown and had thus blown beyond their initial bounce age. Essentially, Miss Bea was cleaning up after Dr. Smothers, whom she clearly felt lacked in her position here, either purposefully ignorant of the problems or as more of an administrator that was too bound by the rules to be an effective counselor to us. I wasn’t sure which was more accurate, but for today, I was just glad that Miss Bea was on my side. Looking over at the needle, I knew that I needed that offered comfort. Even though I knew Dr. Smothers was correct about my family, today was not the day to dig up that problem. Today, I was dealing with my sudden fear of a giant needle getting ready to be shot in my arm. “Squeeze my hand, Pete,” Miss Bea pressed, offering her hand in support. “It might be really scary, but it will be over in a flash, okay? I promise.” I wasn’t sure why I was so fearful of that needle, seeing them plenty of times before, but I just wanted to crawl out of my skin. Oddly, I wanted something… someone… anything to comfort me. So, seeing the offered hand, I quickly took it. “Okay, Pete…” Gina said, aiming the needle for my now tiny arm. “This is it. Squeeze Miss Bea’s hand all you want, and don’t be afraid to cry here. I promise… neither of us is going to judge you.” “Just do it… quick, please,” I begged, wincing away from the sharp object about to penetrate my skin. Nodding, Gina made quick work of the stick. It was painful, and though not as painful as my mind was trying to get me to believe, I still didn’t like it and quickly squeezed Miss Bea’s hand. “Easy, Pete. You got this. Just a little sting, and soon, we’ll know your bounce age for sure.” Miss Bea was right, and Gina soon had the requisite blood for the test. I would know by tomorrow of my new age, but for now, I just pulled into the hug offered by Miss Bea. More and more now, I was leaning on her for both guidance and care of my well-being. In another life, I think I would have rather death or an instant plunge into the lower rungs of AR ages, but in many ways, I was living a whole new life these days, and now, I wanted… needed that hug. The next day, I huddled about with my friends. Luna was carefully examining a nearby sunflower while Frank was looking at worms in the ground, perilously close to tipping over into another bout of Infasia. Julia was dancing around with Harriet, and Jeremy and I were debating which person from Building 3 was coming here next based on the little we saw through the fence and hedges over into their back area. Occasionally, we saw glimpses of Dylan, Sammy, and Phil, but they might as well have been on another planet at that point. Soon, I saw Dr. Smothers, Gina, and Miss Bea approaching me hesitantly. I could already tell on their faces that the news wasn’t great. “Just tell me…” Gina sighed. “Well, we’ve been through this before, so I’ll just give it to you straight, okay?” I nodded my head and saw a reservation and dislike in Dr. Smothers’ face. I had to imagine that she didn’t like this plan at all, but I remained strong and kept nodding my head. “Okay then…” She flipped a few stapled pages back and forth, like she had to confirm my diagnosis once again. I wondered how many had been told the wrong number… “It’s hard to estimate an exact age range when you get into a matter of months… but you’ll likely end up somewhere between a year and a half to two years old.” ‘At least she didn’t say newborn…’ Hearing the news, I kept repeating that to myself whenever I suddenly wanted to burst into tears. There were specific markers apparently for being a newborn, so I was glad that I hadn’t hit that mark, but still… looking around at my friends, I could barely believe it, but I was going to fit right in with their ages… which also meant an almost guarantee to be heavily affected in some way by Infasia. At that age, almost like a coping mechanism, most scientists had noted that deep Infasia was likely and could even become something of a permanent state. “It’s going to be okay, Pete…” Dr. Smothers tried to comfort me afterward. “You just need some time, but you’ve got some great people to help you out here.” “And we’ll be with you every step of the way, Pete,” Miss Bea confirmed. Strangely, while Miss Bea was only furthering what Dr. Smothers had said, I appreciated her wording and gestures towards me much more. Dr. Smothers was still competent in her job but maybe owing to the fact that she had to deal with every student here or something of the sort, her approach just felt more clinical… rehearsed. Likely having done this hundreds of times by now, her wording contrasted greatly to the genuinely kind and caring ones of Miss Bea. “Come on, doctor…” Miss Bea coaxed as she began to gently push Dr. Smothers away. “Let’s give Pete some time alone… or at least without us bothering him anymore. I’m sure he has a lot to think about.” Dr. Smothers was clearly about to protest, but a stern glare from Miss Bea and a little more forceful pushing this time got her to relent and leave me alone with my friends. “You okay, bud?” Jeremy asked, his own Infasia gratefully being held at bay for the moment. “I…” I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly in and out. His question was fair, but I think it was also fair that I didn’t really have an answer for him. “I just… I don’t know…” “Yeah…” Jeremy sighed and looked wistfully back to the other side of the gate separating us from our form home, Building 3. “I remember when I was told. I almost ran away that same day… it was before all… this…” His hands gestured to all his body, but I knew what he meant. The diapers, the teddy bear romper and even his diminutive state and pudgy limbs were exhibitions of what ARV could do to anyone. Being a little ahead of me on the downward spiral as well, he also seemed like a terrible and fear-inducing signpost up ahead of what I was soon to expect as well. “So, why didn’t you?” I’m not going to be all bold and brave and say that running away or just ending it all had never crossed my mind. If any AR said that, they would have been an outright liar. Some embraced their new lifestyle and bodies… an opportunity of a second chance, if you will. But everyone… and I mean everyone, had thought about not accepting their fate and either trying to end it or at least run from it. Especially here in Building 4, I now knew there was a reason for the security measures in place. A normal daycare doesn’t have cameras, guards roaming the outside perimeter, or even an anti-climb fence that was buried into the ground by at least two feet on all sides of the back area here. “I…” Jeremy trailed off a little and for a second, I saw a flash of regret. “I honestly can’t say. I might have already had Infasia at that point and I was too scared too, but I’m really just not sure. My advice… do it or don’t dwell on it. Besides… your diagnosis might be better in the long run.” “What?” I had been in this world of regression personally for almost nine months. In all that time, at least below the age of five, I had never heard anyone saying anything positive about ARV. “There’s a positive? How?” Jeremy smirked and gestured to our friend group in front of us. “Look at them. Nearly blissed out completely today and considering that a few popped back to their former selves earlier, it’s not even a bad day.” “So, how is that a good thing?” Seeing the drool hang a little off Frank’s lips and Harriet and Julia flash their used diapers without a care in the world, it was hard to see the point that Jeremy was trying to make. “Looks pretty bad to me.” Jeremy nodded. “Yes… for now.” I arched an eyebrow to indicate my confusion. “No one really talks about it, but Infasia is a coping method.” I had seen it pop in from stress, but I had always assumed it was a direct result of the mind breaking, but from what Jeremy was starting to say, that didn’t seem to actually be the case. “Like a turtle going into its shell, the Infasia-affected mind retreats into itself to protect the information stored from the first round of maturity. Gina and Dr. Smothers were talking about it the other day, and it… it just totally makes sense when you think about it!” I could hear his excitement, but maybe I was still too emotionally drained from my recent final diagnosis, but I wasn’t getting why. “Why is that so good?” Jeremy pressed closer to me and tapped the side of his head. “Because your brain is protecting itself against ARV… all so it can be used later on!” With that simple sentence, it finally clicked. Infasia was more of a byproduct of ARV than a manifestation of ARV itself. He wasn’t saying it, but I could read in between the lines. Our old brains would be there for us when we began to age again. Still, his excitement and gesture to everyone else on the other side seemed puzzling. “So why am I better off now than I was before? I get the whole ‘saving’ bit now, and thanks for that, but that’s only because I would need the Infasia because of a younger age. If I was older, like four, I would be fine… right? Maybe even better off?” Jeremy’s excitement faded and he shook his head. “No, Pete… without Infasia, you might get too used to being young again. You might lose your memories or settle into your new age a little too well… and not bounce out of it so easily. Remember Dylan?” I nodded. “Well, he didn’t want anyone knowing about it, but he’s accepting a lot of what comes with being a little kid again. His brain is doing wonders, sure, but a fully intact brain on all levels doesn’t secretly sleep with a nightlight or a Barney doll. Trust me, I’ve seen them.” I had been over to Dylan’s house several times, but oddly, I had never been up to his bedroom. Hearing Jeremy’s explanation and remembering that he had known Dylan for longer and had seen his room before they even went to Building 3, it all made sense now. “Wow… I just… I would have never guessed.” “Yeah… he keeps it pretty tight an’ his mommy is…” Jeremy paused and from the look on his face, I could tell that he realized that he was starting to slip back into Infasia. He continued on for a little bit, but by the time I heard a hissing noise, and he seemed totally unbothered by it, I knew my friend had fully slipped once more. Still, despite him delving into those depths himself, I now viewed Infasia differently. Scary like few other things in my current life, but now, I also viewed it as good of protection as my diaper. Unwanted and terribly embarrassing, but so much worse without it in my life now. The day continued to progress as it usually did, but with my diagnosis out of the way, I almost felt that I was settling into Building 4 more now. I wasn’t a candidate for the newborn place anymore and my friends all had reached out to me once their states of Infasia had faded. Now, being here, I felt I wanted this place to be as safe as possible. So, first thing, I wanted to deal with Ian. Regressed just like the rest of us, his cruel streak had lost none of its potency once he got over his need for things like diapers or naps. I had a hard time taking him seriously, but others… especially in the midst of Infasia, were highly susceptible to him still. Looking over while we lay out on the grass, I saw him shove another AR behind some bushes. “Oh, screw this!” I started to get up, but Harriet pulled me back, her face pale and fearful. “Pwease, Pete… don’ do ih’.” I tried to go anyway to help the kid, but her fingers dug into my arm further. “He’ll geh’ you an’ you don’ wanna bweak in hewe. You do an’… you go away.” It only took me a minute to realize that she was talking about me breaking and going beyond my bounce age, like that had happened to her with Ian and Butch and their gang earlier in the year. With my bounce age so low, going even further might have put me solidly in the category of leaving for that newborn school, so I relented and eased back. “Fine… I’ll stay.” Her relief and now looking around, everyone else’s was clear. “But that doesn’t mean we’re simply not going to do anything. Ian can’t continue on bullying everyone.” “Violence isn’ the answuh…” Frank noted first. “Let’s see if he needs a friend,” Luna then suggested. “We shouldn’t harm a fellow creature of this planet, Pete…” Soon, it was hard for the rest of the group not to be on their side at least a little bit, as I could tell the rest of the group didn’t want to resort to violence after a little more convincing. To be fair, I didn’t either, so trying to maintain some control, I shook my head. “No, no. We’re not going to hurt him. We just need him more… pacified.” “Wike dis?” Julia asked, holding out her pacifier, clearly still stuck in her own bout of Infasia still. Being here one of the longest here, her bouts of Infasia lasted longer than almost anyone else… except for maybe Frank. Luna might have been tied as well, but I think she was just one of those spacey people before all this, so admittedly, it was a little harder to tell with her sometimes. Still, we all got a good chuckle out of her offer. Gently pushing her hand back to her, I shook my head. “No. Thank you for the offer, Julia, but I think we need a different plan for Ian. So, here’s what I propose…” Using about the same techniques as last time, my goal was to either get Ian in trouble or humiliate him to the point of causing him to lose credibility here. I didn’t want to break him or anything, and there really wasn’t a place further down the line he could go while still abiding but the ‘no harm’ rule the group wanted, so our options were limited. By the end though, we had a solid and importantly, secret plan. Or at least I thought we did. Later, at our dedicated recess time, I was confronted head on. “Pete?” It was Mr. Collins, the head of the building. Looking to his left, I saw a concerned Miss Josie as well. Miss Bea was dealing with another incident elsewhere and was nowhere to be seen. “Yes?” I had met the man once before, and even back then when he was smiling, I never got the best of feelings from him. Now, not smiling, I was doing my best to calm my breathing and not have a panic attack. Having seen the same look before, plus the worry from Miss Josie, told me one thing… I was in trouble. “I heard that you were planning on trapping Ian and getting him in trouble… like you did before. By any chance, is this a lie?” I could see a slight hint of hope that he was wrong about me, but I didn’t want to lie to him. So, I sighed and shook my head. “No, Mr. Collins. I…” I wanted to lie to him, but I knew that somehow, he knew beyond a doubt of what I had been planning with my group regarding Ian. Lying now would have just gotten me into more trouble than I already was. “I was planning on that, but if I could just sa…” “No,” he said, the boom in his voice seeming only a couple decibels off from rattling the ground beneath my feet. Being smaller than everyone else in charge around here, I came to fear the loud voices. Today, with Mr. Collins, it was no different, and I quickly shut my mouth. “Now then… I’ve talked with Miss Bea and with Miss Josie here…” I saw a tenuous but still present smile etch over her face. “I think what you were planning to do is despicable. This is a place of relaxation and easement for everyone here. Do you understand that?” I wanted so badly to shoot back that Ian was the problem… not me, but I could just sense that would have only made things worse today. So, I simply nodded in defeat. “Good,” he said, a look of satisfaction creeping over his face now. “I’m glad you didn’t need any convincing. All that being said though… I am aware that Ian might be a little… shall we say, rough?” A brutal and intimidating jerk more like it, but ‘rough’ was a step in the right direction. “Therefore, today will just be some corner time and a loss of desert tonight, okay?” It was small and I knew I could have had it a lot worse. Spanking wasn’t allowed here, but being an AR in Building 4, I knew I was vulnerable in a lot of ways. Less so than others here, but I knew that any weakness I had could be used against me. For example, when Frank tried to bite one of the attendants the other day for trying to take away his stuffed animal, they took his stuffed animal away anyways and gave him prunes and beets at lunch. I don’t think I had ever seen someone so distraught over something so simple, but the effect couldn’t be denied. So, that’s how I wound up on a small little stool in the corner of the room. Admittedly, being by myself, I could feel the shame of others whispering behind my back. It was a mark of disobedience around here… not to mention that not moving from my spot, I had no choice but to wet my diaper. It made me feel babyish… stupid even for trying to take down Ian again. But sitting there, even after I wet my diaper, as uncomfortable as it was, it gave me time to think about a lot of things. I thought about my family and that they would be visiting me tomorrow… my parents for the first time in over a week now. I thought about Infasia and my role here. But I also thought about why I was sitting on that tiny stool in the corner. No one had been near enough to hear us. Miss Josie and Miss Bea were off when we were discussing our plans, and Ian was far away demanding someone’s snack out of view of one of the cameras, apparently having tested it out several times to find a single blind spot. He was also missing his previous minions of Building 3, so in my mind that just left one thing… someone in our group was a rat. It was the only explanation that made sense to me logically. Every other scenario had at least two factors against it, and what’s more, it would explain several other instances where Miss Bea or Miss Josie somehow knew a secret that had been discussed in the group… like my appreciation for my diaper the other day when I fell backward and onto my butt, hitting the cushion of the diaper rather than my tailbone. Back then, I just assumed they had good security cameras or were highly intuitive. Now, a rat in the group seemed far more likely. The next morning, everything was pretty much routine now, sadly or not. A diaper change after being plucked from my crib, a nice relaxing bath, and fed a breakfast at one of the small round tables. Just as each of us was finishing up though, I got a tap on the shoulder. It was Miss Bea. “Pete?” Your family is here.” This morning, I couldn’t get a read on her if she felt that was either a good or a bad thing. Normally, I could tell, but right then, it just felt like she was strictly keeping her face in a forced neutral position. Regardless, I nodded, ate my last bite of oatmeal and followed her to the outside area near the fountain that I had last seen them before. This morning, they looked exactly the same… except no Amanda this time. Being a Saturday, I knew it wasn’t a school day, so while I wasn’t exactly mourning not seeing her, my curiosity was also definitely piqued. “Hey there, Pete,” my brother called first. “Good night’s sleep?” I nodded. “Very good actually. The mattresses here are honestly some of the best.” Peering out to his right, I saw both my parents patiently waiting, though nearly bursting at the seams it appeared to talk to me as well. “Hello… mom… dad…” “Hey, Pete…” My dad still looked dejected from the other day. “I’m glad you had a good night’s sleep, Pete,” my mom joined in, slightly pushing a bag to the rear of her. I wondered what it was, but also, seeing her facial muscles twitch ever so slightly, I could tell she was using every ounce of her willpower to hold back from doing anything more. “So… Amanda sick or something?” I asked with both curiosity and a little concern. My mom shook her head. “No. She insisted on coming, but… well, we talked to Dr. Smothers, and for the time being, we all felt it was best she just stayed home. She’s just not old enough yet to approach this… situation with the calm it needs.” “Especially after last week…” my dad added. “Gregg!” I could see that my mom didn’t want to bring that time up. I wondered if Dr. Smothers had suggested that as well. She then turned her attention back to me once my dad retreated a little bit. “She just… she needs more time to adjust to being the physically older one. As you know, it carries some responsibilities with it… and a need to know that you might not be the priority all the time. Dr. Smothers suspects she might have been lashing out at you on purpose after we started spending more time with you. And now… well, that would only be more.” I tried not to take offense over her eyes briefly flashing to my midsection, clearly searching for signs of my diaper. Today, wearing the thicker material of khaki shorts, it wasn’t as obvious, but she already knew. It was why I was in Building 4 in the first place. “Thanks… I mean… uh, thank you for that. With everything going on, I don’t know if I could…” Right then, as if to emphasize the problems I was now experiencing at least on the physical front that I feel Amanda would at least snicker at, I could feel a burst of warmth from my front. My potty training had taken a hit recently and I noticed that it was even worse when I was stressed. Seeing my parents and talking about Amanda certainly qualified as stressful. Either not paying attention or focusing on something else, Lucas and our dad seemed unaware. My mom however, started to give me a knowing look as I quickly continued… even while I was still peeing. It was awkward, but I didn’t want to give them more of an idea of my helplessness than they might have already thought. “… I’m just not super comfortable with her lately. I want to be a good brother to her still, but… I just don’t know if that’s possible right now.” “And we felt the same way,” my dad said, again, not noticing or not caring about my brief pause. “She’s at a friends house anyways, so I don’t think she’s too miserable to be there instead. She just wanted details or something of the sort when we got home.” It gave me a brief knot in my gut. “And are you…?” “No,” Lucas said quickly. “We’re not going to tell her anything embarrassing or anything like that. Right?” His question was clearly posed right to both our parents. “Right,” our dad quickly confirmed. Both then looked at my mom, still sporting an odd look in my direction. Noticing their looks though, she nodded. “Right, right, okay? I know the drill. It’s just that…” She then paused and I could sense her hesitation, but her determination as well. In the end, her determination won out. “Pete… do you need a…?” She then winced a little, and I could see the conflict within her. Putting myself in her shoes, she was likely battling her decades-old motherly instincts wanting to check on whatever she felt was wrong, but she was also likely dealing with the fact that we weren’t on the best of terms. Remembering back to the several ARs who had pushed their families permanently away, even filing a restraining order in some cases, my mom also grimaced when they came on the news. Sighing heavily, she took a step closer to me and lowered her voice, again, her determination seemingly winning out. “Pete… do you need a change?” My stomach dropped a little at the question. I wanted to be pissed at her for even asking, especially with the seemingly shocked looks on Lucas’ and our dad’s faces. It might have just stayed a secret and then Miss Bea would have changed me and that would be that. No one would be the wiser and everything could continue. Instead, my mom had lowered her voice admittedly but had still announced her question to anyone who was listening. With my potty training not being the most ideal on that side at least, I should have known this day was coming. The whole point of me staying here full-time was to give everyone time to adjust, and whether I liked it or not, my parents were to become my caregivers. Add it all up, and questions about my diapers were just going to become a necessity in the best of scenarios. “Maybe we should…?” My brother started to suggest. My mom shook her head though. “No. We all need to get used to the question. I can see the conflict in you, Pete, but you’re wearing a diaper for a reason. So, please, let us help you.” I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment right then. I wanted to jump into the fountain and claim that I had always been wet. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide… but I didn’t do anything like that. I hated it to my very core, but my mom was right… So, I nodded a little. “Yes…” “Thank you for telling me, honey…” I could already hear the tone she had used on Lucas, Amanda, and I whenever we needed comforting. It was clear, calm, and even soothing. “That must have been really difficult but I’m proud of you for admitting that.” Yeah… the fountain was looking pretty good right then… “Maybe we should…?” His head nod to leave the moment between us was clear. My dad was never really good with emotional stuff in the short term. I knew he would come around to all this, but for now, he was likely still reeling from his eldest son being reduced to the pint-sized at best four-year-old now before him. “I don’t know…” My mom then turned to me. “Who will it be, Pete? Dr. Smothers told us that if should happen, one of us should be the one to change you. I know that might suck, and I don’t blame you for disliking us still, but… you can at least choose this.” The fountain… or even the trees beyond this place were looking very good right then. I hated all this to my very core, but I knew I had to weigh my options, seeing no way out of this mess now. Lucas was kind to me, but I still saw him as my younger brother. We were close, but not that close. My dad looked about two steps away from passing out or crying himself and I just wasn’t sure if I could handle that right then, my own emotional state not being the most reliable these days. So, that left my mom. She seemed to be the chief architect behind keeping my ‘under three’ diagnosis from me and her treatment towards me always had seemed more childish… now even infantile. But seeing her kind smile and open heart laid out before me, I saw a vulnerability and calmness to her that I couldn’t deny. She had done all this before, was the most experienced, and seemed to be coping ten times better emotionally than my dad. All that said, as much as I hated it, I took a deep breath and pointed at my mom. “You. You do it.” My mom smiled and nodded. I could see a slight surge forward in her body, clearly wanting to hug me, but she seemed to have the sense not to act on that desire. For the moment, I was glad about that. Instead, she gestured to the door back into Building 4. “Please. Just take your time and lead the way. I’ll follow right behind, and your dad and brother can wait outside.” Nodding, I turned away and went through the doors. Not wanting my friends to see my family or have my family see my regressed friends, I opted for the bathroom that Miss Bea had taken me to my first day here. I had gone back a few times since to use the training potty in there, but recently, that had only been for number twos… As demonstrated moments ago, my accidents were increasing. “Here,” I said, stopping outside the door and pointing to it. Nodding, my mom guided me in while my Lucas and our dad waited outside. Before entering the left hallway though, I saw my mom leave the bag I saw earlier with Gladys. I was still curious, but right then, I had bigger things to worry about. Once in the bathroom, my mom and I silently played our little dance. Hoisting me up to the table, I laid down and she quickly got me undressed. Not saying a word, my wet diaper was removed, and I was wiped thoroughly all over. I hated it, but lately, there was a growing part of me that enjoyed the process… at least to become clean again. I didn’t like why that was necessary, but yes, the ‘being clean’ part was nice once again. So, using her efficient and well-practiced methods, my mom picked up with me like she had never stopped at all. It was a sobering fact, but I just liked that I was quickly powdered and rediapered without a single comment on her end. My shorts pulled back up; my mom helped me sit back up. “There. All clean again.” Instead of looking happy though, I saw her pause and grow with concern. “What’s wrong, Pete? Did I do something wrong? Why are you so unhappy?” I thought I was but registering my face right then for the first time, I felt it scrunched up… almost like I was scowling at her. I relaxed my face, but I could see the desperate look on my mom’s face. She wanted to know, and knowing the change that had just occurred would only be the first of many, I knew I couldn’t keep it inside either. “You lied to me,” I noted without any emotion. “I lied to you…?” I could see her head scrambling around for what I was talking about. “When did I lie to you? I never do that, unless it’s for your own good.” “Right. I heard that before,” I acknowledged, “but my diagnosis, mom. You should have told me about that! You had no right to keep that from me!” “But it was to protect you!” she counted. “That’s your dad’s and my job. You can’t always see the big picture and it’s our job to keep you saf…” “No!” I shouted, brimming with anger at what I saw as a betrayal. Yes, they had good reasoning, but it wasn’t enough. “You should have trusted your own son to be okay. Or, you could have done little tests. Check to see how I would handle a hypothetical scenario and go from there. Or maybe check the statistics with someone other than Dr. Smothers. Or even better, you could have just talked to me like your son. Ease me into it… but no! You both lied to me!” “But we didn’t lie,” my mom continued to defend. “We just…” “Another lie!” I yelled. “I asked you both if you knew anything and you said no! That’s a lie, mom. I don’t care how you justify it, but that’s a lie! I’m supposed to trust you in all this, and now… how can I? How can I put my faith into someone that kept one of the biggest secrets of my life from me? You just…” “Hey there,” my dad noted, quickly opening the door. “I heard some shouting in here. Is everything okay?” I could tell I had revealed the truth to my mom that I don’t think she had even thought about lately. In the beginning, I was always told they didn’t know, but having time to think about it, they always waffled about later on. That should have been a clue to me that they knew for sure by then, and maybe that was on me, but before… that was still a lie. “Okay… maybe let’s go back outside? Enjoy the nice weather?” he suggested. My mom and I didn’t say anything, but we both moved to get me off the table and walk right past him afterward. “I guess that’s a yes…” This time, with everyone inside and playing or even still arriving, Lucas suggested that we retreat to the back… just in case someone came out from one of the other buildings and confronted us about our noise. Plus, getting back there, it was immediately obvious that Lucas wanted to distract me by horsing around on the reinforced and sturdy playground equipment with me. Utilizing the slides, rickety bridges, and even some of the more childish puzzles and features, Lucas and I laughed along and had a great time together. It was still a little strange to be played with like this by my ‘younger’ brother, but the joy was a nice change of events from what felt like the usual circumstances with my family these days… like what had just happened in the bathroom with my mom, who was now sitting in the cuddled up position by my dad on a nearby bench. Though a little awkward with the tension between my mom and I hanging in the air, Lucas and I still had some fun together. I could tell he wanted to ask me what had happened and why mom was so distant now, but he didn’t press it. And I guess that’s how I ended up in one of the taller towers, waiting to go down the slide… and saw something. I wasn’t sure at first, but looking more closely, I could tell it was a man. What’s more, by his equipment and stolid appearance, he was clearly from the government. Getting down via the slide, I quickly made Lucas aware of him… who quickly informed our parents. Just as he began to walk over to us, Dad shielded us away from this stranger. “Who are you? State your business and just leave sir. This is a private facility.” The man smirked as he neared even closer. “Yes, Mr. Crichton. I know very well where we are. Being part of ARSED, I am very aware of Linfield and its laws and boundaries.” I could tell his answer stumped my dad a little. “ARSED?” was about all he could make out after a second. The man nodded, stepped forward, and after sliding his hand into his jacket pocket, he whipped out a shiny ID card attached to a shiny silver badge. “Agent Brooks. I’m assigned to all ARs in this area… with emphasis on those who will be returning to their homes after being in Building 4. As for ARSED… Age Regressor Safety Enforcement Division, a new branch under the Department of Homeland Security. We essentially monitor all ARs and ensure that those four years old and younger stay safe. I’m afraid to say, but amongst the group of ARs, they experience the biggest rates of abandonment, neglect, or abuse. We step in and make sure that doesn’t happen anymore. Understand?” We all nodded our heads, and now stepping out of the building, Miss Bea ran over. “Oh, Agent Brooks. I was wondering when you would grace us with your presence. A phone call would be nice…” “But that would alert you to us coming,” he noted dryly. “Convenient, yes, but if there is a problem, we want to know about it. Showing up unannounced usually leads us to some of our biggest busts.” “Right…” my mom said, clearly trying to process everything she was hearing now. “So, where do we fall in all this?” Agent Brooks nodded and handed my parents a small brochure. “This will detail all that we are looking for, but an associate of mine, Agent Carlyle I believe, will make periodic home visits to ensure the safe and comfort of your new baby.” “Baby!” I felt my rage bloom inside of me like an explosion had just been set off. “You son of…!” “Hush, Pete!” my mom chided me. “We need to hear this.” “Thank you, ma’am.” Agent Brooks scratched his chin for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah, yes! Now, we will be evaluating several aspects of your home life, including all siblings, parents, safety features, psychological profiles… the works. If it will interact with your new baby, we want to know about it.” “Okay! That does it!” I began to march around my dad to punch this guy in the balls. I didn’t care. No one called me a baby. “Now just look here, you…” I didn’t have time to finish that thought. To my horror, my mom yanked me up from behind into her arms, plucked out from seemingly nowhere a single and fast-moving blue object… before popping it into my mouth. I tried to yell behind whatever the blasted thing was. I tried to spit it out. I even tried yanking it out… All failed. So, between that thing and my mom’s vice-like grip over me, I was essentially neutralized. “Yes… in any rate,” he quickly continued, “just be prepared for a thorough examination once Agent Carlyle comes to your home. Should be shortly after Pete comes home… at least once he’s accepted all this.” Smiling and shaking everyone’s hands, except mine, he nodded and left just as quickly as he came. Setting me down, my mom withdrew the object from my mouth. Looking at it, to my further rage, I saw it was a pacifier. “And what the hell was that all about? What happened to…?” “Pete!” my mom scolded. “You were disruptive to the agent, and we needed to hear what he had to say. We were warned of his arrival at some point, and we’ve just the worst things whenever one of those visits he mentioned goes wrong. I’m very sorry about the pacifier and restraining you, but he wasn’t going to stop his ways, and we needed to hear him.” “She’s right, Pete,” my dad agreed. “Didn’t know about the ARSED aspect, but we knew an inspection was coming. We fail that and you get taken away and raised by strangers. And if you think your mom and I are the worst, people taking in ARs can be even worse. Just pure baby treatment all the time at your age.” It was a rough way to put things, but it promptly shut me up as I could only nod and leave just about as fast as I could to think about everything. Like before, my parents had dictated my actions, and I hated it, but once it was fully explained to me, their actions seemed… justified. I hated myself for even reasoning that, but it was a hard argument to get around. Bad outcomes, but the alternatives kept seeming worse. I didn’t like it, but being pulled back by Lucas a little while later, I couldn’t hate my parents. Dislike… maybe? But, no, not hate anymore. Eating a snack, with Miss Bea and Miss Josie now holding the rest of the class back, it was almost nice to just hang out with my family once again. Yes, my parents weren’t my favorite people, but I was starting to get a sense that the alternatives would have been worse. It was all a bad situation, but at the end of the day, my family was my family. They still treated me with respect and a bond that was hard to come by. Others could have treated me without any lies and with a degree of unsurpassed maturity, but that was a matter of long odds. With my family at least, I knew what I was getting myself into. So, it was that each of us began to crack jokes and recall old times we shared together. Often, it was at the expense of another member, but each of us had a counterpoint to throw back at them. For example, that one time my dad lost his car keys in the lake was countered by that one time that Lucas tried to get the ranch dressing out and accidentally instead spilled it all over himself. Simple and stupid stuff, but it reminded me again why I loved my family… why I knew I had to go back with them… and why I had to forgive them for what my parents had withheld from me. I wouldn’t forget, but the burden of forgiveness was now on me, and I offered it freely… at least in my head. A little bit after snack time, I felt a tickling sensation around my groin, but thought nothing of it, just wanting to focus on playing with Lucas and now, even my parents. It was simple and easy, and climbing to the top of the playground, which took no small degree of determination and skill on my part, my strength now just utterly lacking, I made it to the top. Once there, everyone cheered, and I felt so accomplished. Then, looking at the slide below, I felt a twinge of fear, but I was determined to go down. Right before I sat though, my bladder released once again. I blushed heavily and cursed my luck, but like before, I just pushed through it, sat with a squish and rode the slide down. There, it seemed everyone was happy but also keyed into what had just happened. “Congratulations, honey,” my mom praised lastly, “but did you… did you maybe have an accident at the top?” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks once more and I shrunk under everyone’s gaze. “Oh, it’s okay, Pete. We just want to help, okay?” “Yeah, bro,” Lucas agreed while our dad nodded along. “No judgment on our parts.” “Maybe even try to think of it a different way?” my dad offered, eliciting a round of looks from everyone else as to what he was talking about. “You know… maybe just think of diapers like glasses or a cane. Pretty common and neither are shameful. They’re just simply aids that are needed to help people out in life. You need a little protection, and sometimes, that protection is used and needs to be switched out for something new.” Smiling, my mom gave him a little side-hug before looking down at me. “He’s absolutely right, Pete. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So, why don’t we do this again and fix you up right quick?” I groaned but this time let her lead me back into the building and towards the changing station in the bathroom. Before we entered though, I noticed her pull that same bag that she had previously left with Gladys. My curiosity was at its peak still, but I was more distracted as we entered the hallway and then back to the bathroom. This time, I knew what to expect, and ever the efficient mom, she was done with the change in minutes. I barely even registered the process, and with the day I was having, I could be thankful for that fact at least. My mom then sighed. “Pete… I can tell you’re still upset with me and about everything that’s been going on lately. That’s understandable, and… well, I think you could use a gift of sorts.” She paused for a second and then reached into the bag. Pulling it out, I recognized it immediately for what it was. It was a penguin, or to be more precise, a stuffed animal in the form of a penguin. “That’s… that’s…” I could scarcely stare at the object now presented before me, let alone make out a complete sentence. I had seen all my friends have their own, even Jeremy adopting his own in the form of a cat he called, or at least attempted to call, whiskers. “But that’s…” My mom shook her head. “I know this looks a lot like your first stuffed animal, Flipper, but this one is different. You wore Flipper completely out, remember? You were devastated when I couldn’t even salvage him anymore,” she recalled. Instantly, those old feelings resurged, and I oddly felt his loss just as bad as the day I could no longer cuddle with him. Looking back at the penguin before me now, it was hard not to draw parallels. But despite a general warmth returning to me over the sight of this new potential companion, I had to voice my concerns. “But why? I’m not a baby, remember? Why do I need a stuffy… uh, stuffed animal.” I hoped she wouldn’t make a deal out of my slip of the tongue. It was hard to call something by another name when all your friends reinforce it every day. It was nothing more. ‘Right?’ But my mom didn’t comment on that. Instead, she handed the penguin to me outright. “Please take it, Pete. No one is going to judge you here, and if your family can’t be here to comfort you… then you need someone… something else. Why not this little penguin?” I had to accept the gift into my arms, and as soon as it touched my forearms, I felt it’s slick but soft and fuzzy texture. My brain felt like it was being irradiated in a soft warm glow of contentment… and I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to drop him… it right then. But I didn’t. I wanted to toss it aside. But I didn’t. I wanted… I wanted… I wanted to hug and cuddle him tight. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let go. A part of my mind burned and screamed in agony at what the other parts were saying, but those protesting sections were outnumbered. After all, even that part of my brain had to rationalize that it was just a toy. Something simple and easy… not a life commitment or a poor reflection on me. “Now, you don’t need to take the penguin,” she continued, but I figured you might like something else here. But I guess I was wrong. I’ll just take it bac…” “No!” I instantly regretted my outburst as soon as it was out. I didn’t mean to scream, and I wanted to die in a hole someplace, especially as a small smile escaped my mom’s previous restraint. “I mean… no. It’s fine. As you said… not a big deal and no one will care.” “Very well…” I could just make out her tremendous amount of joy she was now receiving over my acceptance of the stuffed animal penguin. “I mean, you know that I just want what’s best for you, Pete. Whether that’s a penguin, or…” She then trailed off and I could see that her brain was working overtime to likely evaluate her options. Sighing, she stroked the penguin for a second. “But you know… you were right. I should have trusted you more. I feel I know what’s best, but I guess that’s just the old mom in me stupidly thinking that you’re really three or four years old again. And now… I know that’s just not true. Maybe not the age you were either, but not a baby.” She then looked down and pulled up the bag before setting it next to me on the changing table. “I guess what I’m trying to say… is that I hope you can forgive your dad and I one day. For now, though, I think I can safely say that we just want to help you and be there for you in any way you need. Whether that’s distance, time, or a hug… we’ll give it to you without question but marked in a seal of our love for you. Does that make sen…?” I didn’t let her finish. I wasn’t sure if maybe Infasia was taking me over a little at a time and I just didn’t realize it yet, or maybe I was just waiting for her to truly say that she was sorry, but either way… I broke my stoic position and reached out to hug her. She was a little bit away from the changing table, but I guess seeing me lunge outward, my mom closed the gap and embraced me right back. In our hug, and stemming from a full day to reflect on the other caregivers I had seen so far along with some free time I had thought on it before, I had to admit that as much I didn’t like so much about what my parents had done, there was a part of me that knew they were right at some level. Wrong, but I had to accept the fact that the unknown was our biggest enemy. For me, that entailed me to worry about my future. For my parents though, that meant that they were worried about me possibly being lost to them forever if I ever broke. It still stung to be kept out of the loop, but I knew I had to move on. Forgive basically… just not forget. After a little time, we backed off from each other, and knowing I needed to make the next move, I held up my pinky. “Okay… pinky promise that you won’t keep anything from me in the future. Go slow but tell me the truth.” Smiling at the sign of our gesture, my mom hurriedly interlocked her pinky around mine. “Deal.” And if that wasn’t enough to convince me, she leaned and kissed her pinky. In our rules, that just meant that she was completely serious and was accepting the consequences if she broke her promise. Exiting back outside, it was clear of the difference between a free mind versus one burdened by guilt, dread, and self-hatred even. Some of that was still there, but with a critical conversation out of the way, I felt that my family and I were on the path to true forgiveness and my departure from spending any more nights here. Not long after, the sun was just beyond its pinnacle for the day, and my parents noted they had to leave. Something about Amanda, but I was accepting them leaving. So, a series of hugs and kisses goodbye, and my family left once more. It had been difficult, but the results were most definitely worth it. All that said, as Miss Bea stayed with me to see them off by the front entrance, I held onto my penguin and once again, had to admit that my mom was right about him. With my family’s departure, Linfield felt very lonely. I could cope with it, but my new friend helped me push past those feelings and made me not feel so utterly alone. Once out of sight, I made sure to give the penguin a big hug and made a mental note to name him something other than ‘the penguin.’ Regardless of all that silliness, I knew he was going to be needed in the days to come. As I got younger, things were bound to get harder. Plus, despite my sadness of seeing my family leave, and a desire to hug them just one more time, I was dreading returning home. I couldn’t do anything about it, but there wasn’t a day that went by that didn’t make me even more concerned about going home. Hopefully, my new friend was going to help with all that… because if not, I wasn’t sure how I would cope with it all without breaking. And to be blunt, that scared me most of all.

Thank you. Over 20 votes for the next story, split pretty easily between the three. I won't give it away, but one is starting to move ahead of the others. If the vote holds, it should be a pretty fun story to write.

Don't worry... everything has a plan and Pete will find out all that very soon. On another note, I just made some edits to the whole chapter. Nothing plot changing, but I figured I would just put it out there here as well... It turns out that editing and writing at two in the morning after only a few hours of sleep isn't the wisest of ideas.

Hey everyone! Yay! I just hit 50,000 views on A Reform of Everything: A View into the Change of the Maturity Laws. I know it’s not as much compared to some of the heavy hitters around here on this site, but I just wanted to take this moment to thank all of you who have read that story in particular. It was a challenge to write for sure, but I have no regrets. Now, I’m just glad you all seemed to like it as well. Now… curses to all! To be honest, until recently, my D&D group on Wednesday nights has been getting cut short. No one wants to stop in the middle of a fight, so I had an extra little buffer zone. Fortunately for the group but unfortunately for my stories, this hasn’t been the case as much in the past two weeks. Simply put… between work, the group meeting up, and a commute that I swear is going to pop a blood vessel in me at some point, there’s just not a lot of room anymore to write and edit on Wednesday. There might be some exceptions to this in the future, but for now… it is what it is. So, sorry for the ramble a bit there, but I think I might try to get ahead when I have more time almost guaranteed on Mondays. I almost always finish writing early and then take a nice break. If I rearrange a few things, I can use this to bolster the next two days to get a chapter up as I normally do. Long story, but one thousand apologies for the delay in getting this chapter out… and also when the next one will be. Now, I will work hard to get it up another one up tomorrow, but I simply can’t guarantee that at this point… because I’m traveling all this weekend. It should be a pretty great trip, if not a bit rushed, but it also means that if I you all don’t see a chapter up tomorrow at some point, another one won’t be going up until next Monday at the earliest. So, in advance, I apologize for that delay and gap as well. Next, just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! UPDATE: Re-edited the morning after my original posting. It turns out that editing and writing on a few hours of sleep isn’t the best… Chapter 17: I’m Not Supposed to Be Here Despite my initial ease at being diapered and placed in the nursery, my mind was still a little warry of this place I now found myself in. Toddlers on my left and babies on my right weren’t exactly the sights I wanted to be witnessing… especially when I was now being lumped in with them. Sure, my body would say that I was no different from them in a large sense, but my mind… that was another story. So, as the hour ticked on and the more progressed group members, especially those still in the throes of a bout of Infasia, went down for a nap, I began to feel a tickling notion in the back of my mind. I’m not supposed to be here. Maybe I should have had that thought when I was motioned into this building the first place. Maybe it was when I was told I couldn’t go home and had to stay here. Maybe, just maybe, I should have protested during my first diaper change in over 25 years… but I didn’t. Part of me moaned over the notion that I might come to live to regret that decision not to be more furious in all this, but admittedly, I was distracted. With my family informed of my arrival plummeting down into Building 4 here, they also knew that I wasn’t coming home for a little bit now. Seeing how at least Lucas and our parents had started to fuss over me and even go to great lengths to protect me from others at times… especially when one lady yelled at me in the mall for almost tripping her one day, despite her literally just not seeing me below her, I shouldn’t have been surprised when Miss Bea tapped me on the shoulder just as Frank and Luna were whisked off for their own naptime. “Pete?” I turned around from my reading of one of the books, with its volume and heavy text, another oddity in this place, but a grateful one at that. “Can you come with me, please?” “Awww…” I thought I had escaped naptime. I mean, sure, I was a little tired, but I didn’t want to subject myself to that as well. “Do I have to?” Miss Bea chuckled for a second. “Oh, no, sweetie. Not yet at least, but for today, I’m here to collect you. Your family is waiting to see you. Isn’t that so nice?” I shrugged my shoulders, still harboring a bit of a grudge for them not telling me when they found out about my diagnosis and not really sure how I should respond to them. So, I was more focused on that aspect of seeing them again, but passing through and seeing the other ARs here, I realized that family visits might have been a rarity. It was just a simple and sad fact that several families couldn’t deal with seeing their loved one’s regress… and had abandoned them. It was almost the sob story of the week on news outlets since Orange Day… everyone having their own story and all, so it should have registered that seeing my family was a big deal. But it wasn’t, or at least it wasn’t until I saw one of the younger ARs look at me with sad and maybe even jealous eyes. I couldn’t tell, but it quickly made me realize that despite my own feelings toward them, seeing my family was a bit of a privilege. “Hey Pete!” Lucas said first, standing up and spotting me before my parents once Miss Bea and I were outside. Bidding me a ‘good luck,’ she then went back inside. Now alone and looking around to the few benches outside Building 4, it didn’t take me long to spot my parents and dreaded sister though… looking as devious as ever. Sadly, it was just another sign that she was in her ‘jealous phase,’ at least according to my mom when I asked her about it. Now, waddling a little closer to them in my still unfamiliar diaper, I could only feel the knot swirling around my gut from how she would react to me now. Lucas ambled up to me and gave me a hug, which I reciprocated, between him reaching down and me reaching up a bit, I was painfully aware of my stature. “Hey, Lucas…” He stepped away and smiled weakly at me before moving to the side to allow me to see the rest of the family. “Hey…” “Oh, Pete!” my mother seemed to lament. “I can’t believe this! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry that this happened to you sweetie.” Her sentiment was overwhelming, but her notion of disbelief was a little hard to stomach. I quickly wondered if Principal Warton, or whomever called on my behalf informing them of my situation, had left out that now I knew that they already knew about my diagnosis. For either of them, none of this should have been a shock. Lucas might have known, but I wasn’t sure about him yet… at least not as sure as I was about my parents knowing. “Hey, bud…” My dad looked a little despondent, but I also noticed how his hands were placed cautiously over my sister’s shoulders… almost like he was holding her back. Seeing her near-wild-eyed looks, I suspected it was for the best. “Ooh! Ooh!” Amanda practically squealed. “Can I go hug my new baby bwuthuh now? I was weally good an’ you said he’d be my new playmate an’…” “Amanda!” My mom shot an angry look over at her, and despite my feelings of slight betrayal over not being informed about my diagnosis, it was nice to see that she was still taking my side. “We do not use those words. We also talked about that as well.” “Which wowds?” she asked, clearly playing innocent as she batted her eyes over at her. She was still only five, but she remembered nearly everything when she wanted to or at least was paying attention to. Seeing my mom’s face as well though, I knew there was no way that she wasn’t paying attention to that particular discussion. That only left that she didn’t care, which was a possibility, but seeing her twirling around a little, I recognized the action as the one she took whenever she was trying to get away with something. ‘Oh yeah… she knew.’ Fuming a little, I could see my dad hunch over her from behind a little more. “You know very well which words, young lady.” I could see Amanda cower a little under his glare. Finally, she seemed to be learning what Lucas and I always knew about our dad. He was the most loving dad to both of us… but cross him and watch out. He didn’t believe in spanking or anything like that, but he knew just how to punish each of us in our own unique ways. Knowing Amanda, revoking her time with Princess Mondy was likely at the top of the list. Seeing her settled and resigned now, my mom came up to me. I could see she was looking for a hug, but I remained planted firm in opposition to that. In the little time they had scolded Amanda, my own thoughts on not being told about my diagnosis despite them knowing, had been brewing. Slowly, I was feeling an anger building up within me. “Well, I guess you’re healthy… and that’s what matters,” she said with a degree of optimism. “So, then… how are you settling in? Any proble…?” “I don’t belong here…” My anger bubbling under the surface now, I wanted to get to the fact that they knew about my diagnosis, but I also wanted to test the waters with them first. I was concerned about that I felt like I didn’t belong here… at least not yet, but I also wanted them to fall into my trap and show their hand that they had in fact lied to me. My dad sighed at my words. “Pete… I know this isn’t the best scenario ever, but this place can offer what you need now.” “He’s right,” my mom agreed. “I don’t know…” Lucas said, seeming hesitant about it all, casting some of my suspicion away from him on if he knew as well or not. “The doctor’s said under six… maybe he just had one accident. Maybe it was a fluke or…?” “No, Pete has a new role in life, and he belongs here,” my dad said a little more forcefully. “Yeah…” Lucas said, wavering a little. “Maybe on the one hand of how they have this set up, but Pete’s what? Four? Five?” I didn’t like that I was almost being completely passed over in the conversation now, but my brother’s defense was admirable, and it was giving me a perfect opportunity to get a read on my parents. Pretty soon though, it also told me that he didn’t know about my diagnosis either. Both my parents were defensive or even evasive. Lucas was more adamant though in finding an answer. “Heck! Amanda still had the occasional accident back then. Like our road trip last year? She almost didn’t make it at that one gas station, remember?” “Hey!” Amanda glared at our brother. “That was jus’ one time an’ there was a line at the bathwoom.” “Fine, fine,” my brother relented to her point, “but what about Pete? How do you know he belongs here? How do you…?” “Because they know, Lucas…” I said, briefly interrupting him. Almost immediately, he turned to me with a puzzled look like I was almost defending their actions. I knew I had to set the record straight and spring my trap. “They were told of my diagnosis months ago.” “What?” His focus snapped back to our parents, both now clearly stunned and a little mortified. Any doubt I had in their knowledge of my diagnosis vanished like a puff of smoke. “Is this true?” I could see that he wanted it to be a lie more than anything else right then, but their silence was damning, and I could see his soul get just about as crushed as mine had been before as well. “Holy… please tell me that you didn’t keep this from Pete at least. Please tell me that you had that decency at least…” “No,” I said quickly before they could lie… again. “I was just told about it earlier today.” I then looked back at my parents. “Under three, right?” Again, their silence spoke volumes. “Why?” Lucas asked after a few minutes of no one talking. Then, just beyond the bushes, I could see the flood of other Linfield students exiting the building, now ready to go home. I wondered if Phil or Dylan or Fred or even Sammy cared that I was gone now. I wanted to know, but I could see my dad about to break, so I refocused my attention back on him. “We knew…” my dad said, hanging his head low. “We… we were told that…” He then trailed off, almost like the knowledge had hurt him somehow. “We were told that it was better this way,” my mom then finished for him, glaring a little in his direction. “Lots of transitioners were breaking down and that caused them to blow right past their bounce date. With a new diagnosis of under three, blowing past that could mean you would end up as less than a year old… maybe even a newborn. We didn’t want to risk that, so yes, we didn’t tell you, Pete.” The very mention of that possibility sent a shiver down my spine, but all this still felt wrong. “You should have told me, or at least had the decency to trust me that I wouldn’t have a complete mental breakdown. I mean… do you have so little faith in your own son to be okay? And what about the opposite effect where I spiraled out because…” “Sweetie… it’s my… our job to protect you…” She took a breath after cutting me off and looked at me intently. “Even if that means sometimes not being your friend. In this case, we felt that we just couldn’t risk you spiraling down in that way like some of the others had here. Our way was a risk, but it was less of a risk than any other option.” “Please, Pete…” My dad seemed much less confident in their decision back then than my mom to withhold my diagnosis from me. “At that point, there were all those cases of ARs threatening to dive off roofs or tackle security in hopes of ending it all in a quick second. We just… we didn’t want that to be the case for you and we…” “But you knew this day was coming… so why not tell him even a month ago when he slipped below seven?” my brother asked, not letting up in his own rage over this. From the rage I saw in his eyes, I could tell that he was just about as sick of their lies as I was. My parents were silent for a moment, and for a second, I wondered if there was another reason they had kept it from me. Just as Lucas was about to ask another question, it all became so clear to me… especially thinking back to everyone I had just seen in the daycare. Toddlers… babies… there wasn’t a single one of them who could have put up a fight if they tackled a security guard. For those that even could still walk, getting past the doors and up to the roof wouldn’t have been easy. Yes, even an eight-year-old could manage to slip past the security measures and get up there… like Bradley had done back when I first arrived here, albeit a little older, but someone like me now? It almost seemed impossible. “Waiting so long…” I started, tears already beginning to swim in my eyes from the extra layer of betrayal I now felt, “they wouldn’t have to worry about any of that.” I then stared back at my brother and gestured to my diminutive form. “I mean… look at me, Lucas. What’s the worst I could do? Hug a teddy bear to death? I can barely tie my own shoes without slowing down my process anymore… let alone fight back. They… they wanted me compliant… manageable when I found out.” “Pete…” This time, both my parents looked ashamed. They didn’t outright admit it, but it was very obvious looking at them now that my words were at least partially correct. Their lie of omission, or even outright lie when I occasionally asked them about it instead of anyone else who might know, was to protect me. I knew that it was their main focus, but it only mildly dampened the sting of betrayal that I now felt in the revelation of this other more sinister reason now. Then, as if to purposefully add insult to injury, Amanda spoke back up in the deafening silence going on around her. “So, when can we bwing baby Petey back home wiff us?” It was the final straw. Amanda was getting older, and that made some of her actions sting even more, but she was still mentally a five-year-old. At best, my body was five, but also, my mind was still mostly my own from when I was an adult. It had been shaped by over two decades of experience… and patience. Amanda didn’t have that luxury, so she couldn’t sense that moment as being the worst possible time to ask that question. But, even with all my knowledge of her ‘innocent’ little mind, her words pierced inside my ears and rang about in my head. Baby Petey. It was like some moniker that someone would give to their villain in something like a superhero story. Moab the Mauler. Grimy Greg. Pimpled Peter. Basic, but telling in just a few words about who you were dealing with. Hearing my new label, it broke any resistance I had to keeping my tears at bay. “I… I…” I was trying to say something… anything, but all that came were tears. Unable to even look at my family, and feeling the overwhelming feelings of dread, betrayal, helplessness, and weakness… I ran. “Pete!” my mom called out. “Wait!” I could hear the shuffled and panicked footsteps behind me, as well as my dad scolding Amanda, but I didn’t focus on any of that. Instead, I burst through the front door to the nursery. Looking up, Gladys showed her concern right away. “Pete? Are you…?” But I was already ramming right into the door to her left and right to the quiet room I had seen earlier. It was a little awkward to toddle there with my new blasted undergarment, forcing my legs ever so slightly apart, but I made it. Seeing the little sign outside of it before, and now seeing it showed green, I knew no one was in there. So, reaching up, I turned the handle and nearly fell inside. Once there, I collapsed into one of the bean bag chairs all set up. I lasted only seconds before bursting into tears. I just couldn’t help it. Like a switch had been pulled, dozens of thoughts shot into my head… each more daunting than the last. ‘Why did they do this? Do they not love me anymore? Am I too broken of a son to love anymore? And why can’t I stop crying? Am I a baby for real now like Amanda said? Is my baby sister now my older sister? What does this mean for me? Why can’t I stop crying? Had I fallen too far? Am I breaking now? Is this what it’s like to lose everything in a second? Darn it! Why can’t I stop crying!’ Over and over again, my thoughts kept bombarding me. Like a all-out barrage on what was at least thought to be an entrenched enemy position, my own mind felt like it was turning against me. I thought back to Ned, to Bradley, to Julia, to Harriet, to Sammy, to Jeremy, and to even Luna or Frank now… all had fugued out at some point and gone the way of Infasia. ‘Was this what it was like?’ I had no means of personal comparison, and I had been too afraid to ask any of them before now. They all seemed like it was slipping into a warm bath after, but before… sheer terror. That’s where I was at. I felt myself falling… plummeting to the ground… to rock bottom, never to resurface. Just when I felt myself caving, a light knock came from the door. I almost didn’t even hear it, but I managed to stem the flow of tears just long enough to hear it again, this time followed by a gentle voice. “Pete? Pete? You in there? It’s Lucas… your brother. Please, bro. Let me in…” I just wanted to be left alone, and I think I was justified in wanting that right then, but I could also hear the desperation in his voice. From all his questions and rage at my parents, I knew he didn’t know about my diagnosis either. Remembering back to when he tried to be King Arthur in a third-grade school play, I knew he just wasn’t that good of an actor to lie about something like that. He was genuine… and he was reaching out to me. So, willing all my energy into my limbs, I hauled myself up, still sniffling with tears rolling heavily down my cheeks and snot bubbling in my nose, and opened the door. “Lucas? What do you want?” I asked, sounding just about as pathetic as ever, and probably looking like it as well. “Oh, Pete…” Not even taking a second to ask, he immediately went in for a hug. Eerily, I was reminded back to when I was 13 and he was 7 and he had just fallen off his bike. I comforted him in just about the same way, but now the contrast was even greater between us. Clocking in at almost 24 in a few months, our physical ages at least were almost two decades apart… and growing. Still, beyond all that, his embrace felt amazing… almost too good if I was being honest with myself. No judgement. No agenda… just comfort from a brother. It didn’t matter if he was physically older than me right then. Sure, he had to bend down to give me a hug, but all that felt like a secondary issue. For that one moment, Lucas was just my brother, and I was his and in need of a good hug. Eventually backing away a little, Pete rubbed my cheek where, yet another tear threatened to cascade down onto my shirt. “It’s going to be okay, Pete. I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I can only imagine that all this must suck. I can’t tell you it’s going to get better, but I’m your brother. I will always be your brother… no matter how much you change. And what’s more, I’m always going to be there for you, okay?” Feeling a little relief and like Lucas was casting a small anchor to keep myself from drifting away completely, I could finally breathe for a second. Lucas then sighed. “Still… things are going to be a little different. First…” He then turned around and plucked one of the tissues from nearby. Looking at the table I saw several items that I didn’t recognize but tissues and hand sanitizer stuck out prominently. “And blow.” It seemed like such a parental thing to do, and while he would always be my brother, I saw his genuine care… and more importantly, lack of judgment. So, leaning in, I unloaded everything from my disgusting nose into the tissue offered. Smiling, he rolled it up and threw it away. “So much better, right?” I nodded, feeling the relief of being able to breathe at least a little easier now. “Good, but before anything else, business.” It sounded ominous, but I just nodded my head. “Now, first, I want you to know that we’ll stay the same as brothers forever. Nothing will ever change that, but you… you’re going to need help with some things. I can’t imagine how hard this is, but I think while its just the two of us here that we both can admit to that much at least, right?” “I…” I wanted to debate just how much help I needed, but it seemed like one of those times in life where if I respected him at all, it was simply a yes or no question. “Yes… I need help.” “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” Lucas scratched his head and looked down at me. “Look, I know you’re diapered and that must suck on a whole level I can’t even begin to understand anymore, but for me… if no one else or even yourself… can you give this place a try? I mean, try to be as mature as you can be… prove everyone wrong and all, but just in case… let them help you here, okay? Get comfortable and settled and then come back to us. Come back home.” I could hear the agenda he was probably sent in here to convince me to go along with, and for a moment, I felt that was why my family was truly here. Miss Bea was a wonderful person, but she also seemed practical and like she had a plan for everything. Sure, one’s family could provide comfort, but just in case, I had to imagine that they would be better than her as a stranger to convince an AR to stay here and let her and the other attendants do their jobs. With the revelation of my parents hiding my diagnosis, my brother was likely a backup. Thinking about that but at least understanding it, now, it was my turn to sigh. “I… I will, Lucas. I… I’ll try. No promises, but yes… I’ll try.” Lucas smiled back at me, and in his eyes, I saw a noticeable flicker of relief. I wasn’t a fan that he likely had an agenda, but he had given it to me plainly… at least with the objectives. He was protecting me as best he could, but I could see that he knew I needed help and probably also knew that my pride could have gotten in the way of me getting the help I needed. And for that, I had to be at least a little grateful to him… despite the way in which we got here now in getting me to admit both needing help and that I would at least try here. “And that’s all I’m asking for… You’re still Pete though, okay?” He placed a hand reassuringly on my shoulder. “Never forget that.” His words stuck to me in a way that I think I really needed in my life right then. Sure, Amanda and our parents weren’t very high on my list of people I trusted or even liked, but I was comforted by the fact that I was staying here for a little bit. If nothing else, I knew it could allow everyone to adjust as needed. I knew that before, but now, I also knew it was giving everyone a chance to breathe and shake off any ill-will, guilt, or shock at my current state of being. Still, that chance to breathe meant I also had to stay here in Building 4 much beyond the normal hours. So, with the school day at Linfield now over, my friends soon departed as well. Having already accepted and adjusted to everything pretty quickly, Jeremy’s own process being sped up by his previous bout of Infasia, I was pretty alone here. Looking over, I could see that there were two others here from the block group and one from the teddy bear group as well. I wanted to go over and say hello, but as it turned out, schedules here operated a little differently. Now, due to the evaluations after recess for Linfield, it meant that most students weren’t getting out of here until 3 or 4. Today, with my talk with my parents, my crying episode, and my talk with Lucas after… plus all the goodbyes and awkward resolutions of all that, it meant that it was now nearing 6 in the afternoon. Seeing the time, it didn’t take long before I was guided to one of the small plastic tables next to the highchairs and fed dinner. The kiddie table wasn’t great, but the white plastic highchairs were worse, so I eagerly sat down and complied. After all, I had just promised Lucas that I would try it out here at least. “Open wide, Pete… please?” I was hesitant, but I still didn’t want to question Miss Bea so early on, so I readily complied. “Good,” she said with a smile. “Just making sure…” I pondered what for a little bit, but then, I saw that my food was very different from one of the ARs from the block group up in a highchair. While my food was almost normal, albeit a bit juvenile in selections, his food was… to put it plainly, mushy. I nearly wanted to gag when I saw the green goop slide off his spoon at one point. He seemed to enjoy the goopy substance, but I quickly just focused back on washing everything down I had just eaten with a big glass of milk. It was actually almost a pleasant experience… at least not counting the goop. The meal was easy to eat, and owing to a few missing molars… I think, I appreciated that more than I would have cared to admit. Still, dinner was soon over, and I was even helping out Miss Bea put everything in the dishwasher. For that one moment, I felt pretty mature. Even when I went back to the main nursery area, I chose a good book and dove right in to keep that feeling going. But then, suddenly, almost out of nowhere, I needed to pee. Frantically looking around, I was determined not to use my diaper right from the start. I could feel the pressure already mounting, but I wasn’t really sure how to go about all this. I wanted to punch myself for not asking at least Jeremy. Sure, he seemed comfortable in his own diapers, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t used the potty ever when he first came here. But now… I didn’t see a single attendant around. “Jus’ go alweady…” a two-year-old from the block group finally told me, peering over from messing around with a big stuffed bunny. “Iss notta big deal.” “But I… I can make it to the pot… toilet. I just need to…” I felt another jolt of pressure and I almost lost it right there, but I still had enough control to hold it back. “I can make it…” “Buh’ youwe wearin’ a diaper… jus’ go,” he said again. I shook my head, determined to stand my ground and keep up the notion of my maturity. “No. I won’t do it. I was told if I made it, I could still use the training potty. I would have fought a lot harder if I knew that wasn’t the case.” The pressure was almost painful at that point. “Please… I don’t know what I need to do to get someone’s attention.” Looking at me a little in judgement but maybe understanding from how he used to be as well, the two-year-old AR got up and cleared his throat loudly and banged a toy onto the bookshelf nearby to one of the doors out. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for Miss Josie to come hurriedly to see what the fuss was about. For his part, the two-year-old acted like nothing was a big deal, but seeing me, Miss Josie didn’t seem to notice him anyways. “Pete?” she questioned, looking down at me. “Did you…?” “Please! Potty” I emphasized. “Right now!” “Oh!” Like a jack rabbit springing into action, she nearly bounced over to me, grabbed me unexpectedly by the armpits and swung me over to the door I recognized as being the one to the shared bathroom between in here and the outer hallway. “Just hold on, Pete! I got you!” Quickly opening and then shutting the door once we were inside, Miss Josie pulled out the nearby training potty. This one had a few butterflies, happy faces, and rainbows on it, but despite all that, it still represented my salvation from the feeling I was currently experiencing. ‘Hold on, Pete… Almost there…’ Dropping me in front of it, I didn’t have any time to think before Miss Josie immediately dropped my drawstring shorts to the floor and popped open my diaper. The cold air around me almost made me lose control, but pushing right past that I was now unclothed in front of yet another relative stranger today, I plopped down on the seat behind me. The stream shot out practically like a firehose. From the sounds hitting the plastic potty, I knew I was close to an accident… way too close for my comfort levels. But despite my realization over everything that had just happened and Miss Josie’s prompt stripping of my clothes without asking me, I had made it. Sighing with relief, while deep down I hated it all, I also realized that it was also necessary. If she had asked me before removing my clothes… accident. If she had let me walk over here on my own… accident. If she had positioned me on the nearby miniature toilet; too long and before I would have known it… accident. So, there was only thing to do now. With another deep breath, I looked up from my successful but shameful spot on the training potty and up to Miss Josie. “Miss Josie… thank you. I…” It was tough to say any of that and I think that she could tell, especially when I sort of trailed off. “It’s okay, Pete,” she replied rapidly before things had a chance to fester in my mind over something like my personal embarrassment right then. “It’s my job and I’m more than happy to do it, but also… I’ll make sure to mark this one down as a success, okay?” “Success? Mark down? I questioned with a puzzled look on my face. Miss Josie nodded as she began helping me up, wiping me off with a baby wipe before sadly depositing me back up to the building in changing table in here. “You made it to the potty, Pete. You do that a few more times, and we might consider putting you in some pull-ups… hence the marking down bit. I don’t mark it, and Miss Bea or even our head here, Mr. Collins might question things about your real maturity. It’s a tough road you’re on I’ll admit, but a mark like this shows very well.” Despite her retaping my refastenable diaper back on after a quick wipe and further dusting of baby powder, I felt a success as well. I was vulnerable… more so than I had been in all my life to my memory, but I had made it. It was a small step, though in my mind, and maybe it was a coping method, but I felt hope that just somehow all this wouldn’t be so bad, and I wouldn’t end up as a ‘baby.’ Young, yes, but maybe still potty trained. To my everlasting relief, finally the day started to draw to a close. Gratefully as well, nothing else major happened besides one of the other ARs stationed here for the night who pooped their diaper and cried about it. I could see that she still hadn’t dealt with the reality of it all, and while that bugged me a little that even someone who pooped themselves so helplessly wasn’t going home, I was just happy when Miss Bea came to collect me. Guiding me over to the bathroom, she pulled out a stool for me to stand on. “Alrighty-ro… let’s get you all checked here. Arms up!” I was a little slow, but I still complied, and sure enough, in seconds, my shirt, shoes, and even shorts were all off. Prodding the front of my diaper a little, Miss Bea smiled. “Excellent work, Pete. All dry after your time on the potty from earlier. That’s great to see. Now, can you do me a favor and step into these?” Pulling from the side where they were already laid out, I saw a simple sleepwear outfit of stripes composed of white and an odd green color. Still, stepping into them, they were soft and didn’t look like the straight-up juvenile ones I had seen the others put on a little while ago. My diapered rear was painfully obvious in the stripes, but there weren’t many people around, so I didn’t make a fuss about that. Despite being the last one to be put down for the night, I was a little warry that it was still so early… at least compared to what I had been doing. Admittedly, though, the prospect of sleep was feeling more enticing as the minutes dragged on while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. After leaving, Miss Bea came back in and had me smile for her. “Hmmm… looks pretty good and no fibbing… always a good sign. Now, follow me and we’ll get you all settled. Normally, you’d get a bath or whatnot before bed here, but your parents told me that you like taking showers in the morning. We do baths here, but it makes sense, and we’ll try to accommodate that schedule for you as much as possible.” Given my settings, I knew I had to appreciate that at least a little bit. Sadly, across the country, scores of ARs had been subjected to ridicule, but a decent number lately had been subjected to treatments like they really were babies… especially if they wore diapers. So, as Miss Bea slowly opened the ‘Sleeping and Nap Room,’ I couldn’t help but be grateful yet again. To be blunt, if it were most other people, I think I would have been pissed and fought like hell by now… but with Miss Bea., somehow, everything felt like it was going to be okay… at least mostly. “Let’s see… ah, yes. Here we are.” Stopping at a large oaken frame crib, I couldn’t help but look at it like a monster or prison waiting to seize me tight. In a day of what I was now calling ‘re-firsts,’ it was just another step down, but this felt worse for some reason. “You okay, Pete?” she finally whispered, trying not to wake the other ARs who had already been put down for the night nearby. “Yeah… I…” I looked around the room and there were dozens of cribs… just like the one I was in front of now. My friends had come in here to nap earlier, and I could see a few of their names printed plainly on the corner of each crib railing. Looking to the one before me now though, I saw a blank spot… where my name was about to go. Looking down a little, I could already see the label in Miss Bea’s hands. “Why, Miss Bea? Why do I need to go in a crib? aren’t I big enough?” Miss Bea smiled at me gently before crouching down to my level. “I know this will be your first time back in one… and I really wish I could even offer you something as simple as a racecar bed, but rules are rules. It’s… it’s a safety issue, you see.” She quickly looked hesitant… almost to the point of not even continuing, but I could see her inner thoughts of guilt and openness towards me win out. “Sometimes… and I’m not saying this will happen to you, but we found that some ARs get a bout of Infasia in their sleep. As such, they might try to roll out or get up crying and try to leave. If they aren’t used to their body or their mind hasn’t full woken up, they can hurt themselves.” She grimaced and sighed a little. “Again, not you, Pete, but this is one of those cases where we can’t make an exception. I’m sorry.” It was unspoken, but I could almost sense a little part of her wording was almost a plead to me to get int eh crib without a fuss. From what I knew so far of Miss Bea, which wasn’t a lot, granted, but I could tell she was a person who got her way around here, though, only through kindness. She didn’t push anyone beyond their limits, and I could scarcely imagine what she would do if I told her ‘no,’ but digging deep, I knew I didn’t want to test what that would entail either. So, I nodded and crawled in. Looking relieved, Miss Bea smiled and simply slid my nameplate into place. “Thank you, Pete. Now, do you want or need anything at all? Your parents didn’t mention having anything to sleep with and didn’t bring anything… but do you want maybe a special cozy blanket? A stuffed animal for company? A little warm milk to get you drowsy?” “No.” My response was quick, and I could see almost a look of surprise in Miss Bea. While my response had been clear-cut, I couldn’t help but play in the back of my mind right after that one of those items wouldn’t have been so bad… I just couldn’t admit that out loud though… not yet at least. So, I stayed silent, even as she pulled the railing up on my new crib. “Alright,” she noted, clicking the bars into place once at the top. “That should do it, but before I go… just call out if you need anything. I will be here for the next two hours, and then we have a night shift attendant that will take over. She already knows about you and has been given special instructions to take your lead. So, if you don’t want any type of baby treatment, she won’t give it to you. Make sense?” It did, so I simply nodded, feeling an odd twinge of fear that Miss Bea was now leaving. I was hoping she would have noted that Miss Josie was staying, but lately, it felt that my luck wasn’t that good. Hopefully, though, I wouldn’t need a thing once I fell asleep. Already, I was feeling a heaviness suddenly take hold of me. “Very good…” She then paused above me and from her tiny finger movements I could see she was going over a checklist in her head. “Okay… if nothing else now, I wish you a good night and sweet dreams, Pete. I’ll see you after breakfast, okay?” I nodded again. Just as she was turning away though, I managed to spit out a simple “Thank you.” She smiled, nodded, and left the room, leaving me to the subtle darkness of the crib room. Unfortunately, still not used to my diaper and now all alone with my thoughts and feelings, I found it to be soft but bulky and very obvious that I was wearing one. It forced my legs open more than usual and the mattress felt firm… and empty, cold even. I felt alone and I can be mature enough to admit that I was a little afraid. I wasn’t sure why… I had lived on my own for years, and this place seemed to be safe, but the fear was definitely there. Conversely, however, and to my relief, the darkness seemed to blot out most of my thoughts. A few painted stars on the ceiling and a tiny moon nightlight in the corner cast the room in a pale and extremely subtle light. Further, trying to calm my mind, for the first time, I began to hear a twinkling noise of sorts. In and out… peaceful… calming. It wrapped around my ears and head and refused to let go. I felt there might have even been a lullaby attached to it, but I couldn’t make it out. All I knew was despite everything… my discomfort, my fears… all that, I was drifting. Further… and further. Then, nothing but peace and sleep. * * * I’m not sure what made me wake up… maybe it was the greater light in the room now. It could have been the soft crying from a nearby occupant… or the smell of used diapers mixed in with the pervasive lemon, lavender, and baby powder I had been smelling since I stepped foot in Building 4. I wasn’t sure of all that, but when I woke up, I noticed that I had bunched my sheets and was now cuddling with them… almost like I had made my very own… ‘No, Pete… don’t think that. You’re a heavy sleeper, always have been. This was just… getting comfortable. Nothing more…’ I repeated that mantra in my head at least a dozen times. Each one felt more real and less like I was trying to convince myself of something, but the lingering fear of it being something more… that was harder to erase. Horribly, though, it was just enough time for me to realize that my diaper now squished. Yes, squished. Not crinkle, poof from the excess baby powder, or even a single rustle… just squished. Looking down and pushing away my covers, I saw the faded designs of the sports equipment that adorned the cartoon character’s hands were now almost invisible to the naked eye. I couldn’t deny my own eyes or what all my senses were now telling me… I had wet my diaper. It’s a horrible realization when your body betrays you. I saw one of my parents’ friends with MS, and while I was nowhere near that bad, I recognized the same betrayal she described as I felt now. Bodies are fragile and complicated in so many ways, so them not working properly can just be inevitable, but this… wetting my diaper was beyond my control. Like a baby, I had wet myself in my sleep. There was no getting around it and there wasn’t even the slightest chance of denying it. As such, while I felt an immense sadness well up over my body, and I nearly joined my fellow AR in a session of deep wailing at the losses my body continued to pile up, I felt it was moot. It would have only proven how much more of a baby I was to everyone here. Still, when Miss Josie walked in, after first saying “Good morning” to me and she saw my diaper, I could only drop my head in shame. “Oh… it’s okay, Pete. You did nothing wrong, understand?” I could only nod again as she then lifted me up and brought me over to the changing tables in the room. It was horrifying feeling the cold wipes across my groin and backside and I could only be grateful when it was finally done… until I was taken into the shower room. Apparently installed as part of a chemical accident procedure here in the first place, Building 4 had since converted the small room at the very of the hallway into a decent bathhouse. Containing two showers and a tub, I was just grateful when Miss Josie left me in the tub by myself. “Now, Pete…” she began, looking a little apprehensive. “I’m going to give you some privacy. I’ll be right outside the door, so just shout if you need anything. Keeping that in mind though… just know that if you try to run or do any other funny business while one of us has their back on you, we will catch you, and you will lose our favors, understood?” A little worried over her clear threat, I just nodded. “Good. I don’t want to be the bad guy, but I’m putting a lot of trust in you right now. Please don’t make me regret that.” Maybe it was the lack of someone watching me or just the natural luxury of the warm water cascading over my body, but for the first time in almost a day, I felt relaxed. I did have to close my eyes so I wouldn’t see all the bath toys to one end of the bath tub, but it was a good time in there regardless. “Pete? You still okay?” Miss Josie asked a little bit later after I had completely washed my body head to toe. “All good,” I confirmed for her. “I just need to get out and dry…” The door flew open. “No, no, no, Pete,” Miss Josie rapidly shot off at me. “I trust you to be okay in this instance, but I just can’t risk you getting out, slipping, and then whacking your head on the edge of the tub.” Looking over at the tub and to where she gestured at, I saw that one of the corners was nearly at a perfect height to hit me right on the side of my head if I slipped getting out. “Oh... I didn’t even…” I wasn’t even sure what to say to convince Miss Josie that I would be okay and to give me more privacy in the future, so instead, I knew I had to comply yet again. “I’ll remember that. Sorry…” Miss Josie gave me a little hug after that and for a thousand and one reasons, I felt I was betraying myself right then. I was giving into hers and Miss Bea’s demands here. I felt I should be fighting back, but maybe I was losing some mental capacity or that the two had just gotten so good… I just never seemed to truly want to fight back. Yes, there was the fleeting moment of a rise of rebellious hate toward this place, but a quick soothing word or a kindly gesture from either, snapped me right back into complacency. And I guess that’s why I found myself less than 30 minutes later once again sitting at the small plastic table and eating my breakfast. Not wanting to run around in the nude, I didn’t put up with a struggle when Miss Josie diapered and then dressed me. Today, the diaper had firemen on it and my outfit was a red and white striped shirt with some khaki shorts. Simple, but comfortable and did the trick of covering me up. So, sitting and eating my breakfast, I started to not become the only person anymore around here. The other ARs that had spent the night were clearly on the verge of acceptance with this whole place. Not bounced yet, but none of them fought the airplane noises as they were strapped in their highchairs. None of them fought the bottle or the sippy cup and definitely not one of them fought off any of the attendants when they handed them a stuffed animal once they were done. At my little plastic table though, I began to be surrounded by others eating their own breakfast. I was curious who they were, but I soon remembered the burden that taken care of an AR put on any caregiver. For the lucky, it just meant another small mouth to feed, but for the unlucky… they could soon wind up with what was an essentially new baby in their lives, and all that went along with it. For these ARs, it wasn’t hard to see that they didn’t have time in the mornings to eat at home. It wasn’t that they were unloved or anything… they were just likely another unanticipated burden that was difficult for their caregiver to balance with their own previous job. Regardless, my friend group soon showed up and we all gathered around Mr. Daniel as he began the morning routine. Nearly identical to the one in Building 3 that everyone looked at me so funnily when I joined in, but here, when I joined in, it wasn’t weird. In fact, here, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t sing or participate in some way. Staring over to the far corner, even the brooding Ian seemed to be clapping along at some point. Here, I began to feel comfortable for one of the first times during the day. It made me nervous, but the joy I felt inside felt good enough to justify any of that quickly. Being a sunny June day, the attendants all felt that we all could spend more time outside rather than being cooped up in the nursery. Julia seemed hesitant at first, but Luna and Frank eagerly pulled her along. It wasn’t long before both were gushing over the outside. “Feel the breeze, Julia…” Luna said, her wording clear and concise, if not a little dreamy not that she wasn’t experiencing full-blown Infasia. “Take your shoes off if you have to. Connect to the world and feel it beneath you.” “Oh, I don’t know…” Julia bit her lip and quickly looked every bit the nervous toddler she had regressed down to. “Oh, come on Julia,” Jeremy coaxed plopping down in the grass behind the swing sets. “Live a little while you still can! Enjoy the freedom while you even still know what grass even is.” I could see his words stung her a little, but the message was loud and clear to the whole group. No one wanted to say it out loud, but from my perspective so far, Building 4 didn’t seem to have a single case of someone not contracting Infasia… even if it was just a little bit here and there in their lives. Considering what I had seen from the group yesterday though, no one seemed immune in it not affecting their lives. It was a twisty feeling in my gut, but I thought of just about anything else to keep myself from dwelling on it too long. Instead, I decided to plop down and feel the grass with my fingers. “Fine…” She then tossed her shoes off and jumped around in the grass to hopefully satisfy Luna’s pushing. “There. Happy now?” “Do you feel better?” Frank asked directly. “If you did it right, you should feel more free… liberated in a way. Always used to love doing this with my old group. It was…” “Not everyone can be some hippy guy hanging out in a log cabin in the woods, Frank,” Harriet partially sneered from one of the nearby swings. Sitting on it, from her facial expression, I could tell she believed all this was bunk. “True,” he conceded, “but it doesn’t hurt you to try it either. Who knows? Maybe it will take that uptight lawyer’s stick out of your…” “Oh! Oh! Look! A monarch butterfly,” Luna gushed as she pointed to the sizeable but colorful creature. It got within a foot of Frank but then flew off. Still, despite not being there for long, it was enough of a scene that most of us stopped our bickering and decided to simply start getting in touch with our inner nature as well. Being who they were, or at least the limited information I knew about them after yesterday, it didn’t take long before Frank and Luna began describing everything they saw. I half-expected one of them to be a professor of some kind somewhere, especially after they could identify at least ten species’ scientific names by memory. “…and that’s why we need to care much more about mother earth, everyone…” Luna smiled at the group, and while the hippy language and pauses made some of her speech hard to know, the rest was almost impressive. And maybe that was why in the middle of talking about bugs and their importance, she began to more noticeably fade than Frank. “The earth worm is… respons… wespon… wespo… in chawge of…” I could tell Luna was trying to make a go of it, but her mind was becoming too steeply engrossed in Infasia. From what I had seen so far in person and on the news, I knew it was possible to retain some semblance of who you were, but seeing Luna all slack jawed and glassy eyed over the course of the next ten minutes, I knew there was nothing we could do. What’s more, the attendant soon saw her in that state and then took her away. Looking at her uncaring self, I could only sigh and at least be content in the knowledge that she seemed happy now, increased only further when she was set down in the sandbox under a close eye by the attendants grouped over there. Dumping a bucket of sand nearby, her giggles could be heard across the back area. “Why do they take them away?” I questioned as soon as Luna was out of earshot, just in case she could still hear us and remember. “It’s simple, Pete,” Jeremy noted. “Purely a question of safety. Outside there’s so many ways to get hurt… unintentional or otherwise. For the attendants like Miss Bea or Miss Josie, keeping an eye on them is just part of the package deal when we come out here now. Or all intents and purposes, when they get… the ‘I’ word, they’re no better than the ages they’re going to bounce at.” I just nodded at this new information, something that seemed like it was becoming my default action in response to all this madness here now. Seconds later, maybe it was the acceptance of her fate or no longer being distracted by her words, I felt a sharp pain in my bladder. So, learning from last night, I bolted up. “Uh… sorry, guys! I need to… check with management about…” Another pain. “Yeah… bye!” Probably looking like a lunatic as I bolted away, I didn’t care. I needed to pee and nothing else mattered! Fortunately, Miss Bea, true to her word had come right after breakfast, so naturally, she was out here and watching over all of us. Seeing me run toward her, she seemed to have a sixth sense of some sort and already gave me a look like she knew what was happening. The other attendants next to her did as well. “Pete? Is something wrong?” Right then, feeling the immense pressure as I squirmed in place, I wondered if I should even tell her and deal with all this or break a rule and run before, during, and after either… desperate not to stop and have an accident. Not wanting to face the consequences though, I squirmed a little more, almost losing the battle right then. “I… I hafta pee!” “Oh!” I could see the panic immediately bloom on her face. “Sorry everyone. Duty calls!” Like Miss Josie had done, she then hoisted me with my armpits and raced over to the building and through the main area. Owing to a few chairs and a closed door to the bathroom with the training potty, however, transportation to the stall and potty proved to be more than my tiny bladder could handle. So, bursting forth, for the second time today, I had a wet diaper. “Oh, Pete…” It was a straightforward and even mournful stance towards me when she likely realized what was happening after I let out a tiny and defeated gasp. Unlike almost a day ago now, despite being almost the same person, I had wet myself on accident and to my pleasant surprise, nothing leaked in the slightest. But as soon as I felt that joy… I felt tremendous loss for even thinking that in the first place. No matter the positives, I couldn’t get over the fact that I had just wet my diaper. Fear, anger, frustration, envy… I felt them all. It felt like everything was converging on that point, but it was weird. Something so major to me was almost… nothing in comparison with everyone else here. Then, whether I wanted it or not, tears began to fall. Outside, even at Building 2, I would have been seen as a freak and a wimp. Here though, I was just another AR who was crying now and who now needed a diaper change. For her part, Miss Bea, having set me down inside, began to slowly approach me after a minute or so as I began to cry there. She had no words this time… only actions. So, when she got closer, I began to feel like a normal human instead of some little baby around here. Of course, maybe unconsciously at first, I began to notice a pattern. Every few seconds, she moved a little more. Worrying about what an accident during the daytime meant… or if I had just completely boxed myself out of ever wearing pull-up again, I didn’t notice her get closer. By the time I did though, she was right in front of me. Creeping even closer though, she finally revealed her true intentions and gave me a big hug. “There, there,” she coaxed as she began to rub my back in circles for comfort. “It’ll be okay, Pete. Just wait. I’ll take care of you here. You have absolutely nothing to be worried about or ashamed about. You couldn’t help it, and in the end, that’s why you’re here.” Moving on to gliding her fingers through my hair, she continued. “Out there, they might judge you… even hurt you because they’re stupid or afraid of what they don’t understand. Here, well…” She paused for a moment and gave me a gentle but firm squeeze. “I just want you to be happy in your new life, Pete. So, right now, if you need to cry, go ahead and cry.” They were simple but powerful words. It was a freedom that I had months ago taken completely for granted. I was still a mess, but my emotions began to calm, and my tears became a trickle rather than a torrent. For Miss Bea, it was just enough where she could pick me up and march me right into the changing room of the bathroom. Sitting back again in the same spot I had started all this off with just yesterday, I couldn’t help but get a little introspective. I told my parents yesterday that ‘I didn’t belong here.’ It was simple enough, but the statement never faded from my mind. It should have been my war cry here, smashing crayons as I went on destroying every inch of this place, but maybe it was the simple notion of not feeling something how I used to. That might have been scary… almost like losing a piece of my mind, but now… I felt like I was giving up… but… maybe I did belong here? From an outside perspective, I might have just sounded like I had lost my mind. Possibly true, but I knew that self-deception never led to anywhere positive in my life before all this. Additionally, I started to weigh the facts against my own ego. Yes, it had taken a hit with the likes of Ian and Butch and all, but it had a logical side to it as well that usually served pretty well. On the mental front, I felt like myself, but I started to notice little slips here and there. Most had been connected to a period of regression, where things were either confusing or played into something childish. It wasn’t enough for me to start panicking, but it wasn’t nothing either. Worse though, was the physical front. I was still regressing, and looking down on the whole wiping process, shuddering a bit at the cold wipe there, it was hard to argue against wearing a diaper. One’s mind could have been screwed up before all this, and I wouldn’t have put it past a few around here for that to be the case, but physical regression was obvious. Looking around and thinking back to all that I had done in the past days, it was hard not to come to a single conclusion and question of myself: maybe I did belong here? It filled me with a dread I could never truly describe, but I knew it was there. Worse, if it was there, thinking back to less than thirty minutes ago, I could end up like Luna… freely babbling about as she dumped sand everywhere and didn’t care about it for a single second. Only time would tell, but seeing my life right then, I knew I was at a crossroads. One way, and I could be fine in all this… another and I was doomed. For now, as Miss Bea taped the last tape into place, I could just be happy that my diaper change was finally over.

Hey everyone! I just wanted to take this moment to thank all of you for your wonderful comments and your personal reading of this story. Not being part of the diaper dimension, I always feel those can take a bit of risk on here, but you all have proven this story to be more than that assumption. I write for myself, and that makes all this fun, but seeing your like of this story is no small matter either. So, again, I thank you all deeply. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 16: Welcome To Your Last Stop… “Now, don’t be shy, Pete,” Gina coaxed as she walked in and yet I was pretty stuck at the entrance of the door. Looking up and then into the dreaded Building 4, it was like what I imagined stepping off onto a distant planet for the first time felt like. But grabbing my hand, she pulled me in. I nearly stumbled, but my eyes still fixated on the décor and size of everything in here. Sure, in Mrs. Middleton’s and Mr. Aguilar’s class, the chairs were shorter and there was some art on the walls, but there was almost a sense of maturity there as well. For the ages it catered to, it almost seemed more like how theme parks decorate for both kids and adults. Seeing the inside here, there was little to no effort made on that front. Wall murals of cartoon characters danced about on grassy hills under rainbows, a sun, and little puffs of happy clouds. Colorful music notes and birds swirled about on another wall while clearly AR-crafted art projects hung on yet another. Seeing the scribbles and rough cuts of the construction paper and finger painting, it chilled me to my core that this is where I was going to be spending large hours of my day from now on. Building 2 had briefly touched on those types of projects, but here, there seemed to be a pride of sorts to them, rather than as a last resort or as something to be avoided for most of the class. “Oh, hello, Gina,” an older gray-haired lady said from behind the front desk. Like a clinic, a sort of check-in desk held the bulk of one wall opposite the front entrance. On both the desk’s sides, I saw a single door. The one on the right was labeled ‘Offices and Bathrooms,’ and the one on the left was labeled ‘Nursery and Daycare.’ Seeing that, my gut immediately seized in fear and dread for what was to come. “What brings…?” The older lady, who I guessed was the receptionist here stopped and stood up a little bit. I guess I was too short to be seen by her fully. “Oh! Looks like we might have a new buddy here, huh?” I could feel the color and life drain from my face. Almost as if on instinct, I pulled into Gina a little more. I didn’t care what it looked like. Despite the colorful and friendly atmosphere that looked like a craft project had suddenly exploded in the middle of it, I was intimidated… no, terrified. Maybe due to that, the gray-haired lady giggled a little and Gina stroked my back. “Yes. I’m afraid so, Gladys. It seems Pete here had a little accident… and he’s a B as well.” That last part was said as more of a whisper, like somehow it was supposed to be a secret of a hidden shame. I really couldn’t decide which was more likely here. Gladys looked down at me more closely and smiled sympathetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Her words seemed genuine and kind, but I just couldn’t shake off a feeling of dread here. “Now then… let’s get you started in our system here and then we can get you sorted, okay?” I could barely just nod. She smiled once more and then sat back in her seat. A few clicks and clacks from her computer there later and she stood back up. “Let’s see… what are you? Four maybe five, dear?” I honestly wasn’t entirely sure. Slipping under my school age, my mom’s school bus photo frame of my school pictures wasn’t helping me make a comparison anymore. I had insisted on younger photos, but my parents had most of those stored away, apart from a handful we kept around the house or for special occasions. They might have helped but dressing up as the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz when I was five… my makeup got in the way and hadn’t been much use to me. So, I just grimaced and tried to think of an answer quickly. Fortunately, Gina was more than ready to supply an answer. “Mark him down as five, Gladys. I think he could be younger, but it’s hard to say for sure with the way his ARV is handling itself. Sometimes it’s a year every week and a half, but sometimes it looks closer to a year every three weeks instead.” Maybe it was my petrified silence, but despite the questions being directed toward me, I felt like I was increasingly being talked about rather than to. “And have you been having many… accidents lately, Pete? Or do you prefer Peter or Petey instead?” Her questions were pretty straightforward before that, but placing so much emphasis on my accident made me want to just be swallowed whole by the earth. I tried to sputter out an answer, but I wasn’t making much headway. “He seems to like Pete. Definitely not Peter, though, and nothing visible so far,” Gina jumped in again. Attached to Dr. Faulkner’s office, she knew more about my condition than she would have as just the school nurse here, especially with my avoidance of her clinic as much as possible. “A few close calls apparently, but this is the first major one here and I suspect at home as well. Is that right, Pete?” Still barely able to register any of this, I could only nod my head. “I understand. Thank you, Gina.” She then turned her attention down to me. “And Pete… it’s okay that you had an accident here. I know it must be terribly embarrassing for you, but you’re in a safe place now. No one around here is going to judge you, okay?” Before I had a chance to respond though, the back to door from the nursery and daycare opened and out strolled a honey-blonde-haired woman with piercing green eyes. “Yes, Gladys? You needed someth…” Her gaze then cast over to Gina and then down to me. “Oh, Gina. I didn’t see you there. I take it we have another for our ranks here?” Gina nodded and gently pushed me forward. “That’s right. This here is Pete. Pete, say hello to Beatrice.” Beatrice stepped closer and bent down slightly to meet my gaze. I stumble a little, but I finally managed to make out a faint “Hello…” Beatrice just smiled. “Oh, aren’t you just the most precious thing ever.” I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks already. The three women giggled briefly as I wilted under their gaze. Smiling back, Beatrice offered her hand to shake, which I did my best to shake without trembling. “Welcome to Building 4, Pete. My name is Beatrice, but you can call me Bea or Miss Bea. Any of them work, and honestly, if you let out a good shout or cry, I’ll probably come running anyway, okay? Can you say my name, Pete?” I groaned inwardly a little at the sudden burst of childish cadence being directed at me now, but being here, I knew I just had to expect that kind of thing now. Oddly though, it made me feel a little less scared to be here. “Okay… Miss Bea.” “Well, that just sounds perfect.” She then righted herself back up and looked back at Gladys. “We’re going to go in my office and do the… other things. In the meantime, can you get Pete’s paperwork all loaded up on our system so he’s all ready to go for his first day here?” “Right away, Miss Bea,” she said dutifully. Honestly, I half-expected her to salute back. But my thoughts were snapped to a halt when Miss Bea looked intensely back at me. “Okay, Pete. We need to go to my office for a second. I know sometimes ARs coming through the door can be shocked, in the midst of an Infasia episode, or just too scared to move. Do you need me to carry you?” I had never even thought about that option before, pretty much only using my two legs to get around… despite a few teachers looking at me seemingly like they wanted to previously. Still, it felt like a step too far, and looking down, just a bad idea in general. “No… I’m all wet, and… no.” Miss Bea sighed and nodded. “Well, that’s okay, Pete. Maybe another time, but just always know that option is available to you if you need it. Also, so you know… don’t worry about if you’re wet or not. It’s my job here to care for you no matter what… even if that means I get a little wet as well, okay?” I only nodded, and seemingly good enough, Miss Bea gently coaxed me and Gina into the door on the right of Gladys’ front desk. Through the hallway, I saw three doors on the left and three on the right. Before stopping in the middle of the hallway, Miss Bea turned around and crouched low in front of me. “Okay, Pete. Now, I know this might be hard to hear, and if you need to cry, scream, yell, or anything else besides hit me, you can do that, but you should know… any first arrivals into this building require diapers.” The sentence I had long been dreading was finally here. “It’s less a reflection on you yourself, and more just school policy,” she admitted. “Yes, you were admitted here due to an accident, but you are also a B, which means it might have just been a single fluke. Still, we don’t take chances around here, so, right now, I need to put you in one. Does that make sense?” Her words were firm but understanding and calm. I was surprised she was so loose about how I would react. I was half expecting to be given a spiel about ‘babies are seen but not heard.’ So, maybe it was on purpose, but I felt a little more at ease, hoping now that I would still be treated as a person… just one with more specialized needs. “I…” Still, it was hard not to get a little emotional about it. “I understand.” Miss Bea then nodded and pushed open one of the doors on the left. Inside, I saw another door on the other side and even a small sink and toilet and training potty. My hopes briefly surged, and I think Miss Bea saw me. “Yes, we have one of those. I’m afraid it doesn’t get much use here, but if you prove to either myself or one of the other attendants that you can be trusted, we may allow you to wear pull-ups. You have to always prove that you can handle them, but we do allow for it while we can.” “I…” I wanted to get my hopes up. I could already feel a swelling warmth in my chest over even the stupid tiny possibility of the prospect of using pull-ups and a training potty. I should have been more resentful that it was the best my new life had to offer, but I couldn’t help it. “Thank you for telling me…” I was still trying to be as mature as I could, and while it was hard with the prominent emotional lump in my throat, it seemed to be working… despite what I could only see as amused smiles from both Miss Bea and Gina. “No problem, Pete. Now,” she stared down at me before dropping low and tentatively placing her hands around me but still about an inch away from touching me, “do I have your permission to pick you up so we can do this? I’m sure those shorts feel awfully icky right now.” I stared down at my still wet shorts and could only nod mournfully at how painfully obvious they were to the whole world. Curiously, I almost forgot they were wet, but my curiosity faded quickly when Miss Bea picked me up and laid me down on the changing table. Almost like they had practiced this plenty of times before, almost as a dance, Miss Bea positioned herself by my waist and Gina positioned herself by my head. “Now, Pete, for today, I figured you might want a familiar face during this first process of getting you into a diaper. I know it must be pretty difficult, and I want this to be as easy as possible. I’ll still change you into a diaper, seeing as I will be one of the ones responsible for keeping you clean and dry here, but for now, I think she might help you, okay?” I could only nod back. Taking her cue, Miss Bea quickly stripped me of all my clothing. She was clearly an expert, and while my shirt and socks and shoes weren’t anything to squawk at, my shorts and underwear quickly whisked away caused me to shiver and shy away. Likely seeing my immediate discomfort, Gina swooped in and grabbed my hands around my chest. In retrospect, I think she might have also been there as a precautionary restraint… just in case, but her words soothed my mind beyond anything else right then. “Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Pete. Let Miss Bea do her job, and this will be over before you know it.” And to my shock, despite what it entailed, it was. With the speed of someone who had been doing this multiple times a day and for years, if not a decade or two, her supplies were prepped and ready to go. As soon as my almost involuntary whimper died down, she went right to work, quickly wiping me all over. It was humiliating to say the least, but there were no giggles or taunts like I had had in a few recent nightmares since the camping trip. True to their kind faces, Gina and Miss Bea only cooed and tried to keep me calm. If it wasn’t for what was actually going on beyond that, everything they were doing would have almost been relaxing. Still, a crinkling sound brought me back to my senses and better judgement of what was happening. Looking down beyond my tiny body, I saw Miss Bea rapidly unfolding a diaper, emblazoned with a variety of cartoon characters on the front. Thick, crinkly, and babyish… I’m pretty sure a tiny part of my soul died right then as I saw what was about to be placed around me. But sticking to her established routine, Miss Bea then effortlessly raised my legs and slid the disposable garment underneath me. It was soft and I could already feel its thickness spread around my bottom, causing me to blush what I’m sure were several shades of red. Still, a quick dusting of baby powder later, I was clean, refreshed, and ready for the final step… which Miss Bea attended to. Folding the front up through my legs and down on my front, she taped it into place and then checked the seams for a good fit and made sure the leak guards were firmly in place. And so, for the first time in 25 years, I was once again diapered. “There,” Miss Bea said with some satisfaction as she patted the front of my new diaper. “All clean and dry.” Her smile was infectious, and maybe it was some psychological trickery, but seeing that and hearing her voice, made me feel, even for a little bit, that everything was okay. “But just to make sure, does it feel good? Not too tight or pinching anywhere?” I suspected she knew that it was fine, but I guessed that she was doing it as more of an emotional check than anything, so I answered about as best I could. “It’s… fine… thank you.” She smiled even wider. “And so well-mannered,” she gushed to Gina. Gina smiled and nodded before easing me up into more of a seated position. “Definitely. Pete is one of our better students. Was even involved with… you know who…” She didn’t say who, but I was really only known for one thing around here, and apparently, from the serious look on Miss Bea’s face, I could tell she absolutely knew what that was. “I see… I’ll have to keep that in mind…” While part of Miss Bea seemed to look proud, another part looked concerned… but only for a moment. “Now! Let’s get you all dressed for the day.” She turned around and rifled through a cabinet before producing a se of clothing on a hanger. “So, I heard you were on the tee ball team, so what about this?” It was a very basic outfit. Really just a pair of black drawstring shorts and a white t-shirt with a baseball almost looking like it was smashing through the shirt after hitting a can of paint. It seemed childish, but nothing to the degree that I was so worried about before. “That’s… fine…” Miss Bea smiled, and getting Gina’s assistance, I was soon dressed in the outfit. While they put on my little white socks and shoes, I ju9st dawned on me that I was so despondent over today’s turn of events that I hadn’t even protested not dressing myself. Although, seeing the diaper bulge through my shorts, I wondered if that was now a moot point here. Helping me off the table, and then washing our hands, Miss Bea stopped in the outside hallway once more and nodded to Gina from the exit back to the front area. Crouching down, she smiled and took my hands. “Okay, Pete. It’s time for me to go, okay? Miss Bea is going to look after you now, so you just listen to what she says, and you’ll do fine here.” Looking down, her hands made quick effort of removing my previously coveted baseball wristband, a token of the friends I had made in Building 3. Like them, it all seemed to vanish in seconds. “I want you to feel safe here, but if you ever need it, I’m always available for you to talk to, okay?” Nodding, and not even thinking about it, I collapsed into a hug with her. When I first met her, I was about an inch or two taller than her. Now, only crouched down were we close to even being equal in height. Regardless, the hug felt good, but after a small rub to my back, she back backed away and stood back up, signaling our time was at an end. Propping the door open, she then waved goodbye and exited out of the building. Looming above, Miss Bea leaned out the hallway door and looked to Gladys. “Gladys? Has Pete been transferred into our records yet?” “Yes, Miss Bea.” Her eyes then scanned to my small form. “Oh, and don’t you look all handsome. Probably feel a lot better too I’d imagine.” I didn’t respond, and both laughing, Miss Bea just gently guided me away and back through the hallway. Stopping outside the doors, she gestured to each. The names attached to the side of each door frame were a little far away for me to read, but I saw the three doors, each center marked with their own logo of some kind. The first had a few colorful blocks, the second had a teddy bear, and the third had a musical note, paint brush, and scissors all crossed and mixed together. “So, today, I want you to get comfortable in this building, but first, I need to lay out a few peculiars we have here. First, like Building 2, we’re also split up into groups. While they mix with each other a lot more here, it helps us to be better organized and better able to take care of you all. So, as you can see here, there are three.” She then gestured to each. “The block group tends to focus on more of the technical and scientific aspects of life, while the music note, paint brush, and scissors represent the more creative sides. As you can see, I’m with the creative group. In fact, I’m in charge of it,” she said showing me a pin of the same symbol on the door and with no small amount of pride. “And the teddy?” I asked, staring at the single large brown symbol on the door above me. “Oh, right. That’s more for the ones less dedicated to something in particular,” she explained while kind of skirting around my question as well. “It’s like the undecided majors in college. They do a little of everything and when the time is right, we help them find their focus.” Almost like she wanted to move on, she then opened her door and gestured me to go inside. Closing the door, she quickly pulled me up and then sat me in a booster seat of sorts in one of the chairs facing her desk. It was a little awkward, but owing to my height recently, I was actually a little glad of it here, especially when she sat down and then turned her screen a little bit more towards me. Scanning it over, I couldn’t help but look down at the bulky garment between my thighs now. No matter how much I tried to squirm, the diaper bulge or the feeling of the thickness of it just wouldn’t go away. Even my legs felt more compelled to bow a little by its presence. Finally, I had to poke at the cursed thing… at least until Miss Bea turned back to me. “Okay, I think all this looks good… yep! Confirmed placement on the creative team. Wrist please.” I complied quickly and soon, another wristband was strapped on me, this time with the symbol of creativity I was now becoming very familiar with. “Perfect fit.” She then turned her computer back towards her before folding her hands then leaning closer to me. “Now, a few things we need to go over. The biggest… until we feel you’re more… settled, you won’t be going home for a little bit.” “I…” It was one thing to be demoted to this place, but now it was feeling like an inescapable prison. “Why not? Can’t I see my parents?” I could already frustratingly feel my lower lip start to wobble. Miss Bea sighed. “I wish we could do it another way, but we’ve been proven wrong just too many times now. You all need a place to adapt to the several changes in your lives. At home, you could be happy for a little bit, but how long would that last? Too many times, we’ve seen cases of neglect, abandonment, and abuse… even with the families that once seemed so loving and utterly devoted to their AR.” Her eyes then briefly flicked to the screen. “And take for instance, just one factor… what about Amanda? I have a few notes in here about her… do you really think she would be so warm and accepting of a new baby brother? Not that you are, but do you think a… five-year-old is going to differentiate that for you?” Her words were quick and powerful. I was helpless to nod along and follow each of them. Her caring logic was beyond my scrutiny, and it didn’t take long for the initial gut punch that was staying here to only die to a simmer. Going home would have introduced so many variables that I just couldn’t account for right now. Here, it might not have been home, but everyone else was in pull-ups, a supposed rarity, diapers, or caring for us. The more I thought about it, the more this once full accursed place seemed more like a sanctuary… at least against my home life. After all, I wasn’t even comfortable with my current ‘underwear.’ Soon, my mind began to swirl about the prospect of going home. I mean… how would I be at home with everything else there I would have to contend with? Would my mom treat me like her son or just another baby to care for? Would Amanda step all over me and maybe even cause a breakdown to plummet me into the depths of regression? There were just simply too many questions I didn’t know the answers to. “No…” I said sadly, shaking my head. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to go home… not with…” I wanted to say Amanda specifically, but I decided against it and just flinched briefly under the possibilities if I did end up choosing to go home… if somehow it even became an option. “That’s what I thought.” Her face, once full of concern and warning, became its previous bright and cheery visage once more. “And don’t think of this place like a prison. Think of it more like a place where you can be you. For almost everyone here, this is the last stop. Here, there shouldn’t be any fear of dropping down to the next building. We don’t even break you all up into age groups here. We have a simple, see a need, fill a need’ philosophy. Here, we want you all to be happy and relaxed as you reach your final bounced age. Whether that’s a day from now or six months from now. It doesn’t matter… only your happiness.” “Almost everyone?” I asked, picking up on the one part of her seemingly well-rehearsed speech that gave me pause. Miss Bea smirked. “Picked up on that, huh?” I nodded adamantly. “Well, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that, but not trying to hide anything from you, Pete… there are two other buildings outside of Linfield. The first is more of a disciplinary school meant for those that have been deemed to be unfit for Linfield. Simply put, most of our violent offenders or previous unreformed criminals go there. For example, I’m sure you know of Butch… right?” It was a rhetorical question. We both knew that I knew full-well who Butch was. So, only pausing briefly, smiling a little, she moved on. “So, seeing your file, I highly doubt you would end up there. And the other building…” Her face temporarily turned cloudy and regretful. “It’s for our roughly newborn to three-month-olds. It’s pretty rare and there’s only one for about a sixty-mile radius around here. Looking at your diagnosis though, we almost always would know if you were to end up in that range by now… even if you are just ‘under three’ right now.” She sighed again, and this time, I could tell she was about to say something that was going to affect me. “Looking at those records though… it seems you do fall into the age range where you might see some mental regression. For all we know, it could be part of the virus, or just a coping technique to deal with stress and not fry the brain. Either way though, you should be prepared for that possibility and just know, if or when it happens, we will take care of you with dignity and respect, okay?” Infasia. She was talking about Infasia, but it seemed like a dirty word the more I regressed lately. People like Bradley and Ned, as confirmed by Dr. Smothers, were stress-induced, but I knew others like Sammy were more virus-based. Regardless, it scared me to my core, and I could only nod in terror at even the possibility of losing my grip on my mind. I started to get the opinion that Miss Bea was able to read people pretty well, so staring at me for a second, she moved on. “So, two last things. First, we are already in contact with your family about your stay here. They’ll visit you as desired or needed or scheduled, and we will keep them up to date on your progress… as well as when you can go home. Make sense?” “Yes…” I was truly dreading the moment that I was going to see them again. Thinking back to staying here, I was more and more convinced that staying was the right thing. “Good!” She then wheeled her chair over to me and spun my chair to face her directly. “And lastly, while you’re here, I’ll be one of your personal caretakers. And, due to the demands I know the virus has, I can even extend my services beyond these walls, for example, as a sitter one night for you.” My heart froze and I didn’t even think of that possibility yet again, having been trusted enough previously to stay home on my own. Feeling my diaper press against me, like some reminder from the pits of the world, I knew that wasn’t going to happen anymore. “So, as such, I want us to be friends, Pete,” she noted. “We’re going to be in this together and while I know things are tough here on several levels, please be good for me. So far, you’ve been nothing but a prince for me, and I really appreciate that. And while I’ll always try to put my best foot forward, you continue your respect to me, and I’ll give you all the hugs, kisses, and treats you could ever want, okay?” It was a lot to take in and I was feeling kind of numb at that point. Still, her words meant a lot to me… namely that while her voice had a sing-song quality to it, she wasn’t talking to me like I was dumb either. Sure, the conversation was about babysitters and treats and staying here in the daycare, but I felt like an adult on some level, and for now, that mattered a great deal to me. “Okay, Miss Bea. I’ll try my best.” Placing her hand on my arm, she smiled. “That’s wonderful to hear, Pete.” She then stood up and smiled widely. “Now, let’s go take a quick tour and you can begin your first day here, okay?” I nodded, and without any warning, she hoisted me up… but this time, she didn’t set me back down. Oddly, it kind of felt nice to have a higher view of the world once more. In a way, it was almost… nostalgic… at least if I ignored my diaper now pressing against her side. Still, she was very thorough when it came to all of Building 4. The doors to the bathrooms led to the other side and into the nursery. Moving through the door on the left of Gladys’ front desk, we saw another series of rooms, such as the kitchen, storage area, and one called the quiet room. “It’s pretty simple,” Miss Bea explained when I asked about it. “It can be used for a variety of purposes like an upset AR who just needs to let something out or… drifts off.” “And that’s it?” I asked skeptically. “Well… pretty much…” Like my instincts had been telling me before, I could see there was something else about it, and my anxiety started to plague my thoughts with all sorts of possibilities… especially when she noted the final thing about it. “I wouldn’t worry about it honestly… at least not until later, okay?” I could only nod, but like a sleeping giant, I felt its true unspoken purpose would be unleashed in the worst of ways on me, as she said, later. Finally, we moved into the final room. What was essentially just a large play area, it was divided into sections with a few partial walls to separate them out from each other while still maintaining open sightlines all throughout. There were the doors that led to the bathrooms, another door that led to the ‘Sleeping and Nap Room,’ and one that led to the rear of the building, but the rest were a series of windows or walls. Again, colorful murals of fantasy characters and goofy cartoon animals in various states of play dotted each wall and even the windows were brightly decorated with stickers. It was a wondrous, if not depressing room, particularly when noticing the occupants. True to the name, there seemed to be few differentiating factors between Building 4 and a nursery or daycare anywhere else. Still, Miss Bea then brought me to a series of cubbies recessed along one of the far hidden walls in a room clearly designed for art projects. While clean, random spots of splattered paint marked cabinets, storage bins, and the ceiling… all seemingly remnants of activities in here gone by. “Okay, Pete,” she said, gesturing to one of the cubbies. “This one is yours. It’s got your name on the inside here if you ever forget but just ask us as well if you need to.” Like many of the things she said, again, there was an unspoken bit she was leaving out. In this case, asking one of the attendants here because as an AR, there was a real possibility of losing the ability to read. I dreaded that possibility now more than most others but just nodded along and decided not to dwell on it… for now. After, the tour was basically done, so, with a little prompting, Miss Bea let me loose into my new home… now realizing that I meant that both metaphorically and literally with the notion of having to spend my nights here for the foreseeable future. Still, I scanned the room to see if I could make anyone out well enough to attempt to waddle over and say hello. To my relief, I saw at least two. I hated the crinkle eliciting from my shorts, but I eventually made it over to Jeremy… and Harriet. “Hey you two!” I decided to go for more of an eager and happy approach to seeing my friends once more. I was sad enough already today without adding another component to that. “Pete? Iss dat you?” Harriet asked, her speech clearly had been impacted since she had first come here so long ago now. Despite that and the fact she should have been seven if it weren’t for Butch’s cruelty, she seemed to have bounced around a little over two years old. “Awe you bwind, Harriet?” Jeremy asked, a few of his missing teeth now getting in the way of his speech as well. “Of couwse iss Pete. He pwobabwy had an accident’ jus’ wike the west of us, wigh’ Pete?” I grimaced a little over the question, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever, so instead, I smacked my butt, letting out more of a thumping noise due to my new padding. “Yep. Miss Bea did it. Got pushed over earlier by some bullies and… well, you know.” “You went pee-pee in your pants, huh?” I looked over to the new voice and saw a roughly year and a half or two-year-old girl smiling back at me. Squinting a little, she looked very familiar. Probably seeing me squint at her, Jeremy put his hand on my shoulder and gestured over to her. “Pete, dis is Julia.” Finally, it clicked in my head. It was the same Julia from that I had seen from my group in Building 2… the same that had been so close with Diane. “Oh, I’ve heard about you before,” I noted. “Friends with Diane, Jake, Phil…” “Phil?” Harriet piped up. Several of the group laughed over her evidently continued crush, and while I gave a chuckle, knowing each of their fates and Phil’s backstory now, it was all I could muster. “Diane… yeah…” Julia drifted off a little, and while she still smiled, her eyes seemed more unfocused now. “Julia?” I questioned, almost tempted to poke her to see if she was still in there. But not a second before I did, I heard a little hissing noise coming from her direction. Concerned over her well-being, I spoke up to get the attention of an attendant. “Excuse me? I think…” “Wet ih’ go, Pete,” Jeremy said with a sigh, pulling my hand down. “We’re almost all in diapers and they can take a beating. She can wait to get changed, and besides, she’s not really with it anymore.” He paused and his insinuation was clear: Infasia. “Was it something I said, or…” I stared back at the person I had heard so much about before. She was the life of the party but caring towards animals and a good friend. Now… “Does she do this often?” Jeremy shrugged. “Hawd to say, weally… A wot of time iss when she heaws abou’ Diane… I feel wike dey wewe somethin’ mo’.” His words were a bit broken, and I knew that was something I was going to have to get used to in them, and sadly, my future as well, but I got the gist. “Oh… that sucks…” “Evwyone’s got a stowy…” another unknown AR noted, looking around just under the year and a half mark, his hair notably having taken a hit along with his now-present chubby cheeks. “Pete… dis is Frank…” He then gestured to the two-year-old girl lying up next to him. “An’ to save time, befo’ you ask, dat’s Luna. Been hewe foevuh’.” “So, this is the new group, huh?” I asked a little later after a few more introductions. “Seems… smaller somehow…” Jeremy smirked. We had never been close, but with our closer ages now, especially with me seemingly just starting to slow down in my own regression, I felt we were about to become a whole lot closer. After all, I felt I needed a good friend in this potentially trying place. “Yeah… hawd to build somethin’ wike we had in Buildin’ 2 wiff us fu… fug… ugh! Wegwessin’ up hewe all da time.” With him pointing to his head, it was clear he was trying to originally talk about her fugued state, or Infasia. “Buh’ don’ go wondrin’ off on youw own. Iss notta good idea…” “And why’s that?” I looked around and couldn’t see any immediate threats at least. “What’s the big deal in a place like this that’s half covered in either foam padding or some kind of safety appliance?” “Ian…” It was just one word, but I could already feel a cold chill running up my spine as Jeremey looked back at me with pure dread. “He got popped in hewe an’ he’s not da same, buh’ neithu awe we. Pwus, he’s been twyin’ to find out who was agains’ him dat goh’ him sen’ hewe. Las’ week… he said youw name, so be vewy caweful, Pete.” It was just about the worst news I could have heard today, and given my current location and undergarment, that was saying something. Gulping, I knew I had to know more. “How’d he find out? Is it just a guess or does he know… like really know?” Jeremy shrugged but Frank spoke up after a sigh. “I don’ know, buh’ he knows… He weally knows, Pete.” My stomach sank at the prospect of my past now coming back to haunt me here. I looked around and couldn’t see him, but I just hoped this place had at least tamed him. Still, as we continued to talk and most of the group, besides Jeremy and I fugued at one point or another, I started to grow curious about a snitch. Snapping out of her own stupor, Harriet nodded when I asked. “Wumoh’ iss dat a pewson of da ’87 gwoup is hewe. Noh’ suwe who, buh’…” “Wait!” I foolishly interrupted. “Do you all know something about…?” All of a sudden, a large wail came from the other side of the room. An attendant quickly hurried over and started to soothe them but then held them away from their body a little bit. “It’s okay. Just a blow-out here. I’ve got this one.” Another attendant chuckled. “Well, better you than me, Josie.” Josie glared back at him. “Well, after you’ve been so kind to assist me lately, Daniel, the next big old super poopy one has got your name on it.” Like handling an undetonated bomb, she hurried across the room, dodging several drooling ARs below her. He groaned but then put his hands on his hips while she went about changing the ARs diaper on the far wall where at least four changing tables were set up. To my horror, no privacy was given to them. “Easy there… I am technically your boss, you know?” After that, I doubled my efforts to tune them out. It was the reality of my situation now, and even a quick inspection of my new group was almost enough to confirm that. Of the five members, even a quick inspection revealed that everyone was heavily diapered. A quick smell, even above the lavender and baby powder smell, I knew that someone nearby was more than just wet, as it appeared that most of the group was now. With Jeremy drifting off a little himself, and most of the others still in the throws of their own Infasia or just coming out, I looked around the room to see my new companions more thoroughly. Again, it was hard to distinguish this place from almost any other in the whole country… except when one looked more closely and opened up your ears. True, pacifiers, stuffed animals, bottles or sippy cups, and all manner of toys were strewn about and being actively played with, but for every two or three of them, there was one that didn’t fit with the norm. Paying attention to them closely, I was just able to make out laughs and gestures that seemed positively adult. Listening in, their conversations even ranged from politics to sports to economy to their own lives in some of what I could overhear. The only problem was that most, in the span of a few minutes could be just miniaturized versions of themselves and then wind up drooling or giggling all over the ground while an attendant tickled their belly, or they entertained themselves with a cuddly stuffy or even just their own toes. It wasn’t much compared to everything else, but just the simple transition from something so mature and dignified to something so… babyish, reminded me that I was on the same path they were. Coming to Building 4 and seeing the others now, it seemed more like an inevitability of Infasia here rather than a mere possibility… and that scared me more than anything else.

Hey everyone! So, originally, we were just supposed to jump from chapter 12 right into this one. Looking back, I know why I was doing that, but it felt way too rushed for Building 3. I knew the place had some potential and once I fleshed out the ending chapters a little more, I felt I needed more of a push here first. I also realized that I changed one of the characters pretty significantly and needed someone to replace them. I won’t say who exactly, but I’m sure most of you will be able to figure it out soon enough. Next, and just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 15: A Bunch of Whoopsies… Uh, I Mean Problems “Breaking news! Pampers and other diaper-based companies have reported record-breaking profits but the sudden new increases in demand can’t be met this quarter. Fears of diaper shortages, however, were put to rest earlier this morning when several new diaper companies, some from the strangest of places, have announced new diaper lines to fill in the current gaps. Amongst some of the stranger of these new companies were Lego, Hershey, and even Toyota.” I rolled my eyes and quickly switched the channel. Ever since the country had plummeted into the midst of ARV, diaper shortages and new companies was anything but ‘breaking news.’ In fact, it was getting a little boring. News was boring… death here, a crisis there, and maybe the occasional fluff piece, but it was just feeling like the same old, same old. So, reclining on the couch, I made sure to switch the channel to something more humorous instead. And that was a perfectly normal thing to do. Despite both my parents making jokes a few weeks ago when I started to find the news boring, I just didn’t want to watch it anymore. ‘And was that really such a bad thing?’ Comedies were far more my speed, and I always left with a smile on my face rather than an urge to hit something or go cry in a pillow somewhere. “Sweetie?” my mom called from the kitchen. “Can you be a dear and turn down the volume for me? It’s a little loud.” I groaned but complied with her request. It was pretty typical lately, because frankly, most other activities were just getting a little too difficult. And that was the weird thing about all this as well. I was regressing… my reflection and my weight proved that well enough, but when most kids are this age, they don’t mind playing with stuffed animals, or they have play groups, or one of a dozen other things to do. I mean, right now, my sister was off on her playdate with her friends from school. My friends would be getting together later to watch one of the football games… but I wasn’t sure if I was going today. It felt too far away from my current life, and I wasn’t a fan of being the ‘youngest’ in the group anymore. Last week, we noticed Jeremy acting a little strange. Lately, that was just par for the course for him and Sammy, but this time felt different. For almost an hour, Jeremy seemed… like an actual kid. Giggling, running about, stupid jokes that would have made any ‘dad joke’ seem like the joke of the century by comparison… he had it all. Jeremy had always been a little off ever since I met him, but this felt like a whole new level. Then, about ten minutes into recess, Jeremy froze… and wet his shorts. Now, this being Linfield and being so perilously close to Building 4 for transitions, ARs wetting themselves wasn’t breaking news either. After all, it was one of the reasons we pushed Ian before in scaring him. Dwindling down, wetting one’s pants was just another sign that they possibly weren’t ready for Building 3 anymore. For Ian, it was fear, for others it was just a pure loss of physicality, but for Jeremy, it almost seemed like he didn’t care or didn’t even register the need to pee in the first place. As such, when Dylan finally got the nerve to question his long-time friend about what had just happened, Jeremy looked confused and then mortified. Like someone had instantly snapped him away from wherever he was, Jeremy looked down at his wet shorts and began to whimper. Due to the time delay, Mrs. Middleton was already on the scene and escorted him away. That afternoon, we all saw him get picked up from Building 4… waddling a little more awkwardly. “Pete?” my mom asked from the kitchen. “Can you maybe change the channel to… something else?” I recognized her tone immediately from the same repeated question ever since Amanda was born. “What? It’s not violent or anything. There’s not even swearing in it! For most of the shows these days, it’s pretty tame, mom.” She sighed, clearly not wanting me to watch the show in front of my sister but not wanting to push me either. “Just consider it, okay? Your sister is due back any minute and I don’t want her seeing some of that stuff. You too maybe shou…” She then paused and I stared intently back at her, curious how she was going to finish that sentence. I could see her eyes waver for a moment, looking like she was contemplating how to continue, but she just shook her head and went back to cleaning a dish. “Just consider it…” “But I…” I wanted to continue, but at that very moment, I felt a painfully familiar sensation. “Be right back!” Like a snap of whip, I nearly jumped off the couch and ran to the toilet. Using the step stool, really just one of those things for adult-sized people to use to squat on the toilet or what not, but I managed to lay out the rubber extender seat and sit down. Relief was instant. Along with the diapers that were now in high demand, new implementations for those wishing beyond anything to end up in them flooded the market as well. Receiving some advice from Jeremy and Dylan a little while back, Phil and I had rapidly purchased our own stool and seat cover. Designed for ARs in mind, it was durable, soft feeling at least, and lightweight. With it, any smaller or younger AR could easily sit on any normal-sized toilet seat. Going out, my mom made sure to pack the portable one in her oversized purse. More than once now, it had been the difference between me making it or having an accident… something I was determined with all my might to avoid. Sighing at another successful day, I made sure to wipe in several different positions… sitting, standing, moving my shorts back up… After the camping trip, I noticed I might dribble a little in some circumstances. I still couldn’t figure out the connecting factor of when it happened versus didn’t, but owning to me washing my underwear each night, my mom still didn’t suspect… at least I think she didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but using the stool once again, I managed to wash my hands. As I was doing that though, I heard the front door open and my sister barge in. I knew my show would be over, and I already started to think of the shows I could watch that our mom wouldn’t mind Amanda watching as well. There weren’t many that met both her desires and mine, but I was determined to keep the peace. Getting back to the living room, however, I found her already plopped on the couch and watching one of her shows. “Hey! I was watching something!” “An’ you left,” she said, not breaking her eyes away from the screen. I grumbled and decided to confront her. She had come back early, and I was still supposed to have the TV for another ten minutes at least. After, she could have it no problem. Just… not now. “It’s still my time. Give me the remote, please.” “No.” This time she glared at me and hugged the remote even tighter. Unfortunately, it was just another sign in my life that things were changing. Originally, I was the eldest and I had some power over my siblings. Of course, being the oldest, I had to cave into their demands a lot and bear the brunt of chores and other undesirable things they didn’t have to deal with, but we all got along fairly well. Remembering to about a year ago, Amanda had begged me every time I was over to read her a story. That tradition had continued… until about a month ago. I’m not sure what triggered it, but her five-year-old self almost glared at me like I was now a rival in the house. So, I stood my ground as well. “Mom! Tell Amanda to give me back the remote. I was watching something, and she just changed the channel.” I could hear my mom sigh and then walk over to us. “Pete… I let her change the channel. You watched enough TV today, and now, it’s her turn.” Just out of her sight, Amanda stuck her tongue out a me. “But mom!” I protested. I hated how whiney I was sounding, but I knew Amanda. If she won here, it was just a matter of time before that all got lorded over me in a much more permanent manner. “I have ten more minutes.” “Actually, only eight now, but Amanda has the remote and I’ve made my decision. So, either watch Princess Mondy with her or find something else to do.” I saw her eyes then flutter over to the door that led to the back deck. “Better yet, go outside and get some sun. Call one of your friends or just enjoy the outdoors a little.” I wanted to protest her, but her glare was a quick reminder for me not to push things. I remembered it well from when I was growing up, and unfortunately, I had noticed it had reappeared once again in my life these past few months. A lot of things happened when I transitioned down to Building 3… that was one of them. “Fine…” Ignoring the shit-eating grin Amanda had on her face, I sat down to watch her stupid show. It was all pink and girly and Princess Mondy, the titular character, loved to sing. It was a girls show, and as much as I loved fantasy and knights and dragons and all that super cool stuff, the show just wasn’t doing it for me. So, less than five minutes into the show, I walked outside. Closing the door, I could hear a little snicker from Amanda. Unfortunately, just as I predicted, Amanda used that day to start implementing her will over me. Having just grown up and knowing just how to use her body, antics, or just about anything else was enough to convince my parents of almost anything she wanted. Extra ice cream for her and her friends? Done. More TV time than me, even when my favorite show was on? Done. Time after time, my parents were choosing her. Worse though, I could tell I was losing to her on the physical front as well. ‘Under six…’ It danced in my head night and day, and I still didn’t have a definitive answer. It felt very strange but every time I asked, it was always a ‘ask us again in a week’ or ‘let me get back to you on that, Pete.’ Dr. Faulkner looked increasingly suspicious, but dropping under six, my powerlessness was on full display now. I was helpless in just about every aspect of life now. Even going outside, my mom at least insisted that I stay withing sight of the house, so that basically killed my daily walks. Tee ball was still in my life, but hitting the ball past third base was starting to feel more like a miracle. I mean, yes, I was still the hero of Building 3 for being the main driving force for getting Butch, Ian, and the rest of the gang out, but now, instead of faces of admiration and happiness every time I walked by, I saw only those of sympathy. Everything felt like it was coming to a point… one that I didn’t like one bit. Waking up this morning, being in the middle of June now, I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or… ‘No, Pete. It was sweat. Just sweat. Nothing more.’ I hurriedly raced for the shower, and it took a good second and a strong jerk of my hands to move the nobs to take my shower. Even getting back to my room, I saw my clothes had been laid out and I could only groan. Still utilizing my closet, I couldn’t get to half of my wardrobe on the upper hangers anymore, so while I could have protested, it felt fruitless. So, a few minutes later, I was downstairs and watching my sister’s cartoons… again in a cartoon shirt and khaki shorts. Frustratingly, either from lack of interest or funding, clothing around this age at the exchange store seemed entirely limited. Ignoring the giggle from my sister, I teetered on the edge of my seat to eat my cereal and orange slices. “Hurry up, Pete,” my mom urged. I’m taking your sister to daycare this morning instead of your dad. He had to go to work early today, and they have a tight deadline we need to hit. Linfield is on the way, so you’ll go first.” I glared at my sister for seemingly interfering in my life again, but she didn’t even look at me. From the small side-smile I saw her sporting though, I knew she liked to see me squirm over this latest news. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so sensitive, but like an itch I couldn’t scratch, it felt beyond my control. “Alright! Everyone ready?” My mom had packed Amanda’s lunch and bag for the day and held it up eagerly for sister to take it. Smiling and slipping into it gracefully, I knew she was doing her best Princess Mondy impression. Her self-labeled status as a ‘princess’ elicited coos and praise from everyone who saw it. I could only roll my eyes and grab my own self-packed bag and head out the door. Notably today, inside the car, maybe it was my mind try to think of any kind of revenge against my sister, but I saw that she had a booster seat in there… and I didn’t. Being my younger sister, it didn’t mean much… except I wasn’t entirely sure she was ‘younger’ anymore… at least based on the height comparison she did the other day. Clearing over me with at least finger width, I was now officially the shortest of the family… if nothing else. So, getting comfortable in my own chair, I couldn’t help but stare at her booster seat with my own grin. As soon as my mom was out on the main road… too far to turn around, just in case, I started. “Oh! This is such a comfy seat in the car. Nothing but padding cushion and no restrictions whatsoever!” I then turned to my sister. “Isn’t that right, Amand…? Oh…” I fake grimaced as I looked her up and down. “Sorry… I guess you wouldn’t know.” “Mommy!” she screeched. I could see our mom flinch up and the sudden outburst from my sister. “Why does Petey get to sit in the car seat an’ I still have a boostuh?” From her shoulder hunch and her sigh, I could tell my mom was in no mood for this in the morning. “Amanda… we will talk about this later. Your brother is different and you know that.” “Buh’ he’s younguh than me!” And that was it. It was only five little words in the grand scheme of things, but it was the first time that I had heard it out loud. Maybe my parents had talked with siblings about my condition without me but hearing it from even Amanda was a blow to my ego. “Amanda Crichton!” My mom still hadn’t had all her coffee this morning and I knew the addition of dropping Amanda off wasn’t helping matters either. “I said we will talk about this later. Not another word, understand?” Amanda crossed her arms and grumbled something under her breath that I couldn’t quite make out. I did hear her admission of defeat on this front though. “Yes mommy…” It was music to my ears. Of course, getting out of the car later at Linfield, Amanda seemed to have had the last laugh. While my mom simply wished me luck and to have a good day, Amanda blurted out another few simple but damaging few words. “Bye, Petey! Make sure to make it to the potty on time today!” Not wanting to linger and wishing the ground would just swallow me whole, I scurried off. Even still, beyond the whispers and muttering around me, I could still hear my mom. “Amanda Elizabeth Crichton!” That was all I heard, but that was enough. Putting that all out of my mind, I soon joined my group of friends in Mr. Aguilar’s and Mrs. Middleton’s class. As usual, they mostly left us to our own devices… except for the first bit in the morning. For some reason, I didn’t want to fight my feeling of restraint anymore. Maybe I should have been more concerned… even asked for help to steel myself against whatever I was feeling… but I didn’t. Today, I wanted to join in. We sang a few catchy songs about the days of the week, the weather, and even a few numbers. Yes, I remembered all that stuff, but I just kind of… well, wanted to. Not a compulsion necessarily, but definitely a desire to join in. Looking back, I could see a few odd stares from Dylan, Fred, and Phil, but to me they just seemed like sticks in the mud compared to everyone else. Maybe it was the battling with my sister recently, or something to do with losing everything else… or maybe even something more, but I didn’t care. I was tired of being upset. I wanted to have fun… so I joined with Sammy. “Pete?” He looked at me a little warily, but I just nudged him to pay attention. He was always not paying attention, and knowing him, I knew he didn’t want to miss the next part. So, when he wouldn’t stop staring, I put a finger up to my lips and then directed him back up front. Moments later, he was all smiles. “Oh! Thank you, Pete!” Smiling, I just listened in for our cue. Hitting play on the recorded tune, and then starting with some guitars and general singing, Mrs. Middleton started pretty normally. Having heard it every day now for five months… ‘Wow… I can’t believe I’ve been here for that long. It feels… shoot! Gotta pay attention!’ I popped my listening ears back on and managed to get ahold just a few lyrics in. “…shine! Welcome to school today. We’re so glad you’re here…” Mrs. Middleton, the one in charge of the singing in this class, then smiled coyly at the rest of the class. “Okay… a little bit louder now!” “Rise and…” The lyrics continued like that, but seconds later, Mrs. Middleton directed her hands lower. “Okay… softer now.” I didn’t like that part, but as soon as we got to the whispering section, I couldn’t help but laugh a little. With the way some people did it, it almost tickled. But then the song was over. We would get back together soon for some music theory, being a Wednesday and all, but for now, it was free time. So, pulling Sammy along, we rejoined our group… who looked at me like I had just swallowed a big juicy bug… or had one coming out of my ear. “What?” The three sticks in the mud just stared and blinked at me for a second. It was a little weird since they had never done that to Sammy… despite him still being at least ten, but finally, Dylan spoke. “Dude… what was that?” I furrowed my brow, and sighing, Phil then spoke up next. “You sang, Pete. You never sang. Are you…?” I could see the hesitation behind his face, and I realized that it was a little strange for me to suddenly want to start singing. At the time, it just felt like the most natural thing ever. But now… Phil grimaced a little. “Are you okay, Pete? I mean, are you feeling like… well, you?” “Hmmm…’ I put my finger on my chin and tapped it a few times. “I don’t know. I feel fine. Singing was a bit strange, but… I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to be happy instead of moping in here all the time like you three.” “Woah,” Fred said quickly putting his hands up. “Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly happy. I just… don’t want to be singing rise and…” “Shine…” I filled in for him. He should have been happy for the help, but instead he just stared at me awkwardly again. “Right…” Dylan said after a moment or two of silence between us. “Let’s just… uh, forget that happened. Maybe play some cards instead.” “Good idea,” Phil jumped on hastily. I could see a pain in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking, but I could at least guess. It wasn’t good for me if he was right, but it was just one time singing… that was fine… ‘Right?’ Well, those looks didn’t go away. Sure, I beat them at a few rounds of poker, but sharing time, craft time, lunch time, our advanced art class, and recess were all a little weird… at least judging by their looks. I mean, I even excelled in the art class today, but I think Dylan and Fred were still stuck on the whole notion that I actually climbed on the playground equipment with Sammy today. I made up the notion that I wanted to increase my strength and stamina again back to what it used to be, but after, it felt more like an excuse than an actual reason afterward. Still, I wanted to stick with my group, so we walked around and admired the beautiful day out and generally just talked about this and that. Whatever desire I had before to jump around and act goofy or playful had dissipated. Now, we were talking about baseball. “I don’t see what’s the big deal about the statistics in baseball anyway,” I admitted. “I just want to watch a game, eat a hot dog, and call out the ump when he makes a bad call.” “But the statistics give it the individuality of each game,” Dylan defended. “They all say that some player can’t hit the ball worth a damn, but then… boom!” He clapped his hands and shot one off into the air. “The ball is hit and fly high and whammo! You have a home run. Defies all the odds… its beautiful.” “Well, yeah,” I agreed. “It’s a true wonder, but I just think baseball is good when everyone gets on their feet and starts clapping when the bases are loaded.” I jumped a little ahead and turned around to make my point better. “Just picture it. Thousands of fans jumping up and down…” I had my eyes partially closed. Maybe if I hadn’t, or if it hadn’t been such a beautiful day, things might have been different. I might have seen my friends try to warn me about what was behind me. I might have been more aware of the impending problem I was about to have. Or even at worst, I might have seen Phil try to stop me… But I didn’t. “I mean, it’s all amazing,” I nearly cheered. “Have you ever been to a game where the bases are loaded, it’s two outs, and two strikes. It’s absolutely ama…” I knocked into something large, heavy, and unmoving. I scuffled forward back toward my friends, my eyes now open to seeing them each look at me with concern and then back to whatever was behind me. Turning around, I saw the four new ARs that had arrived last week. They were by no means bullies, but I could see them still carry around the adult swagger and pride that most of us had given up a long time ago. It just didn’t matter here, but they didn’t know that yet… or when to avoid a conflict with someone who might not be fully in control of their actions that one day. “Watch it pipsqueak!” the taller of the three shouted down at me. “Did the kid just bump into you, Mads?” one of his shorter companions asked, a pimple on his forehead threatening to pop at any moment. For some reason, even in my slightly dazed and meek state, I kind of wanted to pop it like a balloon or pinata. The other two loomed in the background, but they bulked up his side much more than our own. Sure, Fred was tall, but he was also lanky. Sammy was similarly taller than the rest of us, but his mental state… well, he had seemed more distracted by a nearby butterfly than our conversation about baseball and was still a little bit away trying to catch it. “Yeah, Bruno,” the taller one snorted. “How would you like it if someone shoved you, you little ragamuffin.” The insult felt strange and out of place, but I remembered seeing Mads before in Building 2. The guy barely looked older then… and that was months ago. Seeing him now as not much different, I suspected he had both lost a lot of years but was losing them very slowly. If I had taken all that into account, I should have known his pride might have been fragile if he had just been bumped into here. I might have recognized that it wasn’t wise to tangle or challenge someone who might have one been an old, toughened geezer just a year ago. But I didn’t… “Me?” I questioned, taking an insult, despite how poor his own was. “What about you? You can’t just lumber around somewhere else? Or did they not teach you manners when you transferred down?” He scoffed. “I don’t have time for this.” Walking away, he pushed me to the side. “Move aside, little baby. I don’t have time for you.” It felt like an outright dismissal of my feelings and of my state of being. Having lost so much, my own ego was pretty fragile as well, and maybe it had gone to my head of everyone at least respecting me around here, but I didn’t like this new AR one bit. “Pete!” Phil called out. “Stop.” But I just waved him off behind me and stepped closer to Mads. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me. You don’t just call someone a baby here and then walk away!” Mads groaned and looked back at Bruno. Taking his cue, like a bodyguard of sorts, he pushed me back. “Step aside, munchkin. You don’t want to do this.” His insults weren’t much better, but being shoved aside and poking fun at my height was just too much. I could feel a tug from behind and even a whisper from one of my friends to ‘stay back and out of the way’ or to ‘just let this go…’ but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I just… couldn’t. So, I shoved them both back… hard. Of course, my stature and strength, not being anywhere even close to what it had been, the gesture proved nearly useless. They barely flinched, but I think they took it as more than that. Bruno pushed first. It hurt a little, but I still stood my ground… and I pushed back, but this time with my full force into Mads. Like a hand to an annoying mosquito, Mads then shoved me back. With his immense strength though… at least compared to mine, I fell to the ground, a dust cloud that puffed all around me. And then I felt it. A warmth trickling in my shorts. I looked down, praying to the heavens that maybe, somehow, I was wrong. But I had been wearing khaki shorts, and they didn’t do anything to hide any amount of liquid whatsoever. There, on the front of my shorts, plain as day to anyone with even the worst of vision, was a spreading wet spot. A few that gathered around gasped at the unfolding scene. Starting with Mads and Bruno though, a few laughed. Looking up at my friends in shame, I could see their despondent looks and I could just see that they knew this was coming. I had been running to the bathroom for a while now, and as much as I wanted to fight it, an incident like this was coming. Now, I just wanted a teacher to come, end all this and send me back to class. It was horrible, but it was just one incident. If I acted maturely, I knew I could still manage to avoid Building 4. ‘Right?’ “Make a path! Make a path, please.” Mrs. Middleton soon parted the small crowd, and her gaze immediately fixated on my shorts. She gave me a sympathetic look and then waved to someone in the distance. I wasn’t sure who, but she then crouched down and stroked my shoulder. “Oh Pete…” “Mrs. Middleton! It wasn’t his fault!” Phil quickly tried to defend. “It was them!” His accusatory finger pointed right at Mads and Bruno. Quickly, the crowd turned on them and glared angrily at them. My maturity reputation may have hit rock bottom today, but my anti-bullying one was still quite intact. “I see… Thank you, Phil.” Then squinting her eyes angrily at the two, I knew they were going to be in trouble of some kind. ‘Small favors, I guess…’ “You two… just stay right there. Come with me. Mr. Aguilar can deal with you right now. I need to…” Her face and tone softened as she then looked back at me. “I need to help Pete here.” Helping me up, Mrs. Middleton quickly guided me away, Mads and Bruno stumbling behind me with drawn and downcast faces. In the increasing distance, I could just make out Sammy clutching to Phil as they and Dylan and Fred watched me go. I hoped I would see them soon, but as the crowd began to encircle around them, almost like an ominous telling of my future, all that seemed uncertain now. Pushing through Building 3, some looked at me with disgust… most looked at me with sympathy though. Almost like I was viewing my own funeral, a long tunnel of students on either side of the hallway flanked the four of us as we walked through. Waiting nearby, like he was waiting for them while watching the recess, Mr. Aguilar collected Mads and Bruno as Mrs. Middleton and I ventured on, out of the building and over to Building 1. Sighing, Mrs. Middleton knocked on Dr. Smothers’ office. I hadn’t seen her much recently, but her office door was still a pretty familiar site. “Come in!” she said from inside, almost likely she knew we were coming. Pushing open the door, Dr. Smothers saw me first and then looked at Mrs. Middleton. “We had a little accident, but… well, after the conference we had last month, I know you want to talk to the B’s first before… well, you know.” I didn’t though and it was paining me to be so out of the proverbial loop. Nodding her head, Dr. Smothers then smiled back down at me. “Yes. Come in, Pete.” I nodded and took a few steps but then saw her carpet and her chairs… both about to be stepped on by me and my wet shorts. Dr. Smothers, eyeing me closely, immediately saw the problem. “Oh, don’t worry about any of that stuff in here, Pete. Step on the carpet and have a seat. Trust me, they’ve seen plenty worse, and my office is well-made for any type of… accidents.” Sighing, I stepped forward and then sat in the chair with a tiny hop up. I didn’t like feeling the damp warmth as I did so, but there was just something about Dr. Smothers that put me at ease now. Smiling still, she then looked back at Mrs. Middleton. “Thank you, Clarie. I can take Pete from here. I’m sure your class needs you for…” She then looked at a nearby clock. “Oh yes… evaluation time.” “Thank you,” she said simply. Watching her leave, she gave me a small wave. “Goodbye, Pete, and… good luck.” Closing the door behind her, again, I felt a finality to her words. It was another gnawing put in my stomach, and as I looked back at Dr. Smothers, only her kind eyes kept me from nearly puking right then. Dr. Smothers then leaned forward onto her desk and clasped her hands together. “Now then… I’ll get you a change as quick as I can here, Pete, but… there’s a few things we need to go over first, okay?” Dreading the worst, I could only nod back. She then asked me a few questions that seemed perilously similar to those I had been asked before I got booted from Building 2 before. I didn’t like that one bit, but I still answered them about as honestly as I could. About my recent troubles at home… with Amanda. About my increased interest or disinterest in certain subjects, objects, or activities. Even… my increased urgency to go to the bathroom. Looking down, I felt my shorts could answer that particular question well enough. Still, Dr. Smothers, ever the professional I found her to be now, merely nodded and showed no emotion whatsoever except maybe an occasional glance of kindness or caring towards me. “Well… I think that about does it.” She then looked at her monitor and nodded her head while her eyes began to shift down… like she was reading a list of some kind. “So, I just read your file and a few of your test scores. You seem to be doing remarkably well for someone at your age of… five? Four?” I could only shrug my shoulders. “Well, either way. Very impressive.” I could feel my spirits begin to lift. “But I also see that you’re a B… and unfortunately, one accident means more to our system here. Being diagnosed younger is an auto…” “Wait!” She had just said words that I hadn’t heard for months now. “What do you mean ‘diagnosed?’ I’m guessing you were going to say automatic drop or some nonsense, but my diagnosis is under six… which I am already.” “And not stopping,” she quickly noted. “But yes, you have been diagnosed as aging younger than you are now. So, as I was saying… you…” “Hold on!” I was getting flustered now and again, I felt like things were being kept from me. “Diagnosed. What does that mean? Not a definition,” I clarified, “just… when? And what is it? I’ve just heard under six. If you’re condemning me, then I feel…” “Okay, okay. Take a breath, Pete,” Dr. Smothers tried to console me and calm me down. “Just take a second and breathe.” A cracked my knuckles about as best I could, but I wanted answers, so I complied and took a breath. Smiling, she continued. “Very good. Now, let’s see here…” Turning her monitor towards me, she clicked through a few pages of notes all about me. Test scores, personality tests, facts about what I had done in Building 2 and 3... it was all there. Finally, though, we ended up on a page… date three months ago. “Now, according to this… ah. I see…” Her hand then pointed to a section of red letters. “It looks like these results were deemed as potentially hurtful to your mental health, and while your parents were told, it was kept from you.” I could feel the color and life all drain away from my body. I didn’t want to believe it, but the screen didn’t lie. The date… the timing of it all. I thought back to around that time and it was right around when my dad started getting involved in keeping my weekend’s fun. It was around the time my parents started encouraging me to live my life more and join things like tee ball. It was when Lucas started to step up in a big way to help guide me around the house. “They…” I couldn’t even finish. Dr. Smothers sighed. “Pete… I know this is a lot, and I’m sorry about this. I really am, but… look.” I did and saw the other most damning part of the file on the screen. “This says ‘under three years old. That type of diagnosis… you remember Bradley and Ned?” It was a bit difficult, both of their incidents about being transferred down to Building 3 so long ago now, but they had stuck in my mind, so I nodded. “Well, both were diagnosed to bounce at four and three respectively,” she revealed. “Both were told, so, when they were transferred down, they knew it was just the first step to possibly going to Building 4. See, they had this same meeting with me as you are now. They knew just one accident and they would be transferred to Building 4. Like you they were B’s… as in the second of two groups. A’s are diagnosed to bounce with the parameters of Building 3. B’s, like yourself, are diagnosed down to the parameters of Building 4. So, your parents likely didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to stress yourself out… like Bradley. He just couldn’t cope with any of it, and he blew his bouncing age of three. He transferred out last month, but he could barely keep his head up at his new age…” So maybe my parents had a reason… but all this… it just felt like too much all at once. In a single stroke it seemed, I would now be demoted to Building 4. Now, the wording of ‘under three’ rang in my head. Compared to what I was diagnosed with, now that same notion of being ‘under six’ felt like practically an adult. Breaking a little my head dropped a little, and tears began to trickle from my eyes. “Oh, Pete… it’ll be okay. I promise. Just…” Dr. Smothers then unleashed a tissue and quickly handed it to me, likely following a new precaution of not hugging ARs. Most seemed to feel it would demean us, but honestly, right then, I felt I could use a good hug. It might not have been much on the grand scale of things, but it might have been enough to give me a little hope… even for a single moment. But that didn’t happen. “I just… everyone is going to think I’m just a baby!” I wailed, not even caring that I was already sounding like one. “This… this can’t be how my life ends up! I was an adult and… and now…” I just couldn’t finish my wording yet again. “Pete… I…” Dr. Smothers sighed and then shook her head before heading right over to my side and looking down at me in the chair. “I’m sorry if this makes you feel…” But I didn’t need to hear anymore. Seeing her already leaning down towards me, I knew she was going in for a hug. So, I beat her to it and hugged her tightly. “Oh! Well, I guess you needed this, huh?” I could only pathetically nod back as more tears ran down my cheeks. She then broke off from me, and right as she was about to sit down, a knock came from her door. “Oh! She’s a little early. “Just a minute!” she called out to the person behind the door. Sitting now, she looked back at me. “Now, Pete. I know all this is a lot to handle. Honestly, you’re doing better than most, but we need to address your condition head on. Unfortunately, you’re not going to get any better and you will just become younger. With that, whether your mind is sound enough or not, there’s just a physicality you’re going to lack… at part of that is your bladder and bowels.” Speaking of which, mine were currently tying themselves in knots. “I wish it wasn’t the case, but we need to prepare for those eventualities. Today, just shows that its coming in one form or another.” That pit in my stomach told me what she meant, but I wanted her to say it out loud. “Meaning?” “Well… meaning you’re going to need a little help in that department now.” Leaning a little to her left, she called out again. “Alright, come in!” The door slowly opened, and as I should have predicted, Gina was standing and looking back at me, sadness swimming all around her face. “Oh, Pete. I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, coming up to me and rubbing me on my shoulder. “Now, Gina is going to take you away and get you all cleaned up,” Dr. Smothers explained as Gina patted my shoulder to get me to stand. “And just remember, this whole thing isn’t the end. It’s just a new path in life. Remember to take deep breaths, and please, don’t hesitate to ask for help… from me or anyone else, okay?” Exiting her office now, my shorts started becoming cold, I could only shed another tear and nod. Closing Dr. Smothers door behind us, Gina smiled warmly at me and gave me a quick hug. Knowing me for almost nine months now, she knew that hugs tended to soothe me more than words lately. My now bi-weekly appointments with Dr. Faulkner gave her a further insight into my condition and well-being than most others here, and while I hadn’t availed myself of her services as much here, I knew she still cared a great deal about me. “Come on, Pete,” she said, guiding me away from the other offices and toward the back door. “Aren’t we…” I looked back and saw as Gina continued to pull me further away from the clinic here. “Aren’t we going to the clinic to…” I briefly glanced down and blushed at the sight of my shorts, still soaked pretty thoroughly and getting uncomfortable now. “You know… change my clothes?” Gina seesawed her hand back and forth. “Eh… not exactly, Pete. I mean, I can, but…” She then opened the back doors and guided me to the right… to Building 4. “There are other places that are more… equipped to handle this sort of thing.” I gulped as we were nearing the building. I didn’t want it to be the case, but approaching the brightly decorated building, there was no mistake as to what my fate was to be here at Linfield. Like creatures mocking me from the walls, each smiling cartoon character appeared more sinister than happy to me… like they knew that I was once adult and that I had to shame myself to gain entry within. Shedding another tear and then briefly turning around before we entered inside, I felt like I was stepping into the mouth of a giant monster. Once I went in… I wasn’t sure if I could ever get out.

Hey everyone! Yay! Over halfway through now! Could be subject to change here, but at least for now… yay milestones! Also, sorry for just posting this chapter. All these are much longer than I was anticipating for this section, but this being one of the added ones, I feel pretty confident in the direction of this story now. Also, the site was down for longer than expected, and to be blunt, I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity to take down three hags in my weekly D&D game. For those of you who know, it’s hard to say no to something like that. Regardless, and just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or 13. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 14: The Stars Tell of Our Fates and Our Pasts I was a hero and the triumphant defeater of Butch, Ian, and the rest of the unruly members of his gang. It was just a few actions on my part really, but now, I felt like the star of the show around Linfield. I knew it was partly from going from one extreme of being ‘accidentally’ tripped everyday to the other extreme of being praised by everyone, including the teachers at one point, but it was hard to blame anyone for appreciating what I had set in motion. And what’s more, I liked it. Sure, it meant there was a larger spotlight on me and a few bullies still cropping up in the next two weeks meant everyone coming to me for help, but I didn’t mind that so much. For the first time since I had dropped into Building 3 and had lost so much in my life, even the things you never think about until they’re gone, I felt useful. Granted, I was still in Building 3 with a bunch of single digit-aged ARs, but it was a happy place and time for me… well, except for one thing. Still looking in the mirror in the mornings, albeit now with a stepstool that Lucas had made sure wasn’t a firetruck, frog, or hugging teddy bear, I saw that I was still dropping like a rock. Of course, that had been happening for a while now. Rolling into the end of May now, I had been losing about a year every one to two weeks. It was hard to keep track of it all, but I was haunted by one revelation the other day… Looking at the comparison of school photos… I now looked about six years old… seven at best. Worse, I was showing no signs of slowing down. Sitting on the bench waiting to be called up at bat for the tee ball game today, I continually glanced over at my friends. Jeremy always made me feel good about my stature, but I was now about dead even in height with Dylan and Phil easily had a few inches on me now. Looking further down the bench, newer faces like Sammy or Fred seemed practically adult in comparison to me. I mean, yes, Sammy had a terrible case of clear Infasia, but Fred was different. Hailing recently from Building 2, he had only just edged into our Building a few weeks back. As such, his maturity and quick thinking had proved immeasurably helpful. In fact, he had supported and even added ideas in the takedown of both Ian and Butch. Coming from LA, he had put some of his acting knowledge to good use and even volunteered to be one of the actors from the play offering Ian to be a bee himself. It was the clencher of that plan and he rapidly found himself hanging out with us, his outfielder glove on the tee ball coming in handy as well. Simply put, most of the team didn’t really have the strength anymore to launch the ball back from anywhere back there. “You okay?” he then questioned to me while we were waiting our turn to be called up to bat. “Yeah… just…” I looked over at the mound and sure, it was tee ball, but I used to strike the ball with such force that I had carried more than a few games to victory. Now… “I just… I’m not as strong as I used to be…” “Oh…” Fred was great, but he was still new to Building 3 and it showed. He had lost a lot like the rest of us, but there was a big difference in dropping from 16 to 11, as opposed to 11 down to 6. He could still reach for the top shelf, and I could just make out a faint darkness on his upper lip where he hadn’t shaved very well this morning. For me though… shaving was becoming a distant memory, and I was lucky for the very tips of my bed head hair in the morning to even reach the four-foot mark anymore. “That must suck, but I’ve seen you hit. You’ve got accuracy and you’re still pretty fast. Plus…” His eyes then shifted around and he leaned over to me before whispering in my ear. “The Otters have a weak spot… right down the middle of the diamond next to second base. You can get it that far… and you’re golden.” “Really?” I looked out and sure enough, upon closer inspection, our rival team from across town, the South Creek Otters, had fielded a younger AR out there. I doubted his arm would be up for much distance throwing, and besides, squinting further, I could see that he was more distracted by a few birds flying overhead. It wasn’t full-blown Infasia, but getting distracted easily was a classic early sign of it taking over. “Holy smokes!” “Shhh!” His head shot back over to the rival dugout, but not seeing the coach look our way, he sighed with relief. “Their coach may not know it yet. Could be a fast regressor. So, like when we field Sammy or Jeremy, he could switch them to simpler or more covered positions… just in case. For now, though… we’ve got a spot to win this whole thing.” “Ah!” I then winked at my new friend. “Gotcha!” He smirked and patted me on the back. “Thanks a lot, Fred. It really means a…” “Pete!” Mrs. Middleton called. “You’re up!” Looking back, Fred gave me a quick thumbs up. “Don’t worry. You got this one in the bag!” I nodded and started to jog out to go bat. On my way, I received several reassurances of ‘good luck’ and ‘you got this.’ Even with everyone seeing that I was no longer the player I used to be, my efforts with Butch and all had cemented me as a friend to pretty much everyone here. Trotting out and picking up the bat, it felt good, and I couldn’t help but smile. Then, just as Fred predicted, I was able to make contact with the ball just right to the point where it sailed past second base and to the outfield. Seeing a Blue Jay land in a tree nearby, the Otter’s outfielder was already distracted. The ball landed on the grass before he even turned to look. A few screams and shouts later, Phil, taking a bigger risk than he needed to, was struck out, but we also gained two points from Maude and Dylan. I was disappointed I hadn’t hit the ball further, but Fred’s advice proved to be their undoing. Positioning myself comfortably at second base, Fred hit the ball to the same spot, and while their outfielder was ready for it, it still allowed Fred to capture first base and me to score yet another point. Three points ahead, the Otters just weren’t strong enough to overcome it and we won. “Oh, honey! My mom gushed. “Congratulations on another win… to all of you!” The rest of the team smiled at her continued presence here. She was never shy with compliments, and maybe it was just something about her tone or her carefully selected wording, but those with even a touch of Infasia found her utterly mesmerizing. As such, between that and any of my hang outs after school or practice, she had become a welcome and friendly face. “Oh, Karen!” Mrs. Middleton shouted with joy as soon as she saw her. “Would you be a dear and take a photo of us?” Already holding the camera to take the photo, my mom, being who she was, just couldn’t say no. Minutes later, the team was all lined up and we got a shot standing in front of the South Creek school banner, our own new jerseys and our own banner showcasing our rabbit mascot coming through nicely. “Oh… would you look at that,” she gushed, looking at the photo intently. “You see that, Gregg?” My dad soon trotted onto the scene, Amanda in tow as well. “Oh… looks superb you all!” “Almost reminds me of the one I just found the other day, huh?” My mom quickly dug her phone out and began searching. “What reminds you?” I asked, not sure what my mom was referring to. “Oh…” My dad seemed hesitant to reveal what she was talking about, and I immediately became suspicious. “Honey… maybe we should hold o…” “Oh! Here it is!” Despite my dad’s clear startup to an objection, my mom hoisted over her phone and showed the whole group. To my dismay it was an old photo of me in a jersey… right about when I was in first grade. “Oh wow!” Jeremy said, seemingly fascinated with the photo himself. “Lookie here!” Not even thinking, he pulled the photo up in front of me and showed the rest of the group what I could only imagine was a side-by-side comparison. “You almost look exactly like this… just a different haircut and jersey!” It wasn’t the news I wanted to hear. Needless to say, my cheeks blushed heavily, and I just wanted to go away and hide in a hole somewhere as a few of my team members giggled over the comparison. Looking over with a slight frown to my mom, I could see that she regretted bringing out the photo in the first place. But like the vase I accidentally broke when I was five years old at our old house, as was explained to me, some mistakes just couldn’t be undone. Seeing and knowing all, as she usually seemed to somehow magically do it felt like, Mrs. Middleton thrust herself into the situation. “That was a pretty great hit you had there, Pete!” she praised quickly. Looking up and seeing her all-knowing smile, I knew she was trying to get the group to focus more on my accomplishments than my losses or similarities to who I was over 20 years ago. “Yeah… Fred figured it out. Spotted the gap and I just swung away.” “Oh? Is that so?” Smiling and clearly proud of himself, Fred eagerly nodded. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to ask Fred for his keen eye more often. Still, for now, a win is a win. You all have anything fun you’re going to do to celebrate? Pizza? Ice cream downtown?” This time, it was my dad’s turn to step in. “Actually, us guys are coordinating, and me and Mr. Carver, Dylan’s caregiver, are taking them up to go camping at an old family favorite spot in the mountains.” “Just by yourself?” I could quickly see the concern wash over Mrs. Middleton’s face as she gazed over the group, but more specifically at Jeremy, Sammy, and sadly, me. My dad shook his head though and even chuckled at the notion. “No, no. I mean, we probably could do it, but I’m bringing along my son, Lucas, and his roommate from college. Both are seasoned campers and can lend an extra hand if need be.” “Oh,” Mrs. Middleton said with a clear air of relief. “I’m glad my team will be in safe hands then. I would be very upset if something were to happen to them because of some mishap up there from a little too much horsing around. Isn’t that right, Sammy?” “Yeah…” he said bashfully, kicking a little rock on the ground with his foot and adverting his gaze. “I really am sorry about your flower vase in class…” Mrs. Middleton ensured Sammy knew that she had forgiven him, but her point had been made. Even as we all loaded into our caregiver’s cars, before rendezvousing back at Linfield later, I could still see her questioning my dad. For his part, he was able to stand his ground and answer all her questions. Having taken Lucas, Amanda, and I all camping since we were babies, he was an expert kid wrangler and a stickler about rules and safety up there. Sadly, I knew that meant that I wasn’t going to be allowed anywhere near helping with the fire… Back home, all I needed to do was to grab my sleeping bag and my backpack. My mom and dad both contributed, but due to my shrinking height, most of what I was bringing was actually brand new, rather than something old I would have to dig out from my closet again… like Lucas apparently had to do at his off-campus apartment last night. For my stuff though, almost as soon as we purchased it last night after my dad got home, we immediately packed it away for today. As such, I was running downstairs and eager to help with everything else. “Woah there, partner!” my mom said, wrestling me into her grip. “Slow down. I don’t want you tripping and falling. That wouldn’t make a very good camping trip now, would it?” I calmed down and shook my head. “No, mom…” Her little reminder speeches were becoming increasingly common, but after slamming my little fingers into a cabinet the other day when she had already warned me to be careful… I tended to take her advice these days. Plus, looking further into the kitchen, I could already see that she was dicing up and then bagging the ingredients for the meal the rest of us were going to have tonight. It was simple, but from years of doing this, I knew it was perfect and just what everyone wanted. I could even smell some of the spices that… “Petey?” I could recognize the voice anywhere, and instinctually, I looked down… but that was a problem with Amanda lately. Rounding beyond five now and me at six… I no longer looked down at my younger sister. I looked straightforward. Sure, being a girl and still about a year younger, I was still a few inches taller than her, but again, my lack of slowing down in regressing had plagued my mind for weeks now… particularly when it came to Amanda… my younger sister. And that was just it. I had long since dwindled far below Lucas’ age, and frankly, he took his new role as ‘older brother’ to Amanda and me in stride. He never lorded his newfound position over us, and after a few conversations with our parents, he even started to be a mentor and helper in his own way to us. For Amanda, that meant essentially doing what he had been doing since she was born. For me though, that meant defending me against people who tried to treat me like the age I appeared. Now looking at Amanda though, her true immaturity was like a flashing yellow cautionary light in the distance. Being raised as the youngest, she often got what she wanted. Still regressing, I wondered how much longer I would actually be the physically older brother to her. Our height difference now was a constant reminder of just how perilous my current position was. Still, I could recognize the face she was making anywhere… that she wanted something. Hoping to be accommodating to her likely wants, just in case our roles were ever switched, I tried to put on the best and most accommodating smile I could. “Yes, Amanda?” “Take me wiff you, pwease?” she asked, smiling about as widely as she could and even clasping her hands together in a sort of begging posture. Chopping vegetables for tonight, I could hear my mom temporarily stop. Looking into the kitchen briefly, I could even see her pivot slightly. Fortunately, after being repeatedly reminded by Lucas and our dad, she was learning to give me a little space, and as such, for the moment at least, went back to chopping. It was nice to see her change, but I also fretted often at night sometimes that she was being more accommodating to my needs… likely knowing that I might soon have to rely on her and Dad a lot more very soon. “Uh… gee, Amanda… I…” I hemmed and hawed about as much as I could, but seeing her steadily growing impatient face, I knew I just needed to say it. “No… not this time, Amanda.” Her expression soon pinched in anger. “I would really love for you to go, but this is a guy’s only trip. The girls on the team are doing something else tonight. I mean, mom isn’t going either.” I tried to think of every excuse I could without saying that I didn’t want my little sister to come along with us, but I don’t think it was enough either. “But I wanna go!” she said angrily, stomping her foot down in frustration. “Amanda Crichton!” my mom bellowed, now stepping in and even going as far to use my little sister’s first and last name. Using ‘Peter Crichton’ on me numerous times when I was growing up, I knew Amanda also knew that our mom meant business now. As such, Amanda quickly stifled her burning rage inside. “But mommy! I wanna go!” I noticed that she wasn’t even directing her complaints at me anymore. I briefly panicked, thinking that maybe Amanda was already not viewing me as an authority figure in the house, but I pushed it out of my head when my dad walked in. “Everything okay here?” he asked innocently. “Daddy!” Amanda said, running up and hugging his legs. “Tell Petey that he has to take me! Pwease!” Coming in at the end of everything, my dad looked at me and then at Mom still in the kitchen, both of us now shaking our heads. He had a weak spot for Amanda, and while we both knew that he knew internally that Amanda couldn’t come on this particular trip, I could see we didn’t want to risk it regardless. Sighing, our dad stroked Amanda’s hair and then pried her away before crouching down. “Sorry, pumpkin. My and Pete need to do this one trip without you.” I could already see that Amanda was rearing to protest, but my dad held up a single finger to stop her cold. “Summer is coming though, so I promise… we’ll go then. Maybe just us or maybe the whole family, okay?” Again, Amanda looked like she wanted to protest, but like my mom using our full names, my dad only needed to raise his right eyebrow prominently. It gave him a skeptical and honestly, an almost sinister look. Lucas and I had come to fear that eyebrow in high school, but now, it was Amanda’s turn to feel its wrath. As such, she dropped her head and nodded. “Okay, daddy…” She was defeated and that was that. While she seemingly let it go, I saw her fuming still for the next hour as our mom and dad loaded everything into the back of his car. It was pretty full, and I briefly panicked that no one else was going to be able to fit inside, let alone me in the backseat. Yes, I had been demoted back there for a little bit now, and no, I will not elaborate further. It was still a point of contention in the family… Regardless, my dad saw my concern. “Don’t worry, champ. Remember Lucas and his roommate, Kevin, are coming as well. They’ll take the bulk of the supplies off our hands at your school.” Smiling, we both got in and waved goodbye. Mom and Amanda waved back, but I saw a wicked smile appear on Amanda’s face. “Be careful an’ don’ get eaten by wolves!” My blood ran cold and my spun into several directions. I had thought of bears… but never, ever wolves. “Amanda Elizabeth Crichton!” My mom had used her full name this time, and the wicked smile that Amanda had been sporting was wiped away like etching in the sand against the tide. Only fear replaced it now. “You apologize this instant!” “Sowwy…” Despite her fear, I could tell she was putting a bit of a front on and really wasn’t ‘sowwy.’ I wanted to yell at her or at least watch her get punished, but my mom was swiftly on the scene already. “Young lady…” Her voice and stare were cold and bore into Amanda. She glared down at her but then turned back sympathetically to me and Dad and then just waved us on. I could tell she didn’t want to leave things like that, but I knew her instincts were usually on point. If I had to guess, she probably thought that things would have only gotten worse if we stayed. Besides, she didn’t want us to be late either. Fortunately, my dad being who he was, turned around at the next stoplight. “You know she was fibbing, right?” I didn’t respond, my inner fear already taking over my rational mind. “You don’t need to worry about wolves on this trip, and besides… if there are any, just run to me. I’ll keep you safe, okay?” I nodded and I wanted to say something more, but the light turned green. Nearing Linfield, I shoved all that down. Amanda might have been a little jerk to me, but I didn’t want her bad attitude to ruin this trip for anyone else. Rounding into the parking lot, most of the crew were already there. Kevin, the lanky blonde, was quickly introducing himself to everyone else… particularly the caregivers. Having met him before and seeing me, he gave a tiny but awkward wave. I then realized that I hadn’t seen him in at least three months now… I didn’t want to think about what he was thinking about me now. Just as we arrived though, I saw another dark SUV pull up. With most already here, despite not recognizing the car, I knew it had to be Phil. Confirmed moments later and struggling with a loaded and seemingly heavy backpack, he exited the car and then waved goodbye to a lady in the front seat. Still a bit of a mystery, I remembered back to his rung and wondered if that was his wife. Still, despite my curiosity, I still didn’t push him to reveal who she was when he joined the group. “Hey everyone,” Dylan said quickly as several of the supplies began to get loaded into the three cars here now, “this is… well, I guess Mr. Carver. He’s my, uh…” “Brother,” he said quickly, pausing briefly with a tent bag in his hands. “And please… Mike will do just fine.” I immediately saw the family resemblance with Dylan, looking similar… if Dylan was at least 30 years older. With most of the introductions out of the way and the gear now divided up between the three cars, the team split into two groups. Kevin and Lucas would be on their own, bringing up the rear, but Phil, Jeremy, and I chose my dad’s car, while Dylan, Sammy, and Fred, chose Mike’s. For the next hour, we all joked aimlessly as the woods began to thicken and the road became less paved and more inclined and winding. Looking out the window, with my sister’s words still on my mind, I kept my eye out for any wolves. I didn’t see any… but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Now, normally, the family would make the trip in one go… but I think most of the group was still unused to small bladders… including me. So, coordinating via text, each of the three cars pulled over at one of the last gas stations before the campsite. It just had two pumps, and the bathroom was less than desirable, but needing to go as badly as I did, I didn’t complain in the slightest. In fact, if I had to ascribe any word for my feelings… it was worry. Worry about my future. Worry about Amanda. Worry about a million and one things, but mostly, the growing needs I had been having to pee more often. “Hey, Pete! Check this out!” Dylan called over to me. I looked over and besides Jeremy and Fred, everyone else from the team was gathered around an unfurled newspaper. Curious, I walked over. “Your dad got a few papers for kindling just in case,” Phil explained, but look!” I saw various ads and articles talking about everything from global warming to a new tax break to makeup brands, but homing in to where his finger was pointing, I saw what he was referring to. “Damn… I can’t believe that one of the ’87 group is getting off without any time served.” Most of the group had either been killed as they had deployed the stolen virus, committed suicide while they did it, or had been so badly affected by the mutated ARV strain, that they were newborns… permanently. Most felt that was enough punishment, but a few had managed to avoid stronger doses. Recently, a few were sent to trial. “Freaking unfair, man…” I could sense the hatred in Fred’s voice. It was common enough as all of us had lost something, and now, it seemed the group would go free because they were suffering the same fate as us. It just… didn’t seem fair. “I swear… if I ever find that guy in Building 4…” Without even looking, I could already hear Dylan’s knuckles crack in anger, resentment, and frustration. I shared them all, and I think my dad could see it. “Alright, alright,” he said quickly, taking the paper away from us. “Enough looking at this. We need to get going before sunset, and besides, there’s nothing any of you can do about this now. This camping trip is supposed to get you to think about something else and celebrate a victory. “This…” He gestured to the paper. “This is not a victory, and I’ll get each of you to burn a copy later to let out those feelings then, okay?” It was hard to let it go that there might have been a traitor and terrorist at Linfield… at least until I saw the old family campsite once more. Going every summer for just about as long as I could remember, stepping out of the car once we stopped, a flood of memories came pouring back to me. Each was sweeter than the last, and now, even the ones that I remembered when we got soaked or when the racoon ran away with our marshmallows, were pleasant. Looking around, everything felt the same… but also very different. Coming here since I was at least four, it was strange to see the same trees, the same firepit, even the same… outhouse. It was all like I remembered… just older. Well, except for me… “Come on, Pete,” Phil beckoned, now removing the supplies he could from the back of my dad’s car. I then realized that I had drifted off a little bit there, but Phil just smiled. “Good memories I’m sure but come help me put up the tent. And… let’s try to do it before the others.” I nodded but Phil approached me and then looked around briefly. “I don’t know about you, but dibs might get a bit weird. Dylan and I talked while you were in the restroom. We play this correctly, and all three of us can share a tent. I don’t know about you… but I’m not really wanting to sleep in the same tent as Sammy… or Jeremy…” Sammy and Jeremy were both great, but both were starting to slip a bit. Sammy was just an anomaly in his bout of Infasia, but Jeremy was sadly all too common. Sure, he was four, but I could see him dwindling down as well. He was a slow regressor for sure, but things were starting to catch up with him. And reading between the lines, I don’t think Phil or Dylan wanted to risk finding out what he was like at night… particularly if he had consumed too many liquids. Unfortunately, my regression reared its ugly head once more. I had set up tents hundreds of times and I probably could do it blindfolded, but losing years also meant losing one’s strength. Maybe I blocked it out, but I never remember having so much trouble trying to open or fiddle with the most basic of things. Peanut butter jars, salad dressing bottles, stiffened doorknobs, packaging, removing labels, and of course, the dreaded buttons that seemed to be everywhere in my life now… like some sadist had designed younger clothing to maximize the chance of a kid having an accident. So, now, linking the poles was easy enough for the tent… even pushing them through the sleeves wasn’t bad… but the peg on my side might as well have been trying to bend a metal rebar. It just wouldn’t budge. And as much as I hated myself for thinking it, looking over and seeing both Phil and Dyland struggling as well made me feel a little better at least. “Need a hand there, Pete?” I looked up from my struggle and saw Lucas standing there in front of me offering a helping hand. No judgement, condescension, torment, or anything else that some ARs feared from their now physically older siblings. Looking over, I saw Dylan and Phil stop and look at me with desperate expressions to accept his offer. “Yes… I just…” I held up the pole and the small peg it had to insert into. “I just can’t get this blasted thing in the hole!” Lucas nodded and now, without Dylan or Phil struggling on their ends, the pole went in easily. “There.” Again, no boasting or anything… just my brother helping me out. “Hey, Kev!” His roommate looked over from their already erected tent to the side. “Can you give me hand with this and do the other side for me?” Kevin smirked for a brief moment but nodded. “Sure thing, roomy.” Almost skipping over to Phil and Dylan, after a little wobble in the pole, it slid into place. “Got it! Now the other one.” And in seconds, our tent at least had the frame. Of course, being there already and with a little prodding from my friends, I got Kevin and Dylan to help out with the rainfly as well. Humbling, yes, but now, our tent was up. Looking over to Sammy, Fred, and Jeremy… they were much worse off. “Hey, uh, Lucas… can you, uh…?” I then gestured over to my struggling friends. “I think they need help as well. Can you…?” Lucas waved his hand, clearly sensing my discomfort in asking for his help. “Say no more. I’m on it. Maybe just get your stuff inside the tent before dad starts messing with the fire. You remember that one summer when he used that random wood he found?” Lucas was reminding me of something I already knew, but he also had the decency to cover it up with a now-funny memory. “Oh… yikes. I totally forgot about that.” I then turned to Phil and Dylan. “Quick! Six or seven summers ago, our dad found this random wood and stuck it in the fire. Ten minutes later and it almost exploded! Almost everyone’s sleeping bag partially melted that night!” A little panicked now, they both scurried off, and with a slight nudge from Lucas to join them, I did as well. Ten minutes later, all four tents were up, and everyone’s gear was safely unfurled and tucked away inside. Curiously, I thought I saw Jeremy adding something to his sleeping bag. Remembering Phil’s ominous wording earlier, I wondered if he was more right about his nocturnal problems than he knew. Still, I didn’t have much time to think about it. Dividing the camp up, Mike got to work setting up the rest of the camp, Lucas and Kevin herded the team to look for more firewood than the few logs we brought along already, while our dad got to work setting up the fire. I was so grateful that this fire didn’t explode that I almost didn’t even notice Kevin and Lucas watching over our group. Pausing for a second, I then noticed their eyes focus briefly on Sammy, Jeremy… and me. I looked away before I think they noticed, but it bugged me for a while after that. Lucas was great, but I was starting to wonder if even he had his limits regarding his treatment of me with my new age. I didn’t want to think about what that would mean for the coming days, but for now, it was like a tiny splinter… concerning and maybe even annoying, but not my most pressing concern for the moment. Getting back to the picnic table and fire, each of us gatherers nearly floated back on the wafting smells of the now burning wood and the spices from the food my mom packed. “Good grief, Gregg! This smells amazing!” My dad chuckled and nodded. “Old family recipe. Tin foil packages… totally customizable but season the meats and vegetables just right and… they just sing.” I could almost see the drool hanging from his mouth. “Careful now,” Mike began to joke. “You look anymore lustful over the food and Karen might just have a problem on her hands.” “Nah.” My dad seemed more relaxed and giddier than I had seen him in months now. I knew he loved me, but I wondered if camping was him getting back to a small sense of ‘normal.’ “It’s her cooking. No competition there. I mean, why do you think I married her?” “Wait… really?” Mike asked, almost believing him. “No,” my dad said grinning, “but her Italian soup is something of a legend. Remind me to get you a taste the next time she makes it.” “Sharing mom’s recipes again, dad?” Lucas asked coyly, strutting into camp to our guilty-looking dad. He could only chuckle at being caught, eliciting a laugh from most of the group. But it was all fun, and that was the point of all this. Increasingly, the Department of Education and the newly formed cadet branch of Regression Affairs were pushing for more activities for younger ARs. Apparently, too many nationwide were cracking, and often, the results were less than ideal. When Warton first heard the proposal of us going camping, I don’t think I had ever seen a more eager person. Still, not caring about any of the politics, optics, or reasons to come here, an hour later, we had all made our tin foil packages, and using the coals to one side of the firepit, cooked them nicely. Now, with full bellies, mine of onions, potatoes, beef, carrots, and celery, everyone seemed content to pretty much just zone out in front of the fire… until Jeremy spilled a little of his own foil meal on his shirt. “Oh no!” It wasn’t bad, but the stain was obvious, and more importantly, the smell would have lingered well into the night. “Don’t panic, don’t panic!” Mike bolted up and dabbed the stains on his shirt with a few paper towels. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. “Well… drats. Come on, buddy. We need to go get you a new shirt before tonight.” “Aww!” Jeremy pouted. “Do I hafta?” “Yes,” my dad confirmed. “Your shirt is what we call a smellable. All sorts of creatures are going to be attracted to it, and that’s no good when you’re camping.” Nodding, Mike gestured him away. “Now, come on. Let’s see if your mom packed you a spare shirt. Trust me, it’s no big deal and we’ll get you sorted in no time.” His words were true, and I knew that, but there was also a strange feeling I was getting now of apprehension. Having come here at least once every summer, even last year, but now, I couldn’t help but think of bears, and thanks to my sister, wolves. It was hard not to imagine them coming into camp, hungry and bloodthirsty. It was irrational, and I knew that, but that tiny fear just didn’t want to go away. Satisfied and accompanying our s’mores, my fears weren’t helped in the slightest when Fred asked everyone to start sharing campfire stories. They started innocent enough… past camping trips all over the country, legends and tall tales from the region, and even one about a pig, a mountain, and a stream. All were pretty normal… but Mike started the ghost stories first. By the time we got to the cannibal story, I was nervously bouncing my knee up and down. By the time we got to the fourth and final story of the night, I was almost staring out from the backs of my hands and through my fingers. “And the boy cursed the creature, but the creature vowed revenge for the boy making fun of his cloven hooves. The boy shrugged it off as the funny creature disappeared into the fog. The boy then went to bed and felt his feet getting pulled. Thinking it was just his dog again; the boy ignored the feeling. The next morning, he felt a pain. Was it his knees? The boy checked and his knees were still there. Was it his ankles? The boy checked and his knees were still there… but he saw red. Panicking, the boy removed the rest of his sheets and saw his feet… and his toes were gone.” Fred almost whispered that last part, and we all leaned in. “I told you I would be back!” he then screamed, causing several of the party to jump in their seats. Not liking the story one bit, I finally closed my fingers and shut out the world. “So, remember, never make a deal or make fun of a creature you meet along the road at night.” “Well… that was very… interesting, Fred,” my dad said warily. Considering that his story was about a magical land of dreams, sweets, and gold, Fred’s story was very different. I think he might have said something more and ended things right there himself, but not long after I finally pulled my hands away from my eyes, he yawned. A few quiet moments later, Mike yawned as well. Seeing them both, Lucas leaned forward. “Hey dad… I can stay up if you want me to. I got a bunch of sleep last night and I’m wide awake. Plus,” Lucas then looked over to me, “I think a few of these guys might not be tired either.” My dad and Mike seemed hesitant, but Lucas stared back at my dad intently. It was an unspoken communication between them, but I remember when we used to do the same. Often, it was to avoid creating a scene, and at least half of those times, it was Lucas or me trying to convince our dad with a burden of trust. Now, it was just Lucas trying to do the same and be trusted with all of us. “Very well…” my dad said a little reluctantly. “You and Kevin need to stay up for this, and…” “I’ll make sure the fire is out, check the site for loose trash and bits of food, lock the cars again with any smellables inside…” He then paused and looked back at the rest of the team. “I’ll make sure to watch over everything, okay?” Somehow, I felt I was included within that ‘everything’ bit, but I didn’t make a big deal of it. Besides, even though I could tell that my dad was still reluctant, he packed up his chair, and then he and Mike finally went inside their tent. Not long after, doing most of the more labor-intensive jobs around camp today, I could already hear them both snoring. Seemingly waiting for their opportunity, Kevin then pulled out a big bottle of what I could only make out as rum. “There you are…” he said wistfully, like find a long-lost friend. “Hey, pour me some, will you?” Lucas almost immediately requested, holding his small camp cup up to the firelight. Kevin seemed only too grateful to oblige his request. “What is that?” Jeremy asked inquisitively while most of us couldn’t get over what we were seeing. “It’s… adult sauce,” Kevin said slyly, clearly taking a hint as to Jeremy’s growing Infasia… only this time, Jeremy caught on. “It’s alcohol, isn’t it?” For once, I could see a little of his old rage pop back in. “We’re not babies, you know! We’re just…” He trailed off and didn’t finish his thought. Meanwhile, Kevin looked extraordinarily guilty, but everyone’s thoughts were soon interrupted. “What the…?” Dylan almost shouted at us, seemingly just as perplexed and confused about the bottle before him as the rest of us were. “You brought alcohol on this trip?” “Yep!” Lucas said triumphantly. “Kevin and I are celebrating the end of a successful term paper, but… we also realized that for most of you… you might not get another chance to drink for years.” The puzzled and judgmental looks on everyone’s faces left. For a brief moment even, I saw both Sammy and Jeremy stare at the alcohol almost like they were once again adults. Kevin and Lucas chuckled. “So, I take that as a yes?” Not having a drink for months now, I was only too eager to stand up and be the first in line to get a drink. “Don’t mind if I do.” Everyone else quickly joined up behind me, but… Lucas stopped Kevin before even a drop was poured. “Wait…” I could see a wave of regret pass over his face and then his eyes flash over to Mike and our dad’s tent, still slowly emanating a low snoring sound. “Maybe we shouldn’t… maybe we should…?” “Relax,” Kevin said casually. “It’s just a little alcohol. Won’t even pour that much… I swear. And besides, I heard most of their livers will regenerate before morning, and getting drunk is pretty tough at this stage… or am I wrong?” All of us collectively shook our heads, and Kevin immediately looked relieved. “See? No big deal. So, come on Lucas… for them.” “Fine…” Smiling Keivn began to pour, and Lucas let up his protest against it. Walking away, and it was only for a second, though, but I thought I saw Lucas pause and seem regretful over what had just transpired. I wondered if there was at least a small part of him that was seeing me as that six-year-old kid in all this and his ‘elderly’ brother’s concern was making its way out of him. For now, though, I didn’t care. Sitting back down in my camp chair, I only cared about the spiced rum now in my cup. Already having a little apple juice inside of it, taking a swig tasted like if fall was a drink. Burning but full of richness and a crisp aftertaste that reminded me of my times with Oliver back at Simon’s Big Top Playhouse. Out here tonight, all that now felt very far away. Looking around, it was readily apparent that most of the rest of the group felt similarly as they drank it. Jeremy seemed the most hesitant, but even his cup was soon empty. Unfortunately, having a small body, I quickly felt the effects and slumped back in my chair along with most everyone else. For their part, Lucas and Kevin both cracked some smiles at the site. “Pretty stars…” Sammy mused, his eyes wide and mouth open in wonderment. “Yeah…” Fred said, staring at him like he had just admitted to wetting his pants or something. “Maybe we should talk about something else… but what?” The group thought for a moment, and while Lucas seemed hesitant, he also seemed intrigued all of a sudden. “Well, what about talking about our problems or maybe a secret we want or need to get off our chests? After all, wasn’t all this meant to be some kind of coping for you all?” “I’m in,” I said quickly, toasting my cup to his idea. “Same…” It was about the same for everyone, only varying a few degrees more positive or negative about the notion. Chief amongst the more negative ‘same’ words was Phil… but still, we all agreed, so first up was Fred. “Hmmm… well, you all know that I used to live in LA, right?” We all nodded. “Well, you all knew I acted, but out there, I got to be a bit of an up-and-coming celebrity… nothing big, just a few pilots and some guest staring, but I was rising quickly… until I got hit by the mist.” “Crap!” Kevin announced boldly with some disappointment. “Anything we would know?” Everyone began asking the same question… often overlapping with each other. “Wait!” We all stopped our questions and stared intently back at him. “I won’t tell… even if you guess. Once all this is over though and a few more celebs have announced about their ARV condition, I’ll let you know a little bit more about some of the parties I went to.” “Sounds intriguing…” Several of the group nodded and murmured similar sentiments. Volunteering now, Jeremy went next. “I… uh… I’ve gotten a lot clumsier… and forgetful… and I can’t sleep anymore without Stripes!” He kind of blurted out that last bit, but we got the gist. “Okay… no big deal,” Dylan noted, trying to remain calm in a situation where Jeremy actually looked a little panicked. “But who… or what is Stripes?” Jeremy tried to mumble out a few words, but mostly it was just him second-guessing and mumbling something about the jungle. Finally, seeming a little hesitant, Jeremy ran over to his tent, ruffled around his sleeping bag, and then came back over with something in his zip-up sweatshirt. Sitting down, he then pulled out a small stuffed tiger “Uh… this is Stripes…” “Oh! I get it now!” It seemed to just click with Kevin and few others that Stripe wasn’t a person… he was a comfort item for Jeremy. Being regressors, most of us shied away from anything juvenile. Still, whether one was willing to admit it or not, comfort items just came with the territory. Honestly, though, after the ghost stories tonight, I wouldn’t mind having a stu… ‘Woah! Bad brain! Bad brain! Don’t go there, Pete. Don’t go there…’ “Oh! Wait!” Like he had suddenly remembered something, Sammy dashed over back to the same tent and pulled yet another object. I hadn’t seen him mess around like I had with Jeremy, but walking back over proudly, he displayed his own stuffed animal. “This is Mr. Frog,” he declared proudly. “Well, he’s very…” My brother seemed to struggle to find the words, but his eyes then lit up. “Colorful! Yes, colorful… and green!” Lucas was a good guy and despite what he might otherwise be thinking, I appreciated him complimenting something so juvenile in the possession of one of my friends. Considering my brain and that I was still regressing, I knew a skill like that with him in my life was going to be useful. Volunteering next, almost like he was waiting until two sets of snores could be made out from the ‘adult’ tent, Dylan went next. “Uh, as you all know now, Mike is my brother. What you might not though… is that I now live with him… and his wife, Sheila.” “And that’s the… secret?” Fred questioned, joining the ranks of the rest of us seemingly perplexed about what the secret was. I mean, we all knew now that Mike was his brother, and considering he was on this trip officially sanctioned by the principal, being his caregiver wasn’t much of a surprise. Dylan shook his head though. “No…” He then took a giant breath. “My secret is that while I think clearly and maybe even measurably better… I kind of like living with them… and them as my caregivers…” “No shame, Dylan…” It was an odd sentiment coming from Sammy, so entrenched in his own bout of Infasia, but hearing others before, it was much less unheard of than one might think. ARV was hard for sure, but with regression came a sense of freedom and blank slate start at life. Remembering the pressures and burdens of adulthood, I couldn’t blame someone in that position to share our lives. “Yeah,” I agreed. I then took a deep breath. “I… well, I like some aspects of all this as well.” Looking over, I could see Lucas raise an eyebrow at that statement, so I knew I needed to be clear. “Some things are easier… like joint pain from old injuries… but I also just wish we wouldn’t lose things on the way of gaining them as well… like me losing my adult teeth in favor of baby ones. Like digging my own grave, Lucas looked at me clearly shocked. “Why… why didn’t you tell mom?” I just wanted to focus on our confessions, but I knew Lucas needed to know as well. “You haven’t seen mom with some of this stuff… she… collects things.” “Collects?” Dylan asked, leaning forward. I nodded. “Yeah… she’s collecting all that stuff somewhere and then making a big deal of it in the mornings. Like it was great getting money for each tooth I lost, but… I just… why does she need to do it? It would be… well, like a museum of the old me and a constant reminder in that house that something is tucked away that is a visible and painful reminder that I’m no longer the man I used to be.” I didn’t mean for all that to slip out, and I could see the shocked my sympathetic faces on the group. It was clear that I was in the minority here, but maybe feeling a sort of sympathetic bond, Lucas immediately got up and came over to hug me. It was a bit odd, but easing into it, I couldn’t deny that it felt amazing. Thinking back to Amanda, I just hoped she could grow into someone more like Lucas in the future. After that, we all exchanged a few more secrets and stories, but even though he followed along and voiced his sympathies, Phil still hadn’t shared with the rest of the group. It wasn’t a big deal, but looking over, I could see both Fred and Sammy whispering and looking right at him. It wasn’t long though, much to the seeming chagrin of Fred, before Sammy questioned it. “Who was that pretty lady with you in the parking lot today, Phil?” Sammy and Jeremy were both in one of the various phases of Infasia. Maybe it was due to his age, but Sammy was far more pressing and forceful in getting his way in most arguments... and he wasn’t shy about asking questions. Being a sort of school-wide mystery, Phil’s secret was almost legend now. I had heard so many stories of who he was and saw the second-hand evidence, but now… everyone had seen the pleasant-seeming woman drop him off this morning. With the question posed though, Phil could either respond or stay silent and seem suspicious. After all, the identity of the ’87 terrorist group member was still unknown. “Phil,” Lucas said after glaring a little, “you don’t have to say. You have a right to your privacy and none of us will ever bother you about it if you don’t want us to.” Phil seemed to ponder the notion for a little bit but then shook his head. “No… it’s… it’s been enough time that I’ve been able to at least mostly process everything and talk about it now. It’s just… it’s just a little difficult.” Now seemingly glued to the edge of his seat, Kevin nodded. “We understand, so just take your time and go when you want.” Smiling in gratitude, I saw Phil then look off into the distance, and absent-mindedly or not, began to rub in a circular pattern all around his ring finger… almost like something had been there for years… and was now gone. Thinking back, it didn’t take me long to remember that Phil once wore an ill-fitted wedding ring. “I… I was married. Ten years this July…” His absent wedding ring spoke volumes about tis state now though. “And I…” He blinked a few times, almost like he was trying to physically restrain his tears or any scrap of emotion. “I also had a kid… a daughter.” “We were happy… Grace was two and I was just leaving to pick her up from daycare when the mist hit.” Phil then briefly looked off into the distance. “We tried, but Jenny… we talked, and we agreed to separate.” “Divorce?” Fred asked, his sad eyes likely similar to the rest. It didn’t take a genius to know that the woman in the car wasn’t his wife… and all that could imply. Phil shook his head. “No… just until I bounce. She said she would care for me then, but she said until then… it just might confuse Grace.” Instantly, I thought of the problems my family faced with Amanda… and she was four at the time. I couldn’t even imagine having a daughter who’s only three at the most now. Still, I couldn’t keep quiet. “Why… why would you agree to that? You’re losing your wife and your daughter. I can’t judge, but… why?” Phil seemed pained over my question, and I thought for a second that I might have pushed my friend too far. “I… I don’t know. I was at such a loss before with losing everything I was… I just didn’t register what I was really agreeing to… what I was giving up.” “But isn’t that illegal?” Lucas asked, leaning forward in his seat like most of the rest of the group was as well. Phil nodded. “Now, yes, but this was before the court ruling about that. Now, no matter their physical age, all ARs are required to have counsel present when deciding any biding legal matters. When I was going through all this though… it didn’t exist. I wish to God that it had…” “And you can’t undo it?” Fred asked, looking just as much in pain as he was now. Phil shook his head. “No… I tried to undo things… I wish I could… but it’s too late. I made a rash decision based on things I didn’t even know about. Now, my wife and daughter are two states over and the government assigned me a caregiver until they return…” He trailed off for a second and looked like he was trying desperately to keep his tears at bay. “And that’s even if they come back!” I saw a few ugly tears trickling down his cheeks. “But the worst part is… I don’t even know if I want that.” “You… you don’t even know you want that?” Dylan almost looked offended. “What does that even mean? Are you leaving them even if they come back?” Phil hesitated but ultimately shook his head. “No, no. It’s just that…” Phil paused, and I could see the heavy burden all this was having on him. “They represent a complicated… thing in my life. So many questions and so many ways that things could go horribly wrong. I spend my nights dreading the day they see me again… and what if they reject me?” Thinking back myself to Molly, I sadly knew that his fears weren’t entirely unfounded. “And now… my caregiver is kind. She cares for me… more than just her job and she doesn’t make me feel small or worthless,” he confessed. “Even if it’s something stupid or minor, she makes sure that I’m okay... that I’m valid and not just a broken thing. Its… its hard to give that up for something so uncertain.” I could tell there was one more thing, even when he stopped for a moment. “I… I don’t want to admit it, but I just don’t feel that I would get the same from my wife or daughter. I mean, even if I remove my own emotional insecurities from the equation, I’m not so sure I can be the man who they need me to be anymore…” Looking around, I could see that his words had struck a nerve in most of the group. While Kevin and Lucas enjoyed the last of their rum, I could sense that nearly everyone else likely had a similar story about a situation in their lives where they now felt inadequate… often with someone they used to know. We younger ARs were ostensibly still the same people we were, but speaking personally, each time I dwindled down, I felt less confident in that notion. It was like trying to recreate a picture of yourself from memory… things looked about the same, but as you looked closer, you began to question if it really was a copy of yourself, or now just an imitation instead. Still, I knew well enough from looking at Phil that he needed a little validation and comfort tonight. He had opened up to us all for the first time, and I didn’t want him to feel like trash because he did. “I’m so sorry, Phil…” Looking almost relieved that someone had finally said something, Phil limply smiled back up at me. “And I won’t give you advice tonight… I don’t think that’s my place after all, but if you ever need to vent again… don’t hesitate to reach out, okay? We all have… problems, but it’s not going to do anyone any good if we keep it inside.” “And the same for me, buddy,” Dylan joined in. “reach out if you ever just need to talk or hit a ball around and bitch about life. I know it can be… difficult…” It wasn’t lost on me when his eyes drifted over to the tent where Mike was soundly snoring. Soon, the rest of the group said the same, and despite the regret and heavy burden etched into most of our faces, the sentiment behind our words came through loud and clear. Admittedly, though, when offering to help himself, I could see everyone questioning how someone like Sammy could be of help. Still, the gesture seemed to be appreciated, nonetheless. “Thank you all,” Phil said, wiping away a few tears. “I think… I think I needed this.” Smiling from his seat, although with a few tears still sparkling against the campfire’s light, I could see that Lucas’ plan had worked perfectly. Seeing us from afar, he probably knew how badly we needed a release valve of some kind with all the problems and pressures we faced in our new lives. The camping trip itself was supposed to do that, but I felt confident in the notion that Lucas knew we were going to need something more… or at least more than we were getting from just a few s’mores. A little while later, feeling less burdened and pleasantly warm from the rum, we all toddled off to bed. True to his word, despite his buzzed state, Lucas and Kevin ensured the campsite was both safe and clean. Checking in on each of us after, tents were zipped up close and we all snuggled in for the night once they were satisfied enough. Closing my eyes, I felt sleep take me and I don’t think I ever felt better. Even my dreams were pleasant and sooth… Like a bolt of electricity arcing through me, I felt a pang of urgency. My eyes shot open. Feeling a sudden urge from my bladder, I feared I didn’t have much time. Not even being able to find my headlamp though, I fumbled around in the dark the best I could. Fortunately, I had kept my boots nearby and while tying them was proving more difficult than usual, I managed to pop them on before racing to the somewhat distant outhouse. To my relief, being in the middle of the night, no one was inside. I rushed beyond the door and made sure to lock it, remembering back to when my mom hadn’t and was visited briefly by a raccoon on one of our summer trips here. Not taking any risks tonight, I doubled checked the locks while I danced around on the spot, trying not to wet my pants right then and there. Owing to some excellent luck and a little preparedness though, I made it at last. Immediate and freeing, I gushed out a torrent of pee into the outhouse pit beneath the seat. Having to hop up onto the seat, I frustratingly realized that I was almost too short for the stupid thing, and now… I felt dangerously close to falling in. That could not happen, so as soon as I finished, I hopped off just as fast as I could. I didn’t notice I had dribbled a little until a snugly readjusted everything back on. Grimacing, but just wanting all this to be done with, I hurriedly washed my hands with the provided hand sanitizer, but with my mind off not having to pee so bad, I was both relieved and horrified. Admittedly, even being an AR, the day had been amazing. The team won a baseball game, both my parents came and then supported me in their own ways there and now out here in the middle of the woods, and I couldn’t deny that despite a few tears, there was a palpable camaraderie and joy amongst the group that I always found to the benchmark of any good camping trip. And while all that was true and I wasn’t even trying to fudge the details, like I did when I tried to have a good day when in fact I didn’t, I knew there was another side to this coin that I couldn’t deny. Increasingly, I felt that my mind had begun to take over in strange and frightening new ways. Sure, the physical stuff wasn’t a picnic, but I felt I was… to be blunt, losing my mind a little. Even just walking over here to the outhouse, I almost had an accident as I thought I heard a wolf somewhere off in the distance. It was purely just my imagination, but the fear that Amanda had seeded in my head before leaving for the trip felt like another bad sign… in a series of others lately. ‘You can only deny a few of the random thoughts for so long, Pete… I mean, would it really be so bad if you had a stuffed animal?’ It was some scary stuff, but then to top it all off, there was the physical stuff. Yeah, I knew I had to expect it given ARV, but feeling the small bit of damp in my underwear was just a painful reminder of my dwindling body. Tonight, my need came so suddenly, and I almost hadn’t made it. ‘Almost’ was the key word, and while today was good overall and that one word was keeping me from bursting into tears, I couldn’t help but wonder how long ‘good’ days like today would last. Thinking about all that had just transpired though, I could already see the cracks… I just hoped I wasn’t wrong or too late to fix this.

Hey everyone! I added another chapter here as I realized I opened a plot thread and then didn’t close it for the rest of the plot. Big whoops on my part, but since I caught it now, I added this extra chapter to work it in and flesh out the story a little more. I think it works best here, but this now means this story is up to 26 chapters. Next, as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Currently, there is practically a three-way tie between the stories, so make sure to cast your vote. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2 or down below. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. https://strawpoll.com/ajnE16aXAnW Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 13: Slips of Triumphs I was slipping and there was no doubt about that. It was down the long hole and skid path of regression that so many similarly faced now in their own ways, but where most began to halt in their regression, I felt like I was plummeting. I wasn’t slowing down in the slightest, and worse, my adult teeth had literally fallen right out of my head a few times. It started back when I first came to Building 3, but being the back molars and all, they could at least be covered up. Now, I was losing some of my front teeth and my ‘baby’ teeth were slow to come in. Needless to say, I tried not to smile too much around my friends. But that was actually proving very difficult lately. Like a switch had suddenly been pulled, after my near finalization of the relationship with Molly, I felt a sort of odd freedom now in life. It might have been depressing as hell as I lost another tether from my old life, seemingly permanent now even as a friend, but people like Dylan, Phil, and even the miniature Jeremy proved more than willing and able to take over that gap in my life. Joining the tee ball squad as well, Mrs. Middleton proved more than adequate as a coach, and spurred on by their idea, we began competing with two of the other local institutes for ARs. Ever the supporters, my family even came out to see a few of our games since I had joined the team. Despite it just being tee ball, I felt like I was actually accomplishing something in life now, rather than just purely losing everything. Being in a mixed class in the mornings also proved invaluable to my self-esteem as I was still able to outshine some of the mentally Infasia-induced members of the class. “That’s a beautiful butterfly!” Mrs. Middleton praised as most of the class continued to work on their weekly draft activity. “Thank you, Mrs. Middleton,” I responded, trying desperately to hide my blush over her praise of something so small. Likely noticing but not wanting to make a fuss, she just smiled and continued on to help some of the younger, or at least the ones more prone to Infasia… or had just been here for too long and sort of forgot what it was like to be an adult or independent. Looking over at Jeremy brandishing his child’s safety scissors, I feared he had started to veer dangerously into that territory lately. “You know… you can just take the compliment,” Dylan noted soon after, fixing the wings on his own brilliantly decorated butterfly. “Her praises won’t kill you. In fact, they might even make you smile… if you would just let them…” I sighed and nodded, hearing a now-familiar song and dance from my friend. Since he had joined our group, Dylan had been working tirelessly to convince Phil and I to just have a good time at this age. Jeremy did as well, but his occasional slips and his status as a four-year-old didn’t hold as much weight as Dylan’s words did. Still a six-year-old and one of the smartest in the class, his advice felt more like someone telling you to take a beach vacation, as opposed to the seemingly more ‘dumbing down’ in life advice type when it came from Jeremy. I might have been biased for Dylan or against Jeremy, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be a little kid… I only wanted to not be so sad all the time. Regardless, about an hour later, it was time for lunch. Adapting to the new schedule here, my stomach was already rumbling, so moving onto lunch, I guess I was too focused on my next objective. The next thing I knew, I was sprawling over myself and barreling headfirst right into a nearby trashcan. Several giggles and outright laughing were immediately thrust upon me. Huddled there on the floor and half-dazed from hitting the trashcan, I was pissed. I saw one of Butch’s minions nearby and another telltale guilt-ridden face of the AR who had likely tripped me today. Hauntingly though, while I felt the anger seething inside of me at yet another tripping incident, I felt fear as well. I was on the ground and surrounded by several ARs who were now perilously taller than me. Regressing to what I had to guess was about eight years old, my status as one of the older kids in Building 3 had long vanished. Now, slow regressors and new arrivals here towered over me, and their laughs made me feel even smaller… and even younger. Building up inside of me, whether the laughing crowd were Butch’s minions or not, I began to feel a pang and need to cry, if nothing else, just to let out my trapped feelings. Fortunately, Phil and Dylan were soon on the scene and quickly helped me to my feet. “Buzz off, you vultures!” Dylan sneered at the jeering crowd around us. “Don’t you all have some place to be?” “Come on, Pete,” Phil coaxed, now dusting me off a little from my tumble into the ground. Worryingly, I noticed a change in at least the past week between us. Before, when I first met him, he was at least two years younger than me. Now, comparing our heights at least, we seemed roughly the same. It was hard to tell, but I increasingly felt like we were about the same age now. Just the other day, I was dusting him off after being tripped. Now, he was doing the same for me. Guiding to me lunch, I felt the fear and rage building all up inside of me as I passed my peaches around with my fork once we sat down and were served lunch. I think Dylan noticed my pensive stare first. “Penny for your thoughts, Pete?” I stopped stirring and looked up, only to see Dylan, Jeremy, and Phil all staring back at me. I sighed and nodded. “Yeah… I just… I’m getting so pissed at Butch, Ian, and their little gang. I mean, what right do they have to just be going around and tripping us up?” Dylan sighed as well and gestured into the air. “I guess the same as any other prey versus predator. They’re bigger, stronger, and there’s more of them with their minions. It’s a losing scenario that we just have to endure here.” “You seem to avoid it well enough…” Thinking back recently, I had never once seen Dylan or Jeremy get tripped. I briefly wondered if they were minions as well, but being Phil and I’s friends and constant companions, I never saw them act out anything of the sort, so I quickly dropped the thought. The absence of their bullying was nice, but it still puzzled me as the days wore on and Phil and I continued to take our ‘accidental’ dirt falls. Dylan seemed a little uncomfortable at the notion. “Yeah… now though…” “Now?” I questioned, raising one of my eyebrows purposefully to further emphasize it. Looking over to my left, Phil leaned in, seemingly curious as well. After a bloody nose the other day after tripping headfirst into a locker, I couldn’t blame him. Dylan nodded. “That’s right. Every AR in this building eventually comes into contact with Butch and his gang. It used to be a lot worse with only a few cameras around when then place first opened, but now, they have to be more careful… hence the tripping from the minions or now operating only in secluded hallways. Come August, I doubt there will be a spot at all here that won’t be watched and recorded.” “But we can’t wait that long!” I protested, seeing as it was now only the end of April, by Dylan’s estimation, we still had to endure Butch’s wrath for four more months. “You avoid it, so come on. Spill!” “Alright, alright!” Dyland said defensively, even putting his hands up in front of himself like a shield against my verbal insistence toward him. He then sighed and grimaced for a moment. “Look… I was just like you. I endured it for three months at the start… with Butch’s predecessor. Cruel SOB for sure and he was only transferred out of here a few weeks before you got here, but he stopped harassing us long before then.” “Again… how?” I insisted. “You just need to wait for the new arrivals to take your place,” Dylan confessed. “There are only so many minions for the number of students here. You just kind of get… well, for lack of a better word, forgotten about.” I didn’t like his solution in the slightest. It wasn’t a guarantee and was only shifting the chaos and pain to another lowly member around here. I didn’t owe the ‘fresh meat’ in Building 3 anything, but it still felt wrong. So, gathering a plan in my head already for weeks now, I looked deeply at my friends, finally ready to let them in on it and to help me make it a success. “This can’t go on. You all know more people around here, so gather up anyone who’s not a minion and meet at recess ten minutes in once we’re outside.” Jeremy and Phil looked like they were in, but Dylan immediately seemed hesitant. “What are you…?” “Just bring the others, okay?” I pressed again. This time, Dylan only nodded in compliance, the urgency in voice seemingly convincing him enough at least for now. So, as planned, ten minutes into recess after lunch, a crowd formed around me over by the baseball diamond where we practiced tee ball. Seeing the at least 50 or so students, it was readily apparent they we all weren’t as alone as we once thought we were. Knowing what my initial plan required, it was just what I needed to see to give me an extra boost of confidence. Standing on one of the benches to help with my growing height problem, I stared back at the crowd and took a deep breath. “Everyone! Please! Listen up!” I mumbled after, but most shot their attention straight to me. For once, I didn’t mind being the center of attention in my new regressed body… the baseball diamond where the team I was on winning multiple victories helping as well. “We’re all here because of Butch and his gang. I don’t know about you all, but I’ve had just about enough of it! I say we deal with Butch and his gang… once and for all. Who’s with me?” Almost at once, like the dam keeping us all silent and weak suddenly bursting open, the crowd cheered… seemingly all except one… “And just how do you plan on doing that?” Dylan asked somewhat skeptically. Considering that he was now ‘out’ from under Butch’s reach, or had simply just been forgotten about, his skepticism wasn’t unfounded. Lashing out now could just pull him back into the fray, but I knew for my plan to work, I needed him completely on board. So, hopping down, I smiled at my friend. “You’re nervous and that’s okay. It’s good to be nervous, but we need to do this now. Too many of us are getting squashed under his rule and just look around!” Everyone immediately looked to their left and right. “There’s more of us than we ever thought! Butch rules by fear and with his minions, and they only do it because they are scared. We stand up now, and that fear will go away, and then there will be even more of us!” “But what if we get hurt more than we already are?” a shorter AR then questioned from the rear while most others seemed simply overjoyed. Unfortunately, it might have hurt this new cause, but I also knew that I had to tell the truth, so I nodded. “Yes. That might happen…” Several panicked murmurs went up around the crowd and I saw some no look very hesitant. “But it’s a price that we might need to pay. It might hurt today or tomorrow, but we could almost guarantee not being hurt ever again here by their gang. Isn’t that worth it?” I still saw the hesitation though, and I really couldn’t blame them, but I also needed them all on my side for any of this to work at all. Pointing to Phil, I shouted back. “This is Phil. Many of you know him, but you also know that his tripping last week caused a bloody nose. Right now, we’re falling into the ground and that might mean some skinned knees, but what’s preventing us from getting hurt more?” I let the question simmer among the audience for a second, when another AR spoke up. “Nothing?” I wanted to smile so badly right then, but I just internalized the joy at the response. “Exactly…” I turned back to face the crowd. “Nothing is absolutely right! Everyone getting tripped is just one accident away from another bloody nose… or worse! We fight back now, and all that is over… forever!” Everyone cheered, but ever the thinker and seeming group skeptic to all this, Dylan leaned over and grabbed my shoulder. He didn’t raise his concern to the group, but he looked at me right in the eyes. “Please… tell me you have a plan, Pete. Please tell me that you haven’t just gotten everyone’s hopes up for no good reason.” Relieved that I did have a plan simmering in the back of my mind already, I smiled and nodded. “Of course… let’s meet up after tee ball today to discuss it more, okay?” For now, Dylan nodded and then finally joined in on the cheering, a small smile of hope beginning to appear over his lips. Simply put though, my plan was about as basic as they came, but I knew that was also necessary. Dealing with a whole range of ages and possible bouts of Infasia or physical limitations, I knew that the plan had to be as straightforward and as easy to memorize as possible. So, taking a page from Butch himself and a few others around Linfield, I divided the plan into three stages. First, we had to separate Butch out from the rest of his gang. Being comprised of only ARs, I made sure we focused on the lower tiers first. A combination of blackmail for a few, stemming from illegal substances we knew about in their possession, and a few well-timed instances of a teacher showing up to witness one of their antics against us, meant that by the end of the week, only Butch and Ian were really left from the main group. Fortunately for us, two had regressed too badly last week and Butch had yet to find replacements for them. Second, we had to deal with the minions, but they also came easy enough once the bulk of the gang began to falter. Reaching out to one of Butch’s previous gang members that had been forced out into Building 4 last week, he was more than compliant to give up the goods for his former leader. Butch had dropped him easily enough, and if rumors were correct, even ratted him out to the teachers to force him out to gain a new and stronger ally, so getting the information from him was all too easy. Setting our growing coalition on each of the minions, we confronted each one at a time. We saw the palpable fear in each minion, but with them seeing the gang slowly get taken apart, we saw that same fear soon begin to crumble away. Further, for the more stubborn, we lied and claimed we had footage of them tripping at least one person and that more of their victims were now willing to come forward and tell on them. Knowing Warton, even in Building 3, they would have likely been subjected to detention or have gotten booted off the tee ball team by the end of the day, so, they easily complied and left Butch’s service within the hour. But that still left Ian and Butch. They were the hardest and while everything else was going great, I still didn’t have a concrete plan in place for either of them. Recess and tee ball practice were excellent grounds to build our coalition against them, but they still remained a threat… until after practice one day, one of the older but Infasia-affected students came running up to us. “Pete! Pete!” The ten-year-old was out of breath, and due to his Infasia, his parents didn’t seem hesitant at all to dress him in more juvenile clothing, so the Winne the Pooh decal on his shirt seemed strange for a moment to be worn by someone not in Building 4, but I still wanted to hear him out. “Take a second and just breathe, Sammy,” I said calmly, briefly pausing the putting of my gear away. “When you’re ready, just go nice and slow and tell us what’s up.” Nodding and breathing almost comically in and out, Phil, Dylan, and I had to quickly stifle our laughter at the scene before us. It wasn’t Sammy’s fault, but his Infasia was getting worse and most wondered if he was going to be the first in Building 4 who was above the age of eight. Still, he was loyal and helped the cause out more than once at this point, so when he finally stopped breathing so heavily, we all listened in. “I… I heard that Ian’s havin’ trouble!” “Trouble?” Dylan questioned. “What kind of trouble, Sammy?” “The tests!” Sammy practically shouted, clearly with a sense of pure joy. I wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal, but I saw Dylan and Phil immediately look elated, so I listened in further. “He’s been failin’ most of his scores. Mrs. M says she’s worried. He was, uh… he looked sad at that. I couldn’t believe it!” “When?” Phil asked, his urgency seemingly undaunted and more elevated than usual. “When did this happen, Sammy?” “Jus’ now!” Sammy then gestured to himself and his still labored breathing. “Iss why I ran out here! He’s regressin’ jus’ like the rest of us!” I couldn’t believe my brain hadn’t put that together, and it briefly concerned me, but I quickly pushed past it. Right now, we had larger concerns to think about… namely that we now had a way in to bring Ian down as well. So, by the following day at recess, we had our plan all lined up. At recess, we knew that Butch and Ian were separated to collect various dues or to check out their ‘empire’ here in Building 3. It meant a time they could enforce their will on the rest of us with less eyes on them, but more importantly, for us, it meant they were more vulnerable. See, while Butch was a slow regressor and easily still 12 at the youngest, after Sammy’s report yesterday, we knew for certain that Ian hadn’t been so lucky. While his size was still above average for a typical seven- or eight-year-old, his intimidation factor from his old ways had significantly shrunk. Further, while no one seemed to know who his guardian or caregiver was, his appearance had significantly straightened out. Gone was the greasy hair and leather jackets. Dark clothing was still king for him but now, knowing what we knew about his test scores, it looked less intimidating and more… frankly, like he was trying too hard. “I don’t know about this…” Dylan said pensively as we waited nearby. “I mean… yeah, he’s not the greatest guy in the world, but this?” I sighed. “Yeah… it sucks, but he brought this on himself. Especially with our efforts last week, Butch is now solely relying on Ian to enforce his rules. Take out Ian and Butch is just one guy.” “A very big and very scary guy…” Jeremy corrected from behind us, almost squeaking a little in fear. “Yeah, buddy,” Phil agreed, patting him on the back for some comfort, “but one big and scary guy. Not A big and scary guy with an enforcer willing to do whatever to back him up.” “He’s right,” I noted, turning my attention back to our prey. “Besides… it’s gone too far now to back out fully. After all, did Sammy manage to slip in that drug to his drink?” Dylan nodded. “He almost got pummeled for even looking at Ian too long by Butch, but he got it in there. Hopefully, it will be worth it…” “It will… trust me.” Dylan nodded and turned back to Ian as well. His skepticism was clear in the beginning of last week, but after the takedown of three other gang members, the turning of a former one from Building 4, and the removal of the minions now, that skepticism had vanished. It also didn’t hurt that ‘accidental’ tripping’s had dropped almost to nothing already this week. Butch’s empire was teetering on the edge, and most didn’t question the plan any longer as a result. Looking over now though, seeing Ian collect the first of the debts this week, he was already falling into our trap. Maude, another member of our coalition, had initially taken up an offer from Butch one day a while back now to assist her in purchasing some afterschool snacks in the summer. It was made as a kind offer, but ever since, she had to pay interest on that ‘kind gesture’ and the others since then. As a result, getting her to join our cause was a no-brainer, and today, she was going to serve as the perfect distraction. “I think… yes. I think this should cover the payments this week,” Maude noted, handing over the two dollars of her weekly debt to Ian. It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but not wanting to tell her caregiver, her daughter, about her previous foolish deals with Butch, it was two dollars she had been pulling from her current lunch budget. Hearing her last week, she was tired of skimping on the brownie she was supposed to receive. With her help, the plan was going off without a hitch. “Gimme that,” Butch demanded, swiping away the two dollars and placing it into the bag he collected on behalf of Butch. We weren’t sure just how many exactly were under Butch’s thumb, but from the ones that had come forward at least, we knew that Butch was squeezing at least a thousand dollars out of Linfield each week… even still having dealings over in Building 2 to boost that number considerably. Regardless, looking back at Phil, I gave him the thumbs up. “Go for the play…” I whispered. Nodding and like a game of telephone, Phil passed the signal to the group we had formed to put on a play out at recess. Deeming it just cute from the five- and six-year-olds of our class, Mr. Aguilar and Mrs. Middleton had readily approved of them, even going so far as to help them in creating several props this morning for their performance. Using markers and construction paper, they all had effortlessly crafted plants, a sun, and most importantly, a few bugs… including bees. Remembering an incident from the old days, one AR informed us that Ian had a phobia of bees. It was just too perfect. Now squinting in to see if they were moving into place, like a hungry shark going for the kill, I saw the cartoon bees closing in on Ian… still distracted by Maude. “Say… you hear about that Linfield might be harboring one of the terrorists from group ’87 here? Wild if so, huh?” Looking down at the bag with the money, Ian just shrugged. I could see her hesitancy, but I could see that Maude knew she needed to play for just a little more time. “So, I was wondering… how much do I have left to owe you all?” she questioned to Ian. He groaned, but as instructed with plan B, she pushed further. “Oh, please, Ian. Can’t you do that for a poor soul like me? I mean, surely, someone of your position would know those numbers… right?” Ian’s eyes grew wide and fumbling about, we saw him draw a single piece of paper from the bag he was holding. I couldn’t quite make it out, but the several groupings of numbers screamed that it was the ledger for at least most of Butch’s debtors. “Uh… yeah… here we are…” I saw his eyes scanning the supposed ledger, and my heart longed to see it. “It seems with a rate of 30% and then the five additions of food since then… it seems you have… what the hell?” I could feel Dylan, Phil, and Jeremy all press in around me to get a better view and I couldn’t blame them. Coming into Butch’s view, I smiled as I saw our agents take their places. Taking the initiative, the play began… about a few happy bees buzzing about in the park one day. Simple enough and the big googly eyes of the bees practically ensured its cuteness… much to the joy of Mr. Aguilar, Mrs. Middleton, and the other teachers viewing from the other side of back play area. Seeing the wide and fearful eyes of Ian though, I suspected that our plan was working perfectly. “Now?” Phil asked, pressing in on me. If his labored breathing was any indication, I knew he was at least a little excited about all this. Still, I shook my head. “Not yet… loop around from behind and signal Maude to press him further behind the tree. We don’t want the teachers seeing what’s next… just in case.” Nodding, Phil ran off. Soon enough, Maude edged up on the highly distracted Ian and caused him to retreat further behind the trees. The bees were enough, but I didn’t want the teachers to see what was going on. It was above reproach of the rules… I had made sure of that with the help of a few former lawyers in our coalition, but we didn’t want to take a chance… particularly with what we had planned next. I then tapped Dylan on the shoulder. “Give the signal… move in…” Nodding as well, Dylan then scampered off to signal to two of the members of the play. Bees from a distance were one thing… bees up close however, were an entirely different matter. “This it?” Jeremy questioned, now taking over Dylan’s spot. “Almost…” I said, still keeping my voice down… again, just in case. “Just make sure to watch my back occasionally for signs of Butch. He comes over here and sees us like this and all this ends in a very bad way, okay?” Jeremy nodded and I went back to watching everything unfold. “Hey!” one of the members of the play said jauntily skipping over to Ian. “You wanna part in our play? We kinda need more bees…” I could see her smile break through but anticipating younger ARs to not keep a straight face, Dylan had made sure their smiles were just a natural part of their joy. “No… no… I’m uh…” I could already see Ian sputtering and eyeing the nearby cutouts of the bees in fear. “I’m good. I’m…” “Oh! But we insist!” the two members of the play then leaned in, each holding their own bee props on the sticks, as well as two others… just as they had been instructed to do. “No… no… please… no…” Ian began to plead. I kind of felt bad for the guy… especially with us playing on an old fear and his new younger and more fragile emotional state, but as we had all discussed, it was for the greater good. Mrs. Middleton’s and other teachers’ hands were tied by the rules. They were wonderful but were also chained to the Linfield system and had to play their given role here. Breaking them could mean getting fired, and as much as Mrs. Middleton’s sappy and sing-voice sometimes in the mornings bugged me, I definitely didn’t take her genuine kindness for granted. So, the rest of us had to take matters into our own hands. “Now?” Jeremy asked impatiently. Smiling over, I saw the fear in Ian’s eyes. Checking my watch, I nodded back to my younger friend. “Now, Jeremy.” Like a rocket going off, Jeremy then bolted over to behind where Maude and Ian were. As instructed, Maude still stood passively by. I could see her eyeing the bushes behind them, and in the planning stages of this while Phil was worried that she was going to give the whole thing away, I felt confident that Ian was going to be distracted. So far, it looked like I was right. Then, on cue, Jeremy jumped out of the bushes. “Hey! I want to join! I wanna be a bee!” He practically yelled his answer, and even expecting it, Maude quickly looked surprised and even jumped a little. Seeing him crouch down before, the two offering for Ian to be the bee weren’t as much, but as for Ian himself… Ian screamed… and right on cue, a large wet stain formed on the front of his pants. “Oh, of course you can be a bee, Jeremy!” one of the members of the play sang jubilantly. “How about you take this bee prop and go off with the… oh my…” Her eyes then directed downward and to Ian’s crotch. The diuretic we had given him, plus the bees, and the sudden shock of Jeremy jumping out from behind the bushes all proved to be too much for Ian’s regressed bladder. Almost immediately, and not even according to plan, the other of the two bee performers took off and ran for the teachers. “Mrs. Middleton! Mr. Aguilar! Ian wet his pants! Ian wet his pants!” Like a cannon blast going off, those words echoed quickly to all students outside. Even those over in Building 2 seemed to hear what was going on and swarmed to the fence, much to the chagrin of Miss Linton and the other teachers outside today. Ian, the terror of Linfield and former boxer and mob enforcer had just wet his pants… and worse for him, everyone knew about it now as well. “Make a path! Make a path!” Mrs. Middleton commanded as she hurried over to the scene before us. As she did so, I blended in with the gathering crowd seamlessly, Dylan and Phil gathering around me as I did so. Also in attendance was the bulk of the coalition we hard formed and the gang’s former minions. It didn’t take much effort to see the growing smiles on most of everyone’s faces… except for Ian. “I… I…” He seemed at a loss for words, as he looked down horrifically at the wet patch gathered in his pants now. He was so distracted that he even didn’t see Jeremy casually step on the dropped ledger and move it away from the unfolding scene. “Oh Ian…” Mrs. Middleton knew his tricks and the terror he had wrought, but her heart was big enough for even the toughened criminals around here. From what I had seen, that maybe more than anything else was the biggest difference between Building 2 and 3. Building 2 everyone was still who they were from their pasts. Here in Building 3 though, everyone got a relatively clean slate, and most actions were just because someone ‘couldn’t help it.’ I doubted that for people like Butch, but for the rest of us and now Ian, it just meant an understanding smile from Mrs. Middleton. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you to Nurse Gina. We can talk more afterwards…” Helping him up and then guiding him away, Mr. Aguilar was quick to break up most of the crowd. “Alright, alright. Nothing to see here anymore. Go back to playing and have some fun until the next bell rings.” Most of the crowd dispersed, including an ashamed and annoyed Butch, but a few of us stayed behind. Checking in with the crew involved that had just been involved without little plot, everyone seemed okay. “Great job everyone. I know this type of work can be a little morally gray, but it will be worth it in the end.” Several of the long faces then snapped back to overjoyed ones. If I had to take a guess, the prospect of Butch’s number two man being escorted off in wet pants was likely now just kicking in. “Pete?” Jeremy asked after a second of everyone still cheering around us, now reaching down and picking up the dropped ledger. “Should we turn this in, or…?” “No,” I said rapidly. “Hold onto that or give it to Phil or Dylan. The money inside will get returned… just not yet.” I glanced at the biggest evidence we had and smirked at its retrieval. Even more than the take down of Ian, I knew the ledger was even more critical for the next step. Not seeing much of Ian for the next few days, most heard that he had either been directly transferred to Building 4 after his wet pants incident or that he had been sent home to recuperate and regroup before deciding next steps for next week when he could be evaluated better. Some even heard that he had been sent off to a special facility for repeat delinquents, but I didn’t think that was going to be his fate. Sighing and thinking of Butch today, I wasn’t so sure about him though. “I’m not so sure about this,” Dylan said warily as we walked down the hallway after our morning class and before lunch. “It’s just… the plan is so… so…” “Yeah,” I conceded, “I know. Trust me, if there was any other way, I would take it, but… I just can’t think of any other.” I then looked at the crowd that had gathered behind me. After it had leaked that I was responsible for the initial plan for Ian, the coalition had grown considerably. Now, Building 3 had gained relative peace that would seemed like it could endure long into the future of this place. It was a good feeling, but looking ahead, I knew we still had one more step to guarantee that type of future. So, knowing we just needed to get it done, with a sigh, I opted for the only solution I knew would almost definitely work and bring Butch down. Turning the final corner now, almost as a sense of poetic justice, we were able to meet Butch in the one hallway that still didn’t have a camera… the one where he had confronted and broke Harriet. Being one of the few hallways without a camera now, we knew that he was going to be there, using it almost as his homebase in between classes… almost like his hideaway from the security and the rest of the teachers of the building. With Harriet confirmed as never leaving Building 4, the scene unfolding before us almost felt too perfect. Still, as I saw his lurking and still hulking form at the end of the hallway, I dreaded knowing what I was going to do to finish this job the right way and once and for all. “Butch!” He stopped fumbling with his book bag, seemingly more scrambled than ever. With the bag gone containing the ledger that Ian had dropped the other day, everyone in Building 3 admitted at tee ball practice yesterday after class that they had never seen him so frazzled… and that included him before all this during an FBI raid at his former base of operations. Phil thought he was stressing out and getting a bout of Infasia himself, but I recognized his actions as more of desperation than any type of infantile or regressive tendencies. The jaws and sharp talons of his doom were closing in, and what’s more, I think he knew it, but knowing him by now as well, I doubted he would go quietly “What do you want?” he snarled, looking back at the crowd blocking any chance of escape he could have. “I guess I should be asking you that question,” I retorted boldly. Butch might have been a bully and a jerk, but he was smart when it came to his minions. With bigger numbers, even when you’ve lost a lot and you’re weaker than before, you still felt a sense of strength and power. “I mean, you’re the one who’s lost the most here.” “You think?” He then put his bag down and slowly stomped over to me. “I came here alone before, and I built up my forces easily.” “Like Ian and all the others?” I questioned quickly. “Shame about them, huh?” Butch only shrugged. “So? What about them? They were nothing… stupid fools and worthless.” He then scoffed at their mere mention. “They were easy… simple to fool into my gang. Loyalty and all that. What idiots! But still, I did all that back then, and I can do it again… and there’s not a damn thing you all can do to stop me.” I stopped myself from scoffing at his boost of confidence in the face of overwhelming odds. If he wasn’t such a dick to everyone, I could see the qualities of a confident leaders brimming all around him. Seeing that now, it was easy to see how he had built up both his previous gangs to be so successful. Still, I knew that no matter what, he had to lose today. “You really think that’s the case still? Look around you!” Butch did temporarily, but not seeing anyone, I think he got my point. Glaring back at me now, he gritted his teeth and nearly growled at me. “I thought it once and made it the reality. I’ll do it again and this time I’ll learn from my mistakes. Ian and the others were wastes of space. I took in babies, and I suffered the consequences. I was wrong and I can admit that, but now that I know that… next time, I can get others into my gang more sparingly. This time, they’ll be just like me. Stuck here and slowly regressing, but strong, and determined to scrape for what is rightfully theirs in a sea of you stupid and pathetic babies.” His confidence really was something to witness, but again, I knew he had to lose this fight. He was right after all… he could learn from his mistakes and come back stronger than ever. Phil and Dylan had both voiced that concern before. Now, I had to show that their faith in me hadn’t been misplaced. “You’ve lost, Butch. Just accept it and give up now. Live your life here in seclusion and all alone… Do that, and this won’t have to escalate any further.” “You think I’m afraid of you? You all are nothing!” Stomping even closer to me now, his point was scarily well-founded. “You can barely stand up to my chest as it is. You’re nothing now! You were nothing when all this started, and before you know it, you’ll be even more of nothing after all this. Just a helpless and drooling baby for me to stomp down easily enough and rule over. Your time in this place will be just long enough after I control things again, that you’ll feel my wrath… that is until you go and start pooping your pants as the highlight of your day. Mark my words, that day is coming soon. I know it.” I didn’t like this sincerity in his words one bit. More than a threat this time, his words seemed more like a promise… almost like he knew something more than I did about my own fate in this place. It was unsettling, but maybe that, and combined with his refusal to give in, fueled my inner strength for what I knew I had to do next. “Maybe… but look at yourself.” He briefly glanced down, and I then gestured to the empty spaces at his sides… the ones previously occupied by Ian and the rest of his gang. “You’re all alone here now. You just have your fists and your intimidation over the rest of us. We’re not afraid of you anymore. Sure, you could still build up a gang and try to trip us up like you did before, but you won’t have your minions ever again. Like everything else you lost in this life, you’re nothing now. You only held power here because you were the biggest and strongest of the lot. And if you think about it, that’s all gone now. Pure and simple, it’s nothing. You, Butch, are nothing.” I could see a sliver of doubt cast in his eyes, but his self-confidence was almost something to be admired. Not backing down at all, he just glared down at me. “I don’t care what you think. You mean nothing, Peter.” Turning away briefly, he dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Now scram… before I get… nasty.” While he was still looking though, I shook my head and held my ground. “No Butch. Not this time. We aren’t afraid and we’re not leaving besides, aren’t you curious about how everything fell apart? Aren’t you curious about how you were undone so quickly after months of ruling over us?” Butch, still slowly turning, stopped and looked at me intently. I smiled inside, knowing I had him. “It was me, butch. I brought you down…” I cast a mischievous look toward him and chose right then to crack a tiny smile. “And doesn’t that just make you angry? You call me a baby, but I brought you down… so how does that make you feel?” I breathed in and braced for what was about to come. It was the only way… “Maybe like a… baby as well? Butch scoffed. For a second, I thought my plan had failed. “Yeah? Well, maybe this will teach you who’s in charge! Maybe this will show you who the real baby is!” I gulped as I saw him reel back with all his might. His punch landed right on my right cheek. I was thrown back into Phil’s and Dylan’s waiting arms. They knew this was coming… I had warned them as much, but I could still see the hesitancy and uneasiness on their faces. “Pete… stop. Please.” Phil begged. “This doesn’t have to go further…” Dylan whispered, helping me back to my feet. “You can still walk awa…” “Hey!” Butch thundered still back in his original position and seemingly madder than ever. “You conceding this fight already? Are you really that much of a baby already?” I glared back and sighed. I had thought of all ways to get Butch out of the way here. Being a slow regressor, he didn’t leave me with many options. “Geesh. You call that a punch. I guess you really are the baby here, Butch.” It was a lie, but it had the intended effect on him. As soon as I got back within striking distance, he landed another heavy left punch into my jaw, this time bringing me to my knees. Towering over me, he dropped to his knees and crouched over me. He glared at me for a second and then back to the crowd behind us. “You all need to understand that I’m in charge here. You are all pukes! Got it? Nothing more! I’m the one in charge here!” Two more punches… one to my arm and one to my chest. It hurt like hell, but I stuck with the plan. Angry and I guess trying to get any kind of whimper or babyish response out of me, Butch stood up and began to kick me in the side. “Do you get it?” he practically yelled. “I’m in charge! You’re a baby! B-A-B-Y!” Between each letter, he kicked me again. Being in his own little egotistical bubble, it was just enough of a distraction for me to give the signal to Phil and Dylan. Hurrying off, even through the pain, I couldn’t help but smile. That just pissed Butch off even more. “You maggot!” He dropped back down to his knees over me. Grabbing me by the collar, he held my bloodied and bruised form up to his face. “Cry, damn you! Shriek like the little baby you are!” Knowing it would piss him off even more, I shook my head. “Ahhh!” Butch threw me back down to the ground. My head smacked against the flooring, and right then, I have to admit that I was regretting this plan… especially when Butch started hitting me again from all angles. If they had all been aimed for my head, I might have died… even with my ARV healing factor. But, even through all that mess, it was still my plan. Butch was a bully and had ARV. It meant that he could escape the forms of justice from Building 2 here, but it also meant that he still had his brain intact from the old days. It was focused on solely lining up power and wealth. It was a vicious combo here against so many hapless victims. His smarts also gave him distance from all his crimes, so teachers couldn’t do much. His minions did that work and his gang had provided a buffer. Now, they were both gone. Before the coalitions began to break him down, his minions and gang served their purposes well. For example, today, his minions would have been blocking the hallway to where we were… like had happened with Harriet. His gang might have even told him to stop or to give up and retreat… or serve as lookouts when teachers were approaching. They had before, and that was why he was so untouchable. Key word… was. Today though, there were no lookouts, so Dylan and Phil moved right on through the gathering crowds in the hallways followed by Mr. Aguilar and Mrs. Middleton. There were no minions to block the path to us either… only the coalition, which as instructed, parted easily once they saw the approach of teachers. And finally, there were no gang members to pull Butch back when the teachers arrived. Which is why they then found Butch, on top of me and pummeling me into the ground. I couldn’t have planned it better. “Get off of me, you stupid bastard!” Butch screamed as Mr. Aguilar pried him away from my battered form. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” Mr. Aguilar wasn’t a strong man by a long shot, but it was still a fully grown man compared with a 12-year-old. Difficult, but Butch didn’t stand a chance. “Pete? Pete? Can you hear me, Pete?” I could barely see out of my swollen eyes, but I could feel a gentle arm was now guiding me upward and propping me against something soft. A blinding light then flashed into my eyes. I squinted and tried to block the intruding presence but considering the number of punches I received in both my arms; it was very painful. “Pete? You in there? How many fingers am I holding up?” I blinked a few times and maybe it was my healing factor already going to work, but I saw an extremely concerned Gina crouching down in front of me. I squinted and looked at her hand, just making out a rough shape. “Uhh… free?” I momentarily panicked at my somewhat garbled words and carefully moved my tongue along my gums… not teeth, I realized… just gums. To my annoyance, Butch had knocked a few of my adult teeth out. “Very good.” She then turned off the penlight and pocketed the device into the neckline of her scrub top. Visiting her a few times now after being tripped so many times, I had noticed that she had started to choose more juvenile themes, rather than the standard ones I had first met her in. Today’s theme was Cars. “Okay. I don’t think you have anything broken or too serious… you’re actually pretty lucky that Butch lost a lot of his muscles since he first came here. Would have been a lot worse otherwise.” “Okay… lemme geff up!” I tried to get up, but a giant pain surged throughout my body, and I clenched my teeth. “Woah.” Gina gently guided me back to whatever soft form I had been lying against. “Easy there, Pete. You might have a better healing factor but Butch did some damage today. Let me or Mrs. Middleton take you to the clinic and check you out there, okay?” Still feeling the sting, I could only nod my head as I now realized that Mrs. Middleton’s own body was the soft form that I had been feeling. Soon, using her own strength and my youthening body, she then carried me away, Dylan, Jeremy, and Phil all racing after us as we trekked through the hallways, out into the courtyard, and then into the clinic. Gina then turned around to my friends before entering. “Just hold on you three. Pete needs some serious care now. You all go onto lunch and I’ll…” “Gina…” I rasped from Mrs. Middleton’s arms. “Le’ ‘em sthay…” Gina seemed hesitant to do so, but beyond our original plan to collaborate on our stories, I felt I could use their company as well. Gratefully, and maybe with a little prompting from the ever-vigilant and knowing Mrs. Middleton, Gina allowed them to stay. Due to the severity of my injuries, despite Butch’s reduced strength, my ARV healing factor, and Gina’s practiced hands, my mom was still called to come in and pick me up. Just as she got to Linfield, we were explaining everything to Principal Warton. “I see… and why did Butch just suddenly attack you, Peter?” she asked, an air of suspicion all around her. I could tell that Phil was a little nervous that she was going to catch on, but I had made sure not to defend myself on purpose. “I don’ know… noh’ fo schu’.” I really hated how my missing teeth were affecting my speech so badly, but I also knew, with the help of a few pain meds Gina had given me, that Warton needed to hear the story in my own words. “Ih’ coul’ be wha’ we foun…” I then gestured over to Dylan, who removed his backpack and produce the crowning jewel in all this plan… the bag of money and the ledger. “What is that?” Warton questioned, now taking the bag away and looking inside. “Wait… is this…?” Phil nodded. “We found it the other day after Ian wet his pants.” There was a little too much pride in his statement, but Dylan and I had anticipated some of those types of factors… and the notion that Warton was utterly transfixed by the money and the ledger now in her possession. “We saw it and were debating if we should hand out the money ourselves, or…” Playing his role, Dylan then made sure to look guilty. “But then today happened… Butch was obviously flustered, and we were just talking to him. We didn’t want to give the money back though… and he just started hitting Pete!” “What!” a voice cried out from the doorway. A slight shiver running up my back, I could recognize that voice from anywhere. Glancing over, I saw my mom… deeply concerned and clearly agitated. “Who beat up my son? What kind of place is this, Warton?” Her rage was palpable, but Warton ran a school comprised of all sorts of people. Compared to former drug dealers and criminal bosses of the city, my mom was nothing to her. Still, she kept her usual diplomatic tone up. “Now, Karen… I’m handling the discipline side of things… seeing this new evidence though…” she said gesturing to the money bag and the ledger inside, “I very much doubt that Butch will ever be returning to this school.” “Well… good!” She then quickly hurried over to me, looked frantic, but immediately began to stroke my hair, very similar to how she used to whenever I was sick or in the hospital growing up. Oddly, I felt immediately relaxed nby her simple touch. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, sweetie. Are you okay?” I nodded. “Yeff, mom.” I then gestured toward my friends. “Fey goh’ help befo’ Busch hur’ me mo’.” Seeing my missing teeth as I spoke, I could see the share empathetic pain from my mom, but her smile over to my friends, whom she had gotten to know pretty well between tee ball and any time they were over to hang out, was clear as well. “Thank you… Dylan, Phil, Jeremy… if there’s anything you all need from me, don’t hesitate to ask.” “Maybe some peanut butter cookies?” Jeremy piped up, eliciting a chuckle from everyone in the room. It was goofy and typical of Jeremy more and more lately, but it quickly cut the tension in the room. That and a nice chat with Warton as Gina finished patching me up kept my mom’s fury at bay. Of course, when we got home, everyone gushed over me and practically treated me like a prince. Lucas made sure I had my favorite ice cream, our dad fixed up my room with a walkie talkie so I could communicate downstairs if I needed any help, and my mom worked furiously to ensure I was both comfortable and satisfied… as well as making at least three batches of peanut butter cookies. When I came back to Linfield the following week, I was the praise of the entire school. I still ached something awful, but the worst of my injuries, thanks in no small part to ARV, had healed up nicely. My teeth were slow to grow, but unfortunately, the ones that began to take their shape were baby teeth. I tried not to think about it, but they were a sign that gripped my stomach in fear. It was May now and I still tried to convince myself that I looked like I was eight years old. No one made a comment on it, but being gone for half a week, I could feel the changes amongst my friends. Worryingly, Phil now seemed the tallest of the group. Worse, I just couldn’t shake Butch’s words to me. They seemed too real… to legitimate as if he knew something about me that I didn’t. Despite being transferred to another school, that one for repeat offenders at the specialized schools like Linfield, Butch’s presence was still present in my life. Building 3 worked and flowed with ease now. There were no more ‘accidental’ tripping’s and bullies still existed, but most were largely ignored or minor nuisances more than anything. I should have been happy, but as Phil’s regression slowed and mine didn’t, it left me with an unshakable and downright nasty feeling inside. Phil was slated to bounce around five or six… maybe even seven. My own still strangely stood at ‘under six.’ It was a wide gulf, and while I felt like the hero of Building 3 now, everywhere I walked, I felt the scythe of further regression hanging perilously over my head. Sadly, despite besting him, I was starting to feel that Butch’s taunts would get the last laugh.

Hey everyone! Managed to squeak in another chapter today, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get one up this weekend unfortunately. Everything is fine, but I’m going to be losing some free time coming up here soon, so I want to get ahead a little bit for those times and actually be prepared for once. With everything going on these days, you just never know what sort of flight or even general problem could pop up then, so why take the chance, right? Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 12: A Return of Old Things Butch, Ian, and his gang stared us up and down. Butch was a slow regressor and despite being one of the first batch affected, he had only just slipped into Building 3, and most felt that was more due to his bad attitude than his physical age. As such, he practically towered over everyone else… including Phil and I. “These two bothering you, Big I?” Butch practically bellowed from his immense stature a good foot above our heads. Ian looked back at us, glared, and then turned to Butch. “They bumped into me. Stupid babies didn’t see where they were walking.” I could see a few of the longer-term members of Butch’s crew wince slightly at us being called babies. They were on a faster regression track than their leader, and while they were intimidating in their own rights, those in the single digits looked wary. Still, Butch was the leader, and Ian was an up and comer and now a top enforcer in his group. If they wanted to stay in, whatever Ian said, they couldn’t object to… at least not so publicly. “I see…” Butch was a thug in a former life, but he was known to use his head more than his fists. He was deadly and the waterfront district had suffered under his rule. Most bartenders of the same bars I had frequented before with Oliver were pleased when he was ousted by the city after his empire fell apart due to the virus. That being said, now, he seemed to be building a new crew. Taking out a small notebook, he began to scribble something down before staring back at us. “You two are now on the list. Consider yourselves warned around here. Either do my bidding or “Your bidding?” I asked, seeming to take it as a threat but not being quite sure what else it entailed. Being here longer, Phill already seemed to cower under his words. Butch nodded. “You’ve offended one of my group. In the old world, at my prime, I would have messed you up in some dark alley or gotten one of my guys to do it… make it look like an accident or a warning to everyone else… slow and painful-like. Now, we gotta be sneaky.” I could quickly see his annoyance in that approach. “So, instead of me taking out your knees or removing your thumbs, I’m going to give you a choice. Join as one of my low-level enforcers or minions or face the consequences.” He was still being vague, but his threat was now obvious. Butch was a bully, plain and simple. His violent tendencies hadn’t been curbed at all on his regression journey and now Phil and I had to submit or fall victim to one of his schemes. Phil seemed terrified and willing to lay down right then and there, rather than face any consequence, but I knew that would never lead to anything good. So, I beat him to answer for us. “No.” “No?” Ian stared at us questioningly. His shoulders hunched up, and he looked like he was ready to start swinging. “What do you mean… no?” I think Butch could sense his anger and briefly held up his hand in front of Ian’s chest to keep him back. “I mean no…o,” I clarified, my voice annoyingly cracking at the end, and now noticing a few of the previous onlookers to our conversation fleeing the scene. “In all contexts of that word, I mean no. Whatever you’re offering… Phil and I aren’t buying.” To be honest, Butch looked more disappointed than anything before sighing and pocketing his little book once again. I noticed he had made two small gestures, like marks to our names, before he did though. “Very well… be seeing you two…” He gave a little smile and then walked away. Looking back at Phil, he seemed like he was ready to collapse. Helping him move along in the hallway, I could only breathe a sigh of relief as I pulled him forward and started walking away. “Come on, Phil. Let’s get to class. We don’t want to mi…” It then came out of nowhere. In a single second, my foot tripped over something and holding onto Phil, we both were sent flying forward. Letting go of my friend, I braced for the impact of the hard tile floor right in front of me, the maroon tiles beckoning us forward like bulls in an arena. “Oof!” “Ah…” Phil groaned as turned over and examined his knee, probably where he impacted the hardest, like my right hand just then. “What was that?” “I don’t know,” I confessed. “I must, uh… I guess I just tripped or…” Looking back to where we had just come from, I quickly saw what looked like a mournful eight-year-old hurriedly walking away from us. He briefly looked back, and when we made eye contact, he just looked panicked and ashamed. Curious, I helped Phil up and tried to see where he had gone. I lost him but then saw something else instead. There, at the end of the hallway and looking quite pleased with themselves, was Butch and his gang. I then realized that the hidden wrath of Butch and his gang was a systemic bullying through others to get there way and rule over here. Grabbing Phil and heading to class, I just hoped I was wrong. I wasn’t… As the weeks rolled on and Phil and I’s regressions continued, we soon joined a subsection of Building 3 that had chosen to stand up to Butch rather than join him. We all felt collectively proud, but after a few weeks of accidental tripping, spilled items when carrying them, slips in the hallways, and just general bad luck, that feeling was starting to fade. “Just stay away from Butch and his gang as much as possible,” Dylan warned us one day after Phil and I took a nasty header in the dirt outside. Once again, I saw a kid walking away and looking guilty, while at least one of Butch’s gang hung around nearby to ensure the job had been done properly. “Yeah… kind of hard with all the people he’s turned to his side over here though, but thanks, Dylan.” The six-year-old staring back at me only nodded in a shared pain of sympathy. Despite his physical stature, his mind was as sharp as ever… he even claimed it was better actually due to now having the time to actually learn all the subjects and pretty much just dusted off his old knowledge. Garnering a reputation, most knew him as one of the few at that age who could likely join the workforce after only a year of reeducation once he bounced. Even that seemed to be more of a voluntary thing, however, as Phil and I got to know him a little better. “No problem. Just be warned. All of them got booted out of Building 2 last month for incessant bullying of other ARs even ten years older than them. I guess some people were just born to be bullies or something.” “Any hints on avoiding their little posse?” Phill asked, still slightly perturbed at me for not just saying yes to them in the first place. “Just steer clear. Butch’s in another group. Football to our baseball… I think? Anyway, just avoid him at recess and lunch and you’ll be good… at least to keep this from escalating. Or else…” “Escalating?” I asked, even fearful of the mere mention of this getting worse. It was one thing to nearly come home every day now with a sore knee, hand, or elbow, or at least having to constantly reorganize my papers or crafting supplies when ever someone made me drop them, but worse… worse just sounded like something utterly terrible and to be avoided at all costs. Dylan sighed and his serious face became twisted and saddened. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, but… with his group seemingly fixating on you all now given how many times you’ve been targeted, I guess you need to know.” Dylan’s head then looked left and right, almost like he was worried we were being watched. Considering the numbers that Butch had, it wouldn’t have surprised me. “He picked on a few kids over the past month. Targeted the weak ones, or like you, the ones that defied them. After a while, they still refused, so Butch started targeting them outside of class as well. Picked on them so much, a few…” Dylan then trailed off. “Go on,” Phil coaxed, his finger nearly digging into his backpack over how anxious he was now about all this. “Well, a few blew past their bounce point…” With the way Dylan was looking, I thought he was just implying they went to the hospital or something… ‘But this?’ “Ho…oly…” My mind reeled with the implications as my voice cracked yet again. Even with my still ‘under six’ age I would bounce at, it was still a firm number. It was the one thing I think that kept so many of us sane. It was a situation of, okay, seven is bad, but at least I’m not four. Now, all that seemed to go right out the window. “I… that’s possible?” Dylan nodded grimly. “Yeah… no one talks about it, but it’s a thing. More common with us younger types… my caregiver was freaking out when she found out about it all. Fortunately, I think I’m almost bounced now, but still… it’s some scary stuff.” “I wish I didn’t know…” Phil said, pawing at his ears and looking like he had just seen a ghost. “Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but yeah. Everyone knows stress can speed up your regression, but if your mind snaps completely, you can regress younger. Beyond the one-day regression victims, the first students in Building 4 were the ones that broke completely. It was horrible to watch. In the morning, they were playing tee ball and almost completely bounced. One round of bullying just gone too far later and they’re plummeting into diapers. So, my advice is to avoid him or break him first…” Dylan’s words stuck with me for the next few days. Butch’s gang was relentless toward Phil and I, but it became clear we were far from the only ones who were taking the brunt of the bullying now. Harriet was a former pollster and sometimes political operative at the local and state government level. She was quick-witted, had a great sense of humor, and quickly found her way into being our friend. I think Phil was a little smitten with her honestly but being a late bloomer and her looking like she was seven at best, he stayed back, and we all just remained friends. She had one problem though. It was common enough, but it started to bite her severely in Building 3 lately more so than all the other times beforehand. See, she was one of those people who tied her self-worth solely to her success in life. It gave her a drive that was useful in her job, but after getting whacked by the mist at town hall on Orange Day, those successes were now slimming. As a result, being one of the offenders to Butch who refused to be one of his minions, she became a target as well. Back today, now exiting Mrs. Middleton’s and Mr. Aguilar’s class before heading to lunch, Phil brought her up first. “Hey… where’s Harriet?” “Oh, she left a little early,” Dylan noted. “She wanted to see if she could get a better spot in the cafeteria for us today. But don’t worry… Jeremy went with her as well.” “That little pin cushion?” Phil asked worriedly. “The guy’s only like what? Four now?” Dylan sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I know it’s not the most ideal situation, but none of the rest of us could leave early today. We chose finger painting, remember?” Looking back into the classroom at our pieces now on the drying rack, I internally cursed myself a little bit for not making sure that she had been paired with someone a little more tough. Banding together about a week after Phil and I first started incurring Butch’s gang’s wrath, we had elected to go with the buddy system and passed that on to most of our class who wasn’t under Butch’s thumb. Unless you were holding hands or dragging one another long, like I had to Phil that first day, the advantage to the buddy system meant that Butch would need to expend more of his minions to trip us both up. It has been working for a few weeks now. At least… except for anyone paired with Jeremy. Still, it was too late to do anything about it now. So, walking through the hallway, we all tried to not think about the ‘what if’s’ for our friend. Unfortunately, turning the corner, we noticed a crowd starting to form in one of the side hallways not often noticed by teachers… especially if they were too busy controlling their classes… like ours were. “Wait… you don’t think?” I rolled my eyes and could feel that nasty feeling in my stomach again. “Dang it. Yeah… I do…” It was all too aligned perfectly, and Dylan nodding in agreement as well, we split off from our main class group and hurried over. Just as we got there, a small form was nearly ejected from the huddled masses. It was Jeremy… “What the…?” We all rushed over to help pick him up. “What happened?” I asked frantically, now worrying where Harriet was. “We got ambushed. Pushed over into this hallway by a mob of them. They were waiting for her I think,” he said, a little out of breath. Standing a little over three and a half feet tall, he had clearly expended all the effort he could… and still failed to help Harriet out. “Alright, move!” I tried to barge in, but the minions formed were too thick and had locked arms. Their fear of Butch was his greatest weapon. Worse, seeing them like that, I knew that whatever was going on, Butch and his gang didn’t want anyone seeing it. “Just give in!” I heard him shout from inside the group. “Don’t be such… you know… why fight… you’re just a… holy… I can’t believe… shit, are you such a…” Unfortunately, the murmurs of his minions were drowning out about half of his words, but from what I could hear, I knew it wasn’t good. “Push!” Phil cried out, clearly worried about Harriet. But the minions were too well-connected for his tiny frame and miniscule muscles now. Clocking in around nine years old, he didn’t stand much of a chance against such dedication from the minions. Then, all at once, the minions broke free and fled, shoving us to the side. Like a stampede in the jungle, Dylan, Phil, and I could do little but get pushed to the side and see a smirking Butch, Ian, and the rest of the gang flow effortlessly out in the hallway. In less than a minute, the hallway was clear except for us… and Harriet. “Harriet!” Phil called out, rushing over first to her slumped-over form. Getting closer to her though, it didn’t take us long to see the wet puddle that had gathered beneath her clothing. “What happened?” Phil’s desperation was evident. But all Harriet could do was just whimper and cling to his pants leg. Realizing she needed comfort more than anything, Phil nodded and wrapped her up in his arms, clinging to her from behind. I had once seen a ring on his finger, but even before he came to Building 3, I had seen it just one day disappear. It was just part of the mystery surrounding my friend and I was wise enough not to ask about it. Still, I knew two things now. One, Phil’s crush on Harriet hadn’t vanished, but two, Harriet no longer seemed like herself, or at least not her true age. Turning back to Dyland, I pointed to the hallway. “Quickly! Go get a teacher. Anyone! Mrs. Middleton, if you can find her. Seeming in a state of shock, he could only nod and then run away. A few from the main hallway turned and looked in, but few joined to ask if we were okay. Sadly, to them, it was just another AR around here that had lost their potty training. But I tried to think of any other explanation. Harriet was bouncing around seven, maybe six at the worst. Now, with her simple movements, her wet skirt, and her mumbled words, she barely seemed three. I didn’t want to think about it, but rushing back in with a worried-looking Mrs. Middleton, Dylan practically confirmed it. “She snapped! I know it!” he proclaimed, pulling Mrs. Middleton along. Seeing Phil trying to soothe Harriet, stopped her cold. Her face, already filled with worry, now turned to concern and sadness. “Who did this?” “Butch!” Phil shouted out, a single tear now running down his face. Getting here later than the others, I got the opinion that Harriet had been a faster and delayed regressor like me. I remembered seeing her in Building 2 my first week and Phil and her had seemed close back then… particularly when his ring disappeared. I didn’t judge… in a place like Linfield, there just wasn’t room for it. He was a friend and that was that. Mrs. Middleton sighed. “And do you have any proof of that?” Phil’s anger turned into frustration and clenching his eyes, he looked down at Harriet and shook his head. “No…” Before Mrs. Middleton could speak up though, I butted in. “But we know its him. He smiled at us when he was leaving this place. It was him or one of his gang.” “Hmmm…” I wasn’t sure what there was to think about here, but Mrs. Middleton wasn’t a fool. Warton was a real… witch back in Building 2 but Building 3 was a different story altogether. Still strict, she rarely ever resorted to any of the harsh discipline she used in Building 2… even if she was dealing with a repeat offender or AR with a known criminal or violent past. Here, other forms of justice were held, but in a case like this, they needed a witness to push forward. Being a side hallway, Butch had chosen it well with its lack of security cameras… another sign of Linfield’s hasty construction and limited budget in places. “I need to think about this before presenting this to Warton. In the meantime…” She then bent down and looked sorrowfully and both Phil and Harriet. “Phil… thank you for comforting her, but now… I need to take her.” “Where?” Phil asked mournfully, looking up at Mrs. Middleton with pleading eyes. Mrs. Middleton sighed and crouched down before placing her hand on Phil’s wrapped arms around Harriet. “You know where Phil… if she makes a recovery, she can leave, but for now… I think she needs what Building 4 has. Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Phil shook his head, but when Mrs. Middleton’s comforting hand began to pry him away, he didn’t resist. To make matters worse for all of us watching, Harriet made no move to resist when Mrs. Middleton then pulled her up and began to escort her away. “You all run along to lunch now. I’ll let Mr. Aguilar know what happened, but for now… keep your heads down and stay out of trouble, okay?” We could only nod our heads in submission as both Harriet and Mrs. Middleton disappeared from sight. Harriet had been a brilliant political operative, a strong and caring woman, but now, she was bound to be diapered and sequestered into Building 4. She was supposed to bounce any day now, but Butch unleashed his wrath on her and all that had flown out the window. While she could still come out of this new broken state of hers, we all doubted. If she regressed at all whiles in Building 4, then that would have eliminated all hope. The news of Harriet’s demise spread quickly throughout Building 3 and by the end of the next day, whispers floated even into other buildings as well. Butch and his gang came under heavy levels of scrutiny, but their minions and the fear of everyone else protected them nicely. No charges were made against them, and while Mrs. Middleton couldn’t do anything about it, I could still tell she was both upset at the system and eager to do more to help us out. By the end of the week, right before the bell rang, Mr. Aguilar and Mrs. Middleton interrupted our class’s usual controlled chaos. “Attention everyone! Mr. Aguilar and I would like to make an announcement!” We all stopped and stared at the two at the head of the class, me putting my borrowed copy of Wind in the Willows down on the table in front of me. “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Middleton.” He then turned back to the class and held up a bat. “Now, as many of you know, we’ve had some… disturbances here in the school.” Phil scoffed at the notion that Harriet was anything but a vicious and unprovoked attack, but Mr. Aguilar kept moving on. “As such, Mrs. Middleton and I have decided on field two teams to play each other in our own little tee ball league.” “That’s right!” Mrs. Middleton said, her enthusiasm brimming through as she then tossed a ball up in the air. “We will use some of our recess time to practice and then will hold more practices or even full games after school for those interested.” “So, when you all go out to recess today, if you’re interested, just come and find us,” Mr. Aguilar noted, holding up a clear sign-up list in his hands above his head. “Yes. It’s no commitment, but we expect to have a lot of fun!” I could tell Mrs. Middleton was trying, but to me, it was just another sign of our new status in life. I mean, it wasn’t even softball. Grumbling my way through lunch and then into recess, I was still deadest on not joining. Going to recess and seeing no one go over to either Mr. Aguilar or Mrs. Middleton to then sign up for their two teams, I knew it was going to be a disaster right from the start. Or so I thought… “You coming to sign up?” Phil then asked, already stepping toward both of our teachers. “Wha… aaa…?” I grimaced at my voice crack and cleared my throat, trying to pass it. Each day, it was getting more difficult to do so. “What do you mean?” I was supremely confused. Sure, Phil was a little younger than me, but I couldn’t believe that a year would make that much of a difference in his likes or what he was willing to put up with here. “You’re really going? This isn’t some sort of prank?” Phil shook his head, but Dylan stepped in as well. “It’s just a small thing, Pete. It’ll build stronger relationships with everyone here, and besides, weren’t you the one saying that there was a force to be reckoned with if we all just stuck together? Against Butch and his gang, I mean?” “Yeah, but that…” I then realized the fallacy of my argument back then that any grouping was best. Maybe it was my own ego acting up, but right then, I just couldn’t accept something like tee ball. “I didn’t mean that. This is just so beneath us. We’re adults! We should be doing almost anything else!” Phil sighed and gestured for both Jeremy and Dylan to head over already. Once alone, he turned back to me. “Look, Pete… I get it. We should be out living our lives and doing all the stuff we used to do with the people that were once such a big part of them.” I felt a tiny crack opening into his still mysterious past. “Di you lose someo…?” “But that’s not our reality anymore,” Phil quickly continued before I could finish my question about his past. “I mean… look at Harriet. She was strong and smarter than most, but Butch… Butch wore her down and she still hasn’t snapped back. No regression yet, but she shouldn’t have even been in that position in the first place. Tee ball isn’t ideal maybe, but it’s something to keep us all together and away from Butch, and it’s something we can use to let go of our stress and worries. In a way it’s almost like kickball from Building 2. So, what do you say? Are you in?” Phil was making a lot of sense but looking over at all the younger ARs scramble to sign up, it still felt too weird for me. I was regressing, sure, but that didn’t mean I had to act like a kid. I might have shrunk in more ways than I wished to admit, but giving into childish things just didn’t seem to be the way to go in life. So, I shook my head. “No, Phil. I just… I can’t.” Phil sighed but nodded in understanding at least. “I get it. If you ever change your mind though… I’m sure Mrs. Middleton will get you on her team in a second.” I nodded back to him, and soon, he was off to sign his name down and even start a quick practice. Looking around, I wasn’t the only one, but it looked like most of the class had taken their offer. Going home that day, my mind was once again swirling with chaos and negative feelings. I was losing so much, and while Phil, Dylan, and Jeremy, all rejoined me when we went to our next class and we all talked after our evaluations, they stuck around further for another tee ball practice. Getting into my mom’s car, between tee ball and most others using the buses, I was very much alone in the pick-up area. At dinner that night, I was pestered with all sorts of questions, mainly from my mom. “Honey, please tell us what’s going on. You seemed so down today when I picked you up.” “Yeah…” even Amanda agreed. “You so sad in da car, Petey. You okay?” “I’m fine,” I said bluntly. “Just… don’t worry about it.” “Oh no,” my dad said, dropping his napkin to the table. “Not that again… Remember, Pete. Your mom and I did this before. You used to say that growing up all the time. You might have the mind of an adult, but that habit is the exact same as when you were younger. Something’s up.” “Just… drop it. Please…” I looked around the dinner table and Amanda and our mom and dad were all clearly concerned for me, but I knew I couldn’t tell them the truth. They didn’t get it. ‘How could they?’ Butch, Ian, and their little gang were seemingly everywhere but nowhere at the same time. Nothing stuck to them, no matter how hard anyone tried. Later, it turned out that feeling a sense of justice, Harriet had tried to go after at least Butch. Discovering her plot though, Butch got to her first and made sure no one could prove otherwise. If I told on Butch without any substantial proof or placed myself as a witness, I would be putting myself in his direct line of fire when he got off… again. With my prognosis still being listed as ‘under six,’ I just felt I couldn’t risk dropping even further if I cracked too. So, I remained silent and just told lies. I hated doing that with my family, but right then, I felt I didn’t have any other options. I was one person and an AR with dwindling physicality and not much to show in my life for all that I had accomplished before. Butch, for now at least, seemed too much to handle. So, time pushed on and my age steadily dropped further. Each day was a new challenge with Butch and his gang, and Harriet’s continued absence just made it clear how hopeless things were. At this point, I think most were just hoping that he would get kicked out and drop out before he got to the rest of us. Foolheardy, maybe, but no one else cracked for the next few weeks, and soon, it was April once more. Crossing the anniversary, it had been one year since Orange Day. I decided not to go to the memorial service held downtown, and instead watched the ceremony unfold on TV, the day being declared a national holiday now in memorial of those who had been ‘lost’ since then. Seeing all the babies, toddlers, and kids, most of whom were the remnants of the military forces and first responders active on Orange Day downtown and in other areas of the city, I felt justified in not going. Like a flash from my future, I didn’t want to be reminded of the possible fate that waited for me when I bounced. Linfield was bad enough for that reminder already. That Saturday, my family decided to pull me downtown. Amanda needed new shoes for the spring, but secretly, I think they wanted to give me some peace in viewing the memorial and hearing the stories from others who now gathered there to mourn and accept their own fates. Getting there, the park that had once been blocked off was now fully cleaned and while the memorial had left one of the broken military vehicles and half a helicopter, the rest played nicely into the park landscape. The numbers of those affected were displayed on the stone and concrete along with a calming water feature. It was all nice, but being so close to the waterfront, I couldn’t help but look over there and mourn even what I had lost since I had been first diagnosed. I knew I was still bitter about it all, and while I appreciated the memorial, I could only see my losses. My job, my car, Molly… Heck, I even thought I saw Oliver in the mix. Seeing my reflection in the mirror this morning, though, even if it was him, I wasn’t sure if he would even recognize me anymore. Being April, it had now been almost four months since I last saw him. He was still probably the same age, but me… I definitely couldn’t claim that. Each morning, I was faced with my new reality. Before, when I looked in the mirror, I could find something to admire. Even when my facial hair receded, I could feel comfort in the notion that the hair around my temples had fully grown back in. Or, when my scar faded away from that one trip with my friends in high school that we all swore not to talk about with our parents, I could be glad that a few sunspot damages or even the start of a couple of wrinkles faded altogether. Now, though, I could only shudder with my new appearance. Asking my mom for the school bus photo frame that she kept in her office of me alongside of Lucas’, I now compared my appearance each morning to the school photo I had taken that year. To my chagrin, as April progressed, at best, I could claim maybe to be in fifth grade. So, even with my early puberty, all that was now gone. No shaving, no hair anywhere, loss of both muscle tone and height, and loss of… I couldn’t even bring myself to think about what I had lost south of the border. It was all just too much. “Hey, Pete!” Phil called out to me after class not long after I visited the memorial. “You interested at all in coming to tee ball today?” I shook my head. “No, Phil. Not today. I just… not today.” Once again, Phil looked crushed. “Well, okay… your loss, but Dylan and Jeremy are coming over to my house after as well. If you want to come over, you ca…” “No, Phil. I’m good.” As tempted as I was to interact with them after school, being my few friends now, they had done it before, and maturity didn’t even seem close to touching their activities. At best, their Mario Kart races seemed the most mature. Considering Phil sighed and put his hands in his pockets reluctantly. “Okay. Suit yourself, but Pete?” He was already turning away from me but briefly glanced back. “If you ever want to come over… the offer still stands.” I nodded in acknowledgement and then watched as he drifted into the back of Building 3 towards the baseball diamond located back there. I could already hear the laughter and sounds of hits being batted away. No one seemed sad at all back there, and honestly, a little part of me wanted to crack and join them… but the stubborn adult still in me pulled me back the other way to be picked up by my mom. Trying to clear my head once more, I walked around the block. My mom was hesitant to let me walk by myself once I fell below around 12 years old and especially once I entered Building 3, but she still let me. Considering all the eyes peeping out of their windows as I walked by, especially by the playground, I suspected that she had recruited at least half the neighborhood to keep an eye on me as well. No one said or did anything to sacrifice my independence, but I just couldn’t get that prickling sensation of being watched from off the back of my neck. Coming back to my house though, I had to pause and rub my eyes as the house came into view. It was still a two-story and nicely surrounded by a few blooming flowers and trees as it had been. My mom’s car was even parked in the driveway still and an Easter flag still hung from the flagpole near the garage. No, the difference was that in the driveway, parked like it had been whenever she came over for Sunday dinner, was Molly’s car. It seemed a little muddier, almost like she had been adventuring more with it lately, but even as my eyes readjusted, it was still there. Like a ghost from my past coming back to haunt me, I approached the car and the house with more apprehension than I cared to admit. Getting to the front porch, I could see both Molly and my mom immediately stop talking once they noticed me. “Oh sweetie! Look who it is!” Almost imperceptible, but she gave a quick glare toward my ex-girlfriend. “It’s Molly…” She had never been a fan of Molly exactly; happy for me but not thrilled with whom I had brought home for dinner. After dumping me, despite being logical from her standpoint, I could tell that my mom’s opinion of her had not improved. “Molly…” I felt so small compared to her now. Even despite everything going on in my life and her promise to be there for me, I hadn’t texted her in over two months and hadn’t seen her face-to-face in at least three. Now, everything felt different. From her shocked expression, I could tell she felt the same. “Pete…” Her eyes scanned me up and down. I could only imagine what she was thinking right now, seeing her ex as a pint-sized version of himself. “How are you?” It was a pure and simple question, but seeing my mom eyeing us both, I wasn’t sure if I should give the truth or just a version of it. Considering that Molly probably needed to talk to me about something in the first place, I knew what needed to happen. “Fine, fine, but… do you want to talk? More privately?” Molly almost actually seemed like she was going to say no to me, but I wondered if she could feel my mom’s flaring breath on her side as her gaze continued to bore into her from the side. Regardless, she nodded her head. “I think that would be nice.” I wanted to ask her for a ride, but at my reduced height, I was now at a level that was borderline hazardous to sit in the front seat anymore. Looking over at her sports car, if I were to sit in the front seat, my safety might have even been more compromised. Knowing my mother, I knew it just wasn’t an option. “Uh, how about the park?” I asked quickly to my ex while simultaneously casting a rapid glance over to my mom. I didn’t want to make it obvious, but I didn’t want to assume that it would be purely okay either. With a frayed relationship between the two and my mom’s protective instinct starting to flare up more than ever, I just didn’t want to risk anything these days. “Yeah, Pete,” Molly said calmly, stepping of the front porch. “That sounds lovely.” She was as beautiful as ever, but now I had to crane my head up more than I would care to look at her in the eye anymore. Everyone told me to hate her for what she did, but seeing our difference even now when I hadn’t bounced all the way… I couldn’t exactly blame her still. After a quick reminder to be back home before sunset, Molly and I took off. It was a bit strange at first, but soon, we got back into a rhythm and caught each other up on our lives. “Wow,” she exclaimed after a little bit, seemingly in shock, “I can’t believe Butch would do something like that to one of your friends.” “Yeah…” Molly wasn’t exactly my favorite person, but I also felt like she was going to be a good sounding board at this point. She wasn’t too involved in my life anymore and she always was a good listener, so I ended up telling her more about my life than even my parents knew about. “I’m trying to figure out a way I can stop him, but it’s tough.” “Hmmm…” Molly pondered the situation for a second before finding a nice bench to sit down on. It gave a nice view of the sloping hills and the downtown area in the distance and just happened to be the place of our first kiss. “That’s tricky but maybe think of the bundle of sticks. One is weak, but a bundle is strong. Seems like he isn’t liked very well, so maybe use that?” “Sounds intriguing…” I then sat down as well and stared at the ground underneath my feet, both now dangling off the bench ever so slightly. “It’s good to see you Molly, but… I gotta ask… why are you here?” Molly nodded, probably knowing this question was coming. “To be honest, Pete, I wasn’t sure if I should, but I guess I’m still listed as your emergency contact or whatnot with the clinic… and that’s attached to Linfield. So, when you got demoted to Building 3, I got a message.” It made sense, but there was one tiny hole. “That was two months ago though… why now?” Molly stared out at the horizon, the sun still blazing overhead. “Well, after we… I broke up with you, I buried myself in work. I’ve barely been back here since I last saw you. Paris, Tokyo, LA… even a stint in Berlin at one point. My editor just can’t get enough of my photos, but I got back and… well, I guess I thought I should check up on you.” Part of me wanted to be truly glad for Molly. She was living her life to the fullest and advancing in all the ways she ever told me about in her wildest dreams. In a very real sense, she was living a fantasy of hers and only seemed to be shooting herself into the echelons of photography with the magazine now. I was proud of her, and maybe I was grasping at straws, but I felt that I had supported her, so in a way, her success was mine as well. But I knew that was just to keep myself happy with what she had done. I knew Molly pretty well, and while she was many things, concerned for someone else when it couldn’t directly benefit her wasn’t exactly her strong point. She had a few flaws like everyone else, but that was one of the biggest. I think it’s what my mom saw in her and what I almost always pushed past whenever I defended her to someone else. So, with her presence now, I felt she was either turning over a new leaf… or she wanted something. “I see…” Molly then turned her head back toward me as I weighed my options. I could just let everything go, but maybe it was Butch, Ian, or that I was just at my wits end or felt all alone lately, but I didn’t want to beat around the bush anymore. “But why are you really here?” Molly seemed shocked at first and was about to speak, but I held up my diminished hand to stop her. “And please, if you ever cared about me… no lies.” Molly sat in a stunned stupor for about a minute, and wanting the truth, I didn’t mind waiting. I didn’t like how long it was taking to answer such a simple question, and I doubly didn’t appreciate the fact that she didn’t outright deny that she was here for another reason. I felt a hot rage begin to build inside of me. Molly then sighed. “I…” Her head then dropped, almost like she was ashamed of something. “Pete… it’s April now. The anniversary and all… well, my editor wants to do a piece on ARV. He just happens to know that I used to date you and… well, he pushed me to take some photos, but he then saw the old write-ups I did back in college. Now, he’s asking me to ask you to do an interview for the magazine.” She then went on to defend herself, but at that point, I was already tuning her out a little bit. I had once genuinely loved Molly. Maybe it wasn’t the marrying someone for 50 years type of love, but it was there. Her breaking up with me damaged that, but I think since then, I still held some modicum of love for her. I could justify her actions up and down, but now… now was a different matter and my rage bubbling inside was growing. “So… you just wanted to come back here to interview the freak, huh?” My words were harsh, but my patience with my ex was running low now. If her real reason was a genuine check-up to see if I was okay, then I wouldn’t have cared about anything else. I might have even offered her an interview or at least a few quotes from a current ARV victim, but all that was over. She had come here for one purpose. Maybe two, but with the way she had handled things and had then essentially lied to me before, I wasn’t caring about any of the other factors in this. “What?” Molly asked in surprise. “I… never, Pete! You gotta believe me! I… I still care about you. I would have checked sooner, but…” “But your career got in the way,” I finished for her. “Yes, I’ve heard it before, and like all those other times as well, this one is no different. Your top priority is your career. Not feelings, not even wealth. Just the next story and best photo for your precious magazine!” I realized I was losing it, and seeing a few passerby’s shift their attention in our direction, I didn’t want to make a scene out here. The police were often called in on disruptive or emotional ARs and those situations never ended well, so taking a deep breath, I pushed on… just with less yelling. “You know, Molly… I’ve known a lot of victims since I got this stupid virus. Fat, skinny… short and tall. All genders, races, skin types, creeds, religions… you name it. We’re all people… not little rats for your maze and to be poked endlessly by your questions. It hurts, Molly. It hurts to think that you were just coming out here for a story from your ex-boyfriend. It feels exploitive and just a nasty thing to do to someone you once said, ‘I love you’ to. It doesn’t erase all that, but it’s certainly a crummy feeling. That’s for sure.” I then took a deep breath. “And…” I paused, almost contemplating not saying it, but I then realized that I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. “Yeah… and not for nothing, but a lot of other girlfriends stuck with their boyfriends. Different relationships, but the love was there. I thought it was there in ours, but… I guess not.” “I…” Molly then turned away, clearly rejected and regretful now. I had cut her deep and I should have felt guilt, but sadly, I only felt less burdened. Finally, she spoke back up. “I guess it was a bad idea to come here. I… I should just go.” “Yeah… probably for the best…” My temper had simmered, but my anger towards her and her true purpose today still raged within me. I knew I had to let it go, but for this moment, I felt I could still hold onto it. The only problem with ending things like this though was that we were still a good distance away from our destinations… my house and her car. So, the walk back was probably one of the most awkward I had ever faced. The one good thing though, and I think I will be forgiven for thinking so, but I could see the guilt begin to grow on Molly’s face. At first it seemed just a simmer and almost like an uncomfortable feeling in her gut, but it didn’t take long for her face to grow long and even ashamed of what she had set out to do. So, when we turned the corner and started walking up the final street, I wasn’t surprised when she stopped. Curious, I stopped as well. “Pete… I’m… I’m so sorry for trying to exploit you like that today. I should have known better…” She trailed off for a second and then looked at me directly. “I also need to apologize for how I handled everything at the end there. I needed more in my life… wanted to do more in my life, and there you were… regressing every day… losing more and more of yourself. I… I should have been there.” I wanted to yell and scream at her that she should have, but all that just didn’t seem to matter anymore. Through all this, I had seen ARV tear through people and make them afraid, manic, sad, or even bitter or vindictive. I was determined to not let those traits define me though, so instead of shouting back at her in triumph, I knew I had to give her the comfort she had never given me. “I forgive you, Molly.” I truly did. It hurt to say, but I couldn’t be mad at her forever. She was practical, and while that practicality was as comforting as a giant boulder to your cheek in the morning, it meant that she often wasn’t wrong either. I wasn’t even done bouncing, so while she could be called selfish, I couldn’t call her completely self-serving or cruel without purpose. She could only smile and nod and mumble out a small thanks in return… at least until we got back to her car. “I really am… sorry, Pete. I just…” She then shook her head. “I want to wish you the best of luck. I really did love you as well and I wish that things would have been different…” I could tell she wanted to say more, after a well-place ‘but,’ but I was glad that she stopped there. It was awkward, like the hug she gave me afterwards before getting into her car, but it was the truth. Saying anymore and I couldn’t help but feel that whatever she said afterward would only have been a lie. “I wish a lot of things were different as well,” I conceded, “but there’s nothing either of us can do about it now, is there?” Molly regretfully nodded her head and started her car. “Goodbye, Pete, and… good luck.” As she pulled out, I gave her a wave. “Good luck with your career, and… goodbye.” And with that, she pulled out of the driveway and seemingly out of my life forever. Unless she changed or the winds of fate brought us together once more, I doubted she would need for something ever again. Stepping back inside, my mom was waiting there with a hug and nice glass of apple juice. It wasn’t much, but the tiny things she offered were more valuable to me right then than a hundred apologies from Molly. I might have preferred a beer instead, but the juice was sweet, and the hug was comforting. Still, I decided to retreat to my room. It was nice and quiet, but I also began to hear little noises coming from my sister’s room as well. Curiously, I peeked my head in to see what was going on and found her sitting on her bed with a book on her lap. It was a simple book, but I recognized it from my own childhood as one that helped kids learn how to read. Studying the pages, I could see she was struggling a little. “Amanda?” I stepped into the room after knocking on her door lightly. Not being yelled at immediately, I knew that it was my cue that she didn’t want to be left alone. “Pete?” She placed the book down and even tried to hide it under the covers. “Where’s Molly? She go?” I sighed and walked over before sitting on the edge of her bed. “Yeah… she’s gone, and probably not coming back. She’s…” I then shook my head and covertly slipped my fingers under her covers and then presented the book to her. “Never mind that… what’s this?” “It’s… it’s…” She then dropped her head down like she was quickly ashamed of something. Coming from a now five-year-old who still paraded downstairs in a tiara, tutu, and purple feather boa while dictating to the family about teatime on occasion, I knew something was up. “Hey, Amanda… it’s me,” I said, rubbing her shoulder a little for some small comfort. “What’s going on? I might look different, but I’m still me. I can still help if you’ll let me.” Molly then looked up at me with sad eyes and opened the book to a particular page. I could see several thumbprints over the shiny and plasticky pages from repeated use. “Iss hard, Petey! I jus’… I can’t!” “Nonsense! I quickly shot back. “I know you and you are one smart cookie. Maybe you just need a little more practice. So, how about this…? You let me help you whenever you want. No judgement… just a little help from your big bro, huh?” Amanda didn’t need to be asked twice and quickly nodded her head in agreement. To my surprise though, she then pulled the book away from hands. It was small and she could have said please, but that wasn’t the shocking part. For me, I had always held her books for her… especially during our nightly reading times. I knew it could have been just because this was studying and during the day, but another part of me saw my sister slowly maturing in life as was intended. During the reading help, I saw the wonderous and enchanted smile from Amanda. I didn’t want to be the AR who had to learn to read all over again, but reading was such a simple task. Even for the struggling Amanda, she still took joy in the process and just in life in general. Looking at my own life, I realized I needed more of that. Maybe it was Butch, Ian, and his gang. Maybe it was my dwindling height and ever younger reflection in the mirror I saw staring back at me each morning. Maybe it was just that my clothes now always seemed too baggy or childish or just out of style. I wasn’t sure, but I knew one thing… I needed more fun in my life. Harriet had many great qualities, and she had found a way to make each of them work for her before Orange Day and ARV. Her career as a political operative was fueled by her doggedness, rigidity, strength, and refusal to give in. With ARV though, all that had backfired on her completely and now she was still in Building 4. So, seeking to avoid that fate altogether, once Amanda wanted to play with her dolls a little later, I rushed downstairs and immediately first checked with my mom and then called Phil up to see if I could still come over. Needless, to say, he was thrilled. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to have a good time, but I needed a release valve of some kind on my life or risk blowing. That might not have been so bad if it was directed at Butch, Ian, or the gang, but otherwise, it could spell disaster for me both now and in the future. It wasn’t a risk I was willing to play around with. If I was screwed with ARV already, I made a solemn vow to have as much fun as I could on the way down. Even with everything else going on, I knew that life might never be this or mature again. Enjoying it, even for a little bit, felt completely worth it to me, and today, that started by accepting the invite over to a playdate with Phil and the rest of our friends.

Hey everyone! Oof! I really tried to get this chapter up last night, but I just couldn’t do it in time or feel safe enough presenting this chapter to you all with editing it on so little sleep. My trip over the weekend was phenomenal, not counting the problem of getting home on Monday, but for the future, I think I’m going to avoid a 6 AM flight on Saturday. I passed out way too many times yesterday, but still, no regrets. Just as a reminder, a new poll is up for you all to let me know which story you all would like to read next. Story options and the link can be found back in the beginning of chapter 2. As I mentioned before though, if you feel more comfortable leaving a comment here or as a private message to me, I will count these as well. Additionally, like before, this poll will be shut down right before I post my final chapter on here. Further announcements will be made regarding this when the time gets closer. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 11: You’re a Baseball Now Utterly spent, and being directed by Dr. Smothers and Principal Warton, my mom had come and collected me from Linfield that day. After arriving home, she fixed me some lunch as I had yet to eat, and I retreated to my room. It still maintained its furniture and decorations from when I first moved in, but as many had seen before and I now know as well, a demotion into the next category could mean a host of changes elsewhere as well… including my room and closet. Still, my clothing was already baggy and getting uncomfortable, so I knew it had to change first and foremost regardless of anything else. I then spent the next few hours locked in my room. My mom had the decency to give me space and it was one of the few items she had read about that I had appreciated. Given the scale of the gas attack, it wasn’t long before self-help books were released for all ages involved. My parents had deduced that getting a book for each family member would be useful, but truthfully, I think only mom and dad really read theirs. Mine was all about acceptance of the various stages and just explained each step in horrific detail. It was simply too painful or too obvious to read it fully. Lucas had read through his copy and had later promised to treat me with as much respect as possible as the physically older brother and that was the end of that. Conversely, Amanda, for her part, tried to understand what was going on, but given her younger age, it was hard to know if I would end up physically older or younger than her, so her book was more of a kid’s book in generality for living with someone who had AR. Worryingly, while we were checking out of the bookstore that Saturday, I saw her eyeing the one labeled ‘Being An Older Sister Now.’ Still, refocusing on just trying to relax, I played around online for a while and soon heard the front door shut, announcing the entrance of my dad. Some giggles following, I knew that Amanda had greeted him almost as soon as he walked in. Soon after, I was called downstairs. “Pete! Dinner!” I rushed down the stairs and was confronted by my mom, dad, Amanda, and surprisingly, Lucas. “Hey… guys. What’s up?” “Well,” my mom started, “Miss Linton called us today and told us about you going to Building 3, and well… uh…” “She seemed concerned about you, Pete,” my dad said, stepping in. “Right,” my mom continued, seemingly shaking off whatever pause she had before. “So, we just wanted to give you some support these days. I know these steps must be hard for you. I remember the first time you went through all this, and you just didn’t want to let go of my hand. So many good memories and I think…” “Alright. Come on! Give him a break you all.” Lucas stepped forward and faced the other members of our family once he got over to my side at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s still Pete. Just… maybe a little armpit-sized now,” he joked. “No, no. You’re right,” my dad conceded. My mom, for her part, only nodded. Moving on still, my dad redirected his attention to me. “Was today hard for you? I know it would be for me.” “Yeah… I mean it su…” I remembered Amanda was in the room as well between my mom and dad, “It’s not fun, but I don’t have a choice in all this, right?” They all nodded, and not wanting any sympathy coddling vote, I turned back to my brother. “I also appreciate the vote of support Lucas, but I just need to power through all this… on my own. As soon as it’s finished, the sooner I can start off with something normal with a little independence, okay? Can you do that for me in this one way at least?” “We’ll take your lead, Pete,” my dad said quickly after likely seeing the stunned expression on my brother’s face. He was all nodding and accepting my words, but I could see that Lucas wasn’t prepared to be rebuffed by me over something so simple. He just didn’t get it. His offer of defense for me was small, but at this point, I was going to take every opportunity I could to be independent still. “And that sounds like a good plan for today.” Her voice was jubilant and accepting like my brother’s nod had been as well, but her wording conveyed yet another tiny reminder of how fragile my independence was. ‘For today…’ Two simple words the whole family had heard as well, but I knew my mom. Sentimental and caring, but also practical. The truth was that despite my independence, getting place in Building 3 today was a flag of warning to me that, yes, I was still regressing. Doctors had estimated my age as under six but had yet to come up with anything more definitive than that so far to my knowledge. Not fooling myself either, I knew that dropping under six would need a lot more help if I wanted it or not, and mom was certainly keeping that in mind. “Food?” Amanda asked, once again seeming oblivious to the underlying context of the conversation going on around her. I hated to admit it to myself, but sometimes, I wondered if I got that young… would I be the same? Still, I knew I had to push onwards today and not think about those matters right now. At this point, my stomach was the priority. “Food,” I confirmed. Digging in, we all were laughing and giggling over the little anecdotes from our lives since the last family mean. It was nice and free time for my mind, but staring over at Amanda briefly, I didn’t know if she truly understood what was happening to me, but I was just glad she still recognized me as her older brother. It was a tiny comfort on an otherwise stressful day. * * * Now at another family dinner, I realized that it had been a few days since I had seen Lucas last with his hectic schedule back at college. Since then, to my chagrin, I was now actually perched firmly below his armpit level. Lucas had meant it as a joke that other day, but regrettably, it was very much a reality to me. With his busy schedule though, we adjusted and tonight another family dinner was not being held on a Sunday. Still, dinner resumed its normality, despite my difficulty with my new height in comparison to the table and the seat. Amanda was in a booster seat now, but I could only shudder at the thought of being in her position in what could only be days. I knew the virus would taper off, but with time the way it was, regression to her level wouldn’t take long. One perk of regressing in this house was the lack of commitment to cleaning up after myself anymore. Previously, I would usually be assigned to dishes, but now, I was just contented to sit on the couch and keep Amanda occupied. Her diminutive form curled into me, and I wondered how much longer this would last. “You’re diff’rent,” a small voice echoed from below me. “Different? What do you mean, Mandy?” She wasn’t the biggest fan of the nickname from others but always seemed to like it when I called her that lately. “Smalluh…” she said plainly, not missing a beat. ‘Damn.’ I knew it was only a matter of time before she caught on fully, and I knew it was only going to get worse from here. Of course she had been told about what was happening to me, but there was a big difference between hearing about something versus seeing it with your own eyes. “Yeah…,” I conceded. “But do you remember the book that mommy got you a few days ago?” “Yes?” I knew I was going to have to reintroduce her to that thing sooner rather than later. “Well, that book was all about what’s happening to me,” I explained. “I’m regress… getting younger.” “That book was about a baby though…” she noted to my chagrin. Again, being a general book, it touched on the main features of ARV. One of those, unfortunately, was about babies, making up a large chunk of those regressed and also requiring the most care and adjustment to their new lives as compared to the other age ranges it listed. Still, I groaned inwardly. I had read others before, and I knew full-well that the most extreme examples were always more prevalent in the guidebooks, so the generalized version was of course about the lower ends of the regression spectrum. “That’s true, but that’s not me.” It was half a truth mixed with some hope. Remembering back to Building 4 and being clocked as bouncing under six, my final fate was far from certain. “’Kay…” She then looked off into the distance for a second and then back up at me. “I’m still your sis’, righ’?” “Of course. And I’ll be your brother. Always.” I gave her a little squeeze to reassure her, but it was also to reassure myself of her still considering me her older brother after all of this. “’Kay.” The family gathered around and watched an animated movie for Amanda’s enjoyment. Halfway through though, I could feel her nod off. Despite my hand being slightly uncomfortable with the way she was laying on me, I was still glad she felt at ease with me. Strangely enough though, I could feel myself slowly slip away and let sleep take me… Peace… Calm… Sweet dreams… A massive click then shattered it all, followed closely by a flash that seemed brighter than the sun behind my eyelids. I was almost certain that if they hadn’t been closed, I would have been at least half blinded right then. Since they were closed though, my eyes fluttered open to inspect what had just happened. I thought that maybe there was an explosion on TV or a burst lightbulb or generator outside. Heck, I even pondered if a bomb had been dropped from the ’87 group or that lightning had just struck right outside the window. As my eyes adjusted to the room once more though, I saw it was none of those. There… in the middle of the room, was my mom… holding a camera. “Mom?” I asked, still not fully awake and more than a little confused. “Wha… what are you doing?” “Oops. You caught me red-handed. The movie just ended, and I just couldn’t help myself of you four.” Looking over, I saw that Lucas, Amanda, and our dad had all fallen asleep on the couch together and were now nestled in each other’s support. I groaned but let it go. In my old life as a self-appointed night owl, I would have normally protested going to bed earlier, but as time was progressing, I noticed a disturbing need to desire more sleep. I wanted to fight it, but it seemed that my body once again had other plans for me. I mean, sure, at first, I had the energy I remembered having as a teen, but it was seemingly only occurring in the mornings and the middle of the day. Middle of the afternoon and at night, however, I could feel all that energy absolutely drain away into nothingness. Waking up as well and seeing the situation, he woke Lucas up. Saying our goodbyes to Lucas, he then picked up Amanda and brought her upstairs. Groggy still, I soon followed and after my small night routine, I almost instantly passed out in my bed, not even realizing that it was still before 11 at night. I might have been worried about what that could mean on other fronts, but right then, I just wanted sleep. I awoke and felt different in my bed. It was the same as I had fallen asleep in, but I had changed more than usual. My pajamas had been in a baggy state for at least two days, my mom being too busy to take me to replace them, but I just happened to notice it more this morning. I was half asleep still, but there was no mistaking the extra fabric that now covered my hand from the excess found in my pajama’s sleeves. “Rise and shine!” my mom exclaimed, entering my room without asking first before I could ponder my on-going shrinkage any further. I groaned and slightly turned over in my bed. Spotting me with one raised eyebrow, she patted my covers. “Come on, honey. Don’t want to be late for Linfield, do you?” I only groaned, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Alright then… do I need to… yank those covers off your bed?” “Fine, mom! I’m up! I’m up!” I said, swinging my body haphazardly out of bed now. It was annoying, having happened before, she shuffled it off and casually walked out of the room without a second thought. The sudden inclusion of an invasion of privacy in my daily routine was not a good sign of what was to come with this new position I found myself in. ‘What would she be like in one month? What about two? Or even three or four?’ Shuddering, I put those terrible thoughts out of my mind and went on with my day, slightly appreciating that she had laid out the clothes on my bed that I had chosen last night as a time cutting measure. It, along with her making my breakfast and ensuring I had money for the school lunches, meant I had an extra five to ten minutes in the shower in the mornings… so I took her help there at least without question. After a quick shower and getting dressed in a pair of clothes I hadn’t recognized before, I jogged downstairs. Amanda was already up, dad was getting ready to go with her and then drop her off, and Lucas had left after I had passed out last night. “Morning, bud. Sleep well?” “Sure, Dad.” I yawned and sat down in my chair. Feeling my lack of height a little more, it was an annoying loss, but I still managed to perch myself to get closer to the table. If anyone noticed, they made no comment about it, but I wasn’t sure if that was simply because they didn’t see it, were too busy with their own morning routines, and awa it but were kind enough to not point it out. Regardless, after finishing up, Amanda soon left with our dad for daycare. Downing my scrambled eggs and toast that my mom had kindly prepared, we both then hopped into her car and drove off to Linfield once more. My mom hadn’t been anticipating coming back to Linfield for another orientation, but we were both understanding the reality of this situation more. Being one of the more advanced AR victims, instead of just a few years shaved off, spontaneity and new challenges were around every corner. For my mom, she was likely going to have to deal with, at least in some way, two young children in her house again. For me… well, I hardly needed to remind myself of all the new annoyances being added or pleasures taken away in my life. My mom pulled into the institute, and I was reminded back a few weeks when I came back here after being demoted down to Building 3. * * * Pulling up to Linfield once more, like we had done the first day, my mom parked in the parking lot. Looking out the window in dread, I think my mom could sense my hesitation. “Come on, honey. I know this isn’t what you want, but we don’t want to keep the others waiting, right?” “I wouldn’t mind never going in at all…” “Now you know that can’t happen, so come on. Or do you need me to hold your hand?” My mom meant it in a kind gesture, no doubt, but to me, holding her hand seemed like a veiled threat of what was to come. It was going to be her way only. No door number 2, highway, or option B; just her will imposed over me. We entered Principal Warton’s office again and waited for only a minute before she stepped out, her look only a fraction softer than what it had been when I first came here. “Welcome back, Pete, Mrs. Crichton.” “Please. I think we’re beyond that now,” my mom said. “As I’ve said before… Karen.” “I’m glad to hear that you feel that way, Karen. It’s always nice when I can get to know the parents of my charges more. I know these circumstances are beyond difficult, but I like to think of us all as being friends.” She then turned to me and checked her watch. “Now, Pete. Mrs. Middleton should be here any…” The door opened and a tall blonde woman nearly floated in behind it. “Sorry, Valerie. Had a paint incident already today.” Valerie… Principal Warton smiled knowingly. “That’s okay, Claire. I figure something like that might have happened. In fact, I was just starting.” She then gestured to both my mom and me in front of her. “This is Pete and his mom, Karen.” “Pleasure to meet you both,” Mrs. Middleton said while coming up with a welcoming smile before shaking both of our hands. The next few minutes were spent on pleasantries and little introductions, but soon, Mrs. Middleton spoke up again. “I’m sorry to interrupt this wonderful little chat this morning, but I need to be heading back. No telling what could happen with being gone so long now. Miguel is probably swimming with the usual morning problems over there by now. We don’t want another science experiment incident, right? I mean… we just got the stains out of the ceiling last week.” “Oh, no… definitely not,” Principal Warton said with a suddenly serious face. She then gestured at the door. “You go Claire and take Pete with you as well.” She then turned back to my mom. “And I’ll take Karen here. And Claire?” My new homeroom teacher turned away from me for a second, her hand still offered to take, and back to Warton. “You know the drill…” Mrs. Middleton nodded, and seeing I was taking her hand, seemed to dust it off like it was nothing, her smile putting me at enough ease. “Come on, Pete. Lots to do.” She gestured and I followed her out into the building lobby before she halted and turned back to face me. “Now that we’re out of earshot, I’m going to give you a quick tour like Miss Linton did with you the first day. Ours won’t be as extensive, but it will be just as important… if not more so. Like Miss Linton was your home room teacher, I’ll do the same in Building 3. Same basics of the job and both buildings share a lot of the same rules, okay? Make sense so far?” “I guess?” I felt like she was holding something back from me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “But I mean… is there anything else I really need to see? Beside Building 4, Miss Linton was pretty thorough.” Mrs. Middleton smiled and at first, simply guided me out of the back door and into the central courtyard between the buildings. “It may not be as extensive, but it’s just as important. With time, even if you don’t understand today, I think you will.” I didn’t like the untold implications there… “For now, though…” she continued with a big smile as we passed a few of the garden beds, their wintery flowers soon to give way to the more beautiful Spring varieties they showed in their brochures… like the ones Dr. Faulkner handed me right before I came here. “I think it would help for me to lay down some of the ground rules. Might make a few things make more sense. You okay with that?” Wanting to know more, I just nodded. “Good.” We then walked a little further passing by the centralized fountain, the water turned off most days due to the still Winter weather, and into the dreaded Building 3. I didn’t know much, but I knew that classes were more spaced out, so coming in late, we arrived just at the start of one of the class changes. “Now, first thing. Look around and you’ll see that because of the large varieties in ages, we have two sections in our building and about two to three groups within each. The first section, yours actually, is designed for those still transitioning. You all haven’t bounced yet, so we’re mainly there to help you with whatever level you’re at. We can talk about what that means in just a second…” Mrs. Middleton gestured me to a nearby bench by the vending machines. I sat on a similar one with Miss Linton my first week here, and I was fine. Today, my shorter frame wasn’t entirely noticeable from afar, but it made for a slightly different experience sitting on it with my feet now only just touching the ground if I was seated all the way back, rather than being able to flex more with my previous height and still maintain contact with the ground. “So, the second section is for those who bounced already.” She quickly nodded over to the more well-dressed group of people to our far right. Yes, they were all cherub-faced and looked like they had just escaped Kindergarten together, but their clothing, mannerisms… and even topics of amusement and conversation all screamed that they had at least been in the mid-20s, if not older. “The group acts a bit closer to Building 2 with their daily lives here. Focuses more on training to get them to the next level or into their next steps… whatever they may be.” “Which are what exactly?” Nobody had really mentioned the specifics of what would happen after this stage yet. It was starting to feel like the carrot no one would ever get. “Well…” Mrs. Middleton shifted a bit uncomfortably on the spot before looking back to me, “you don’t need to worry about that just yet. Since you asked though, the goal would be to evaluate where you are and then either send you back to Building 2 or out to the real world if you pass. If you fail the evaluations or we see a glaring problem that needs to be addressed, then we’ll send you to a private or tailored educator once you’re stabilized to fill in the gaps or we would send you back to a period of generalized education. It varies from person to person.” “Wait… I might have to repeat a grade?” I felt nauseous all of a sudden. ‘Damn it. Not good. Not good at all…’ I didn’t like school the first time that much. A second time would feel like a punishment… prison even. Mrs. Middleton seemed saddened by the notion but moved on with a reassuring smile. “As I said, we don’t need to worry about that just yet for you, but it’s possible, yes.” She let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “So, within each section we have little groups. Usually not more than ten to twelve, but the ages can vary more widely than we would like sometimes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wristband of sorts. “Pete, you’re a baseball now.” She laid the green wristband on my wrist, adorned with small baseballs, and adjusted it closed, forming a firm, but not constricting, fit. “Perfect. Now, secondly,” Mrs. Middleton’s face quickly becoming serious, “don’t take this off when you’re here. Some wear them at home, and it’s adjustable, but this needs to be on you at all times when you’re on school grounds here.” I looked at the strange new green accessory on my wrist with a fair amount of skepticism. “So… what does it do?” I couldn’t help but feel somewhere deep down in my little paranoid mind that somehow this was a tracker and a mark of my new dwindled status. “It’s a tracker.” My heart sank, hoping secretly to be wrong about its purpose almost more than anything else right then… except maybe the sudden reveal of a cure for ARV. “It allows us to make sure you all stay within the boundary of this property,” she explained. “It might seem a bit invasive, but you all have the bravery of adults, but the physicality of someone much younger. It can lead to… well, negative circumstances.” Her demeanor then switched to concern, probably noticing my shocked expression over the band. “Don’t worry, darling. We won’t let anything happen to you. It’s just covering the possibilities.” I nodded, pushing past the ‘darling’ comment, and just stared at the device now attached to my wrist. It was comfortable enough but with everything going on in the world and a desire to still be independent, I was not a fan of being tracked. Unphased, Mrs. Middleton got up and waved toward herself. “Now, follow me, and I’ll show you around.” We then ventured beyond just the lobby of Building 3. It felt like a sign of doom and submission to this place seeing everything inside so personally now, but I was also slightly distracted by Mrs. Middleton’s arm. Normally, I might not have noticed it, but I was hyperaware of many things lately and I couldn’t help but notice it dragged behind her. I might have thought it was a deformity of some kind, but in this building and remembering back to earlier when she offered it to me before I rejected it, it felt far more like an open-ended gesture if I wanted to hold her hand. I shuddered at the mere possibility. Finding out way, we only stopped near the bathrooms… moving past a nice theater, library, and all manner of other delights. “So, these are the bathrooms, as you can probably guess from the signage next to the door. Now, continuing from earlier, the third thing to know here is that you may have your adult mind, but certain physical problems might start to appear with your transition. It’s nothing to be ashamed about, but those changes can present a few issues. I’ll show you some things, but most of them you can get used to or learn from others as you go along. This,” she gestured to the door, “is an important location to know about. There are five per floor. I suggest you memorize the location of them all.” Seemingly determined for this to stick in my head, she took a second to ensure I didn’t have any questions so far and then continued. “As you change, this room may become a bit more challenging. From your file, you seem to be on a faster track than a lot of our other students, and unfortunately, we’ve found you all tend to have a few more problems in this department.” “Problems?” I did not like where this was going and I was trying to keep my mind from going down all the dark possibilities of what she was implying, but it was very difficult. “Yes,” she confirmed without hesitation. “You see, when a toddler is growing, once they know the feeling of needing to go and associate it with the right processes, they can quickly deduce the feeling and act accordingly. Once they get over the first step, it’s just a matter of coordination and timing. When ARs change, however, they have the same feelings, but their physicality is different.” “Different?” I looked down at my body temporarily and I wasn’t sure what she meant. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was at least 11, maybe 12 years old… and nothing looked ‘different.’ “That’s right,” she confirmed again. “ARs will at least still get the sensation of needing to go in most cases, but the difference comes in the fact that most ARs will get the sensation of needing to go but then put it off until a larger need arises because they got used to doing that in their adult bodies. For example, if you’re in a business meeting or in a test, to not disrupt the activity, adults will put off going to the bathroom for a little bit.” I nodded, recalling several meetings that were about to end where I held the need to pee until after, so I didn’t miss an important discussion point or announcement. “Well, most adults have the physicality needed to hold it, so they can do it without much effort usually. When ARs change, though, the ability to hold it will decrease purely as a matter of size difference if nothing else. For those who regress faster, the feeling of urgency may not match the speed of the physical changes to their bladders. Often, we’ve found these cases for ARs can lead to… problems.” “Oh.” I knew where she was headed with this now and I internally cursed my luck once again with the prognosis I had been saddled with. I was likely regressing under six, so, remembering back to Amanda from only a few years ago, knowing where the bathrooms were might very well become my biggest concern during the day… or risk unmentionable consequences otherwise. “Now, don’t think on this too much today,” Mrs. Middleton said, clearly seeing my pained reaction to what she was implying was likely to be in my future. “Your file doesn’t indicate any problems when you were about… what? 11? 12? 13 at best? So, at least for now, no need to worry. I just wanted you to know what was ahead in your transition to this building. Looking even further… as a warning, transferring to Building 4 can be a bit bumpy… due to one factor.” She didn’t say it, but I felt a pit forming in my stomach. I didn’t want to ask her, but I knew my head was going to burn itself out if I didn’t know. “Meaning?” “Meaning, and sorry to be blunt, but if you have an accident, it’s an automatic ticket to building 4.” Like her face right then, her words were straightforward and didn’t leave any room for interpretation. Of course, I had heard it before, but now being in the building where a policy like that was now a very real possibility for my future and that I was now staring at the door that could be the difference in my success or failure here… it made it all feel that much more real now. Again, all I could muster was a simple, “Oh…” “Yeah… but the good news is that if you are above the age of four with some minor caveats though,” she continued with a now more upbeat and hopeful attitude, “the accident is only marked down and not an immediate transfer.” I stared at her blankly. Her revelation was of little consolation to me knowing the full weight of the consequences she was talking about. Here, unless you had just bounced around those younger ages, one accident was rarely just one. “I know it’s not much,” she then said with a sigh, “but it’s not the end of the world if you have an accident before then. So, for now, try to have a little faith here and in yourself, okay?” “Sure…” I wasn’t sure if she was trying to ease me into all this or if she was more straight-up lying to me to get me to not freak out on my first day here. Thinking of the others that had transferred here and had thrown a fit or tried something more extreme, I always thought it was silly to resist this building. Now, I realized they were likely more panicking over the slippery slope of being in this place… and being so perilously close to a transfer to Building 4. “I know this is hard for you all, but the teachers are here to help,” she then tried to console, “which is actually the fourth important thing here. The teachers in Building 2 are there to get you out the door and back into society one day. We do the same, but more importantly, we are here to help ease you into some of the challenges you may face on this new path you are all taking in life now. So, in order for us to be able to do that and help you when you need it, I ask that you set your ego aside for a second and just ask for help if you need it. I didn’t know you before all of this, but trust me, asking for help is much less humiliating than…” “…than climbing on a rickety stool and then falling off to only have a major meltdown in front of everyone?” I asked, assuming she likely knew one of the main reasons that I had been transferred here before. Mrs. Middleton looked at me grimly. “I wasn’t going to bring that up, but yes. We just want to help you, Pete.” Maybe it was my frayed nerves from all the changes in my life or something in my body chemistry, but to put it bluntly… I was getting tired of this conversation. Seeing it all laid out before me and not learning much on this tour, I felt that it really wasn’t helping my situation at all today. “So, is there anything else I need to know today?” Mrs. Middleton looked at me with an odd look and it looked like she wanted to scold me even, but she just shook her head. “Not officially, no. There’s more of the tour left if you want, but I’m sure you can learn that on your own if you really want and keep in mind our policy of just asking for help when you need it.” She then sighed and I could tell she was scrutinizing over me and my abrupt end to her tour, but she then just put on a smile… almost like someone would a piece of clothing. It was there, but more of an accessory than her true feelings. “I guess I can just leave you with this… just try to have some fun. It’s the biggest unwritten rule here, but maybe the most important. Your situation is already difficult, so for your own sake, if no one else’s, try to find some joy in what’s happening here, okay?” “Yeah… will do.” Admittedly, I might have been a little brisk with her at that point, especially when I knew she was just trying to help me, but it was just so hard to take her advice seriously in this context. I mean, I had just been warned about potential bathroom issues and that it was the one criterion for entering into the dreaded Building 4… and all that wasn’t even including the fact that I was still regressing and that this place had stools and reminder signs everywhere to ‘Just Ask For Help,’ each blazoned with some sort of cartoon animal and the consequence they were experiencing by not asking for it. The panda having an accident in their pants or the puppy banging their head after falling off a ladder were particularly hard-hitting for me. Mrs. Middleton looked at me sympathetically and like she wanted to encourage me further, but gratefully didn’t push the issue further. “Come on, it’s time for you to meet the rest of the baseball group here.” I remained emotionless at the prospect, despite her cheery ways like I somehow was about to go see a million dollars in cash and merely followed her into a large classroom down the hallway. Looking down, I soon realized that the checkered tile floor was white, but the alternating tiles were split between either maroon or forest-green coloring. The classroom I was going to on the right side of the building was marked with the forest-green tiles and similarly matched my wristband. Getting closer to the door, loud noises could be heard from within, and I was not prepared for the chaos I saw when Mrs. Middleton opened the door and we both walked in. Kids were screaming everywhere, and Miguel, the teacher she had mentioned earlier, was nowhere to be seen. “Class?” Mrs. Middleton’s voice was calm, but its forcefulness and volume seemed to shake the brightly colored construction paper decorations and drawings posted around the classroom. Almost immediately, every kid stopped and looked at Mrs. Middleton. “Thank you. First, I want you all to clean up this mess, but more importantly, and second, I want to announce to you all that we have a new student today. This here is Pete. Say hello, Pete.” I felt like I was six again and coming to a new school. I hated those times in my life, and feeling a little apprehensive over getting stuck with a bunch of kids, I could only give a little wave. Feeling self-conscious, I could almost make out the sensation of at least ten pairs of eyes focusing intently on me right then. A few waved back at me, but Mrs. Middleton stepped in after a second. “Now, I want you all to make him feel welcome. Is that understood?” “Yes, Mrs. Middleton,” the class said in unison. It was an odd mixture of half with clear pronunciations and the other half being comprised of slurred speech. Seeing a few pocket groups of older ARs in the rear closer to my age, I suspected they were the more articulate while the younger ones closer to me now were showing just one of their physical limitations. A door then opened to the left and a muscular Latino man walked out, holing a younger boy’s hand. Quickly, I guessed it was the ‘Miguel’ that Mrs. Middleton mentioned earlier. Seeing her and I standing in the doorway still, he quickly looked relieved. “Mrs. Middleton! You’re back!” He then looked at the rest of the class and let the younger boy’s hand go. “I think we all missed you a lot while you were away. Right class?” “Yes, Mr. Aguilar!” the class roared back. I thought it was cute with how easily some of them obeyed and followed along but remembering that most had been adults at one point, a little stupid as well. Mrs. Middleton was gone maybe 30 to 40 minutes at the most and the class was acting like she had been gone for months. Keeping myself from rolling my eyes or judging them too harshly, I guessed that it was just going to be another item I would need to get used to in dealing with younger and possibly more mentally affected ARs. “And this is Petey?” Mr. Aguilar asked, now looking slightly down at me. “Pete,” I corrected. No one had called me Petey in years other than Amanda, and she was family. It was a mark of youth and one I did not want to add to myself today on top of everything else. “Pete. Right. I’ll remember that.” He seemed stiffer around me, but considering the rest of the class, I guessed that he was probably used to working with a younger audience for students. “I was just helping Jeremy here use the potty for a minute.” “Right…” Mrs. Middleton didn’t seem impressed that he had left the class alone, but also didn’t make a big deal out of it as she wandered away from me and towards Mr. Aguilar. “Okay class. Tidy up around here and remember to make Pete feel welcome. At this point, I suspect that we’ll be going to lunch soon, so be sure to listen for the bell and then line up by the door.” The class, now seemingly reeled in, went about tidying the room up as instructed, now adopting a more controlled chaos atmosphere around the room. Seeing all of them and knowing full-well that I was technically looking at adults, it felt overwhelming and scary to see them now so compliant to the will of teachers that might have very well been younger them just a year ago now. Needless to say, my thoughts were elsewhere, so when I felt a hand grip my arm, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Gotcha! Got tired of art class, huh?” a youthful but familiar-sounding voice asked. I turned to face the figure and saw it was Phil. “Phil!” I grinned back at him in utter relief. Despite our similar regression and current standings in front of what seemed closer to Building 4 now, that is if we didn’t bounce before then, it was amazing to see someone familiar in all this chaotic newness all around us. “They stuck you here too, huh?” “Yep,” he confirmed with a smile, which soon faded. “Sorry to bail on you all the other week. Miss Linton said it was a form of Infasia and that I was zoned out and probably dealing with a younger mindset for a second there. Could have stayed, but I figured… why fight all that other stuff. Coming here… I guess was just inevitable, you know?” “Yeah… I was a bit confused at first when you left, but thinking about it more, I figured it had to be something like that later that night. I did some research too.” I felt a child run up my spine from what I had seen that night. “Geesh, is that stuff scary or what? Worse than any horror movie from before.” “Totally,” Phile agreed, but I could see he wanted to talk about anything else. It turned out that the ‘anything else’ was me. “I heard about your thing yesterday. That had to suck. Still hurt?” Phil gestured to my still sore gash from yesterday on my forehead. Gratefully, I saw that it was smaller this morning and was again reminded that one of the few perks of regression was the healing factor. I already knew that scars from whatever year they were originally formed would vanish when you got passed that stage. Any new injury, due to the damage to the cells or something of the sort, would take a quarter of the time it would normally take to heal. Hearing the news, increasing numbers of hospital patients were almost desiring to be a victim themselves to reverse whatever affliction they had. Risky, but I didn’t want to judge people who were either facing long-term disability or even death with the risk of ending up in diapers. Nodding to his question, I self-consciously rubbed the band-aid I had placed over it this morning after my shower. “A bit. Can you believe it though? Vivian tried to blow up the whole thing yesterday. I think she was the one who tried to get me sent to Warton’s. In the clinic with Gina and Dr. Smothers after and Warton burst in, I thought I was a goner.” “I believe it…” Phil said with almost a haunted look in his eyes. I wondered what he was thinking right then. “What a witch.” At first, I thought he was trying to call her some broom-flying and cackling evil spawn, but then I realized he meant something else entirely. “Wait… you mean bit…” “Stop!” Phil’s hand shot up to my mouth. It didn’t cover it fully, but it made a strong point, especially when I noticed his eyes darting about the classroom in fear. “Don’t say stuff like that. One of the classroom rules here is to not curse.” He then gestured over to a large sign over on the fall wall that listed several rules. It was clearly printed but was made to look like it had been written in crayon. Near the top, right next to ‘Ask a Teacher Permission to Leave,’ and ‘No Hitting,’ was ‘No Cursing.’ It put my teeth on edge already. “What the…? I thought we were going to be treated like adults? And speaking of which, what the hel… what’s going on here? Why are there eight-year-olds mixed with us?” “Yeah…” I saw that Phil like had the same thought at one point. “We can be treated like adults, but with all the mixtures of classes with ages, it’s hard to get that universal treatment. Look at Jeremy.” I looked over to where he gestured at the squat four-year-old playing with a train. “He’s been here for three months now. Still hasn’t bounced fully but he’s been here so long that there’s not much difference between him and a real four-year-old most days at this point... Infasia or just giving up. Still not sure which, honestly.” He seemed happy, but the way his hands moved and his long near-vacant gaze at the action figure in his hand showed the harsh reality that his life was now. “That’s a long stretch to not have bounced. That’s gotta be tough.” “I suppose. I’d rather that than… this though,” Phil said, gesturing to his body. “They get used to it and can adapt better. Helps their minds not snap. Talked to a few around here since I wound up in this class. This group is strangely split between the fast regressors and long-term young ones. The faster like us don’t last long, but the others… well, two weeks ago most of them were still jumping rope or playing with Barbies. Us? Lot different even a month ago…” I realized that each step back for them could be handled with grace. Lose one ability and you could get used to it, while for regressors like us or those even worse off could find multiple losses in just a few days. Last week, I was the same height I had been at for years. Now… I was shorter than my dad and Lucas… “Good point. So, anything I should kno…?” Like a piercing scream in my ear canal, the bell rang out for lunch and cut me off. “Perfect,” Phil shouted with joy. “That’s the bell for lunch. We eat earlier than Building 2 so a few of the kids here can take an afternoon nap after recess. We go to another class while they do that, and it can be annoying to eat so early, but we also get a snack!” He seemed a little too excited for my comfort about that notion, but I didn’t have time to ask any questions. “Come on!” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. “We can talk more once we’re there!” I wanted to know any tips or tricks, but I figured I would find out later, so I just followed Phil and lined up. A few inspections from Mr. Aguilar and Mrs. Middleton later, and we were off. Like Building 2, the cafeteria was large but unlike the old one, this new place contained multiple rectangular tables and individual seats with backs on them instead of the benches and stools surrounding the circular tables of Building 2. T.V.’s also adorned the walls but were now mostly showing animated and kid-focused sitcoms. Like the classroom previously, signs of maturity were exceedingly rare. Still, experienced, Phil and I sat at the edge of one of the far tables. Mr. Augilar and Mrs. Middleton sat off to the side and monitored the situation closely, paying particular attention to a few of the unrulier tables and a few I saw in booster seats. Despite our regression already, Phil and I seemed to be in the minority and upper echelons of maturity in the group. Knowing our rates though, I wasn’t sure how long that was actually going to last. Getting our trays, the food almost identical for us as compared to Building 2, I ate a little but had a burning question to ask my friend. “So, Phil? What’s up with the whole daycare instead of a classroom thing like we had back in Building 2?” “From this morning you mean? The class we just came from?” I nodded. “Yeah. It’s a bit… different.” I could see Phil was hiding something, so I continued to press him for more information. “But why?” “To learn how to be good!” a younger boy squeaked out. Looking over, Phil mouthed the name ‘Jeremy’ to me. Sighing, our conversation hadn’t been as private as I would have liked, made even worse by the fact of hearing Jeremy, Mrs. Middleton shot a smile my way. “Ah,” I said playing along and trying not to make a scene, “that makes sense.” Jeremy smiled and then went back to playing with the peas and carrots on his plate. Not wanting to repeat any of that, I continued with Phil in a lower volume. “But… aren’t we supposed to be learning. It’s a school still, right?” “Right… but not really for us… for now at least.” I looked at him puzzled. “Look outside.” I did. “See the other wing of the building over there through the windows?” I nodded. “That’s the red section. They learn all the time. They’ve bounced. No more regression for them.” “So, we don’t count?” I asked, worry gripping my whole body now. “Not at all in the mornings, but this is the government remember. Think about it. It’s all about the funding, man. Like the secondhand stuff in the art studio, they’re going to pay for the stuff they can guarantee. People still regressing might lose whatever knowledge they gain on the whole… especially for the younger of the crowd. No way Uncle Same is going to pay for the same education twice, let alone three times! So, in the mornings, we’re just like the rest of the younger class.” It made sense in the most depressing of ways. “I heard the country just lost a tenth of its workforce off the bat. The gas has affected more of us, but a tenth of them now have to go to places like these. Of that tenth, 40% won’t be able to work again in the next year.” Phil looked like he was thinking for a moment, and I gave him some space to do so. “Our population is what? 400 million or something like that?” “I guess?” I said, shrugging. “I lost track after 2025.” “Doesn’t matter. These are estimates anyways and I could be way off here.” He shifted in his seat like I noticed he had done whenever he was ramping up one of his arguments back in Building 2 before. “10% of 400 million is 40 million. That’s 40 million lost jobs immediately. Of that, 40%, or 16 million, were now immediately removed from the workplace. No more taxes from them. Maybe future jobs, but that’s it. So, the government is going to focus on those that can be helped and enter the workforce in the next decade. Not us… at least not officially.” Phil had a moody and dark side to him, but he could also be logical and expressive when he wanted to. It was hard to argue with his numbers. I just wish I wasn’t on the largely losing side of those equations… aka, part of the 40% or 4% of all the country that was no longer going to work. My one hope was when the younger kids were taking their naps. It was less time by far as compared to Building 2, but it was still something I could look forward to. * * * Back to today, the morning was very much the same as it had been since my first day here. Controlled chaos reigned and was only punctuated by new arrivals or those transferring down to Building 4, and they were the worst. Drenched or smelly pants followed them around like a red smear of shame that could be spotted from space. It was the fear of everyone, and I think only the presence of Phil and our afternoon classes helped me get through those first few days in Building 3. Not for nothing though… I was also grateful for the new ease of the afternoon evaluations. Being cut by at least a third, the questions were also easier, and my scores were soaring. Of course, they also asked about simpler things… like washing your hands, colors, and general reading abilities, but I was passing them. The bonus questions on the last sheet were challenging, but I knew they were just leftovers from those in Building 2. Passing them was always a nice bonus, but failure of them, like some of our class did, meant nothing. Still, today, after finishing lunch, I joined Phil going outside for recess as I usually did. It was the same as it had been in Building 2 but now terribly felt more appropriate given our new ages. Also, unlike the near impenetrable wall separating Building 4 from Building 3, Building 2 and 3 had only a small chain-link fence between them. So, after milling about for a little bit with Phil, asking questions and just generally passing the time, I finally saw our old art group passing the frisbee around again. Oddly, I had only seen them in passing so far since I had arrived in Building 3. “Hey, look. It’s our old group,” I said excitedly. “Huh?” Strangely, Phil seemed more interested in a rock on the ground than the prospect of seeing our friends again. Since I had come over, I wondered why he hadn’t reached out when he first came over, but I still hadn’t asked him about it yet. “Oh, yeah… them.” “I’m going to go say hi,” I said, walking out over to them, trying to ignore Phil’s clear reluctance to see them again. “I wouldn’t…” Phil managed to say before I was out of earshot. The low and see-through fence meant interacting with them wasn’t against the rules, so I was still not seeing why he was so hesitant. For that matter though, we could technically interact with the Building 4 residents, but… ‘Who would really want to do that? They were babies and we’re older kids… shit.’ I didn’t mean to think that. It just… popped out. ‘Older kids…’ The thought weakened my resolve as I walked over to the fence slightly separating out the Building 2 property, but I still managed to maintain my stride. Coming over, almost into the field of play, I noticed several people were already staring at me. Seeing the fence now and the lack of anyone crossing it before, I guessed it was unusual to cross into here, but no one was yelling at me, so I still felt safe calling over to my old friends. “Hey guys!” I gave a little wave to my group. Vivian managed to catch the frisbee, actually seemingly wanting to play today, but it was immediately obvious that my presence in the group was, to put it mildly, shocking to them. “Err… what are you doing here, Pete?” Jake asked, twisting his fingers together in clear discomfort. Seeing that, his twisting fingers started to make me uncomfortable. My mind instantly began to swarm. ‘Maybe I had made a mistake coming here. Did I?’ I tried to answer my own internal question, but I just wound up coming up short, so I just pushed on. “Well… I saw you guys over here and I just wanted to say hi…” “He means what’s a little kid like you doing over here?” Harry clarified forcefully and untactfully. My stomach instantly twisted itself into a knot. “Yeah,” Vivian sneered. “Aren’t you supposed to be learning your ABCs or something?” “That’s for really young kids, Viv,” Betty clarified. “Pete’s not that young… yet.” ‘Yet.’ The word implied so much in yet so little space. After only 40 seconds it was becoming obvious that I no longer belonged here… and likely why Phil had never come over either. “Pete… why don’t you go back to the others?” Jake asked, clearly trying to be the most helpful one in the group. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll have a better time with them, Pete,” Diane said, finally speaking up with her usual warmth I had expected when I was first walking over here. I could see all of them wanting me to go, but I felt that I at least needed to explain myself first. Diane’s offer to talk and see them when I left before still was clicking in my head, so if I had any shot of changing their minds, I knew I had to take it. “Yeah… it’s just… Well, I’m just… they’re not, uh… my type?” “You’re type?” Vivian asked in an obviously mocking way. “Are you trying to date one of them now, Petey?” She gave out a little laugh, that to my horror, Harry and Betty joined in as well. Jake smirked but remained silent. Diane just seemed numb and distant to it all. “No! It’s just that…” I tried to see if Diane or Jake could bail me out, but neither was stepping in. To my horror, I saw my tiny act of trying to hold onto my friends was really going down the tubes now. As much as it pained me to seemingly close the door forever on them, I just wanted to leave. It was clear that I wasn’t viewed as their equal anymore. Not physically at least, but seeing Vivian, Betty, and Harry laughing still… they probably didn’t think mentally either. “Come on y’all,” Jake coaxed. “Whistle is about to blow, and we have our evaluations to complete.” He waved at them, and the group started to depart. Most, no longer laughing now, just looked at me with a mix of sadness and sympathy. It was a growing look that I was getting far too familiar with lately. Jake paused briefly like he was going to apologize but just shook his head and joined the others. Pretty soon, only Diane was left. There was silence for a second between us, so while I didn’t want to, I knew I needed to go first. “You don’t need to stay… I get it now… I’m not one of you anymore…” I looked at the ground despondently and kicked a small dusty pebble, just to avoid looking directly at Diane. I could already feel the lump in my throat and the shame fill my soul for even attempting this in the first place. I heard the ground crunch slightly and then felt a larger hand as it wrapped gently around my wrist. “Look at me, Pete.” I looked up at Diane and saw pity in her eyes like so many others, but there was a mix of kindness and warmth there as well that I had longed for so badly since I had first come to Building 3. Phil was great, but he was no Diane. “I’m sorry about them, but don’t pay them any attention. Your last day here…” she sighed, clearly thinking back to that day herself, “was a bit much for them to simply forget.” I swallowed, trying in vain to get the lump out of my throat. “But I couldn’t help it…” Diane sighed again. “I know that, Pete, and I think deep down, they know that as well. But this whole thing messes with people and maybe this is how it manifests with them. Plus, you’re obviously regressing faster than they are or did, so for them, in the same span that they even knew you, you could be that kid playing with blocks absent-mindedly.” It was a bruise to my ego, but I knew she could be right. “Remember, most of us have seen all this stuff before. You and Phil were great, but you might be the twentieth person we’ve met here to only lose them after such a short time.” I didn’t think about it like that. It had been less than a year since the gas and most of the old group was made up of slow regressors. Betty was the fastest but was still clocking in at around a year every few weeks, and last I heard, even with her, she was likely to bounce soon and maybe even leave this place in a month. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise to still be your friend after all this, but for now…” I could see her eyes swim with regret and pain. “I think it’s best if you go back over to your class. Don’t be a stranger and give me a wave every once in a while, but I think you might like it more over there on your side now.” She gestured to the similar activities happening behind Building 3 that I had gotten used to in Building 2. Frisbee, kickball, and all other usual outdoor recess activities were there, plus a jungle gym as well. Looking over on Diane’s side of the fence, I knew full well that there wasn’t going to be one. “I guess… you’re right,” I conceded. “I wasn’t thinking… I’m just a kid… a stupid kid…” Out of nowhere, before I could even finish my self-loathing, Diane broke and gave me a massive hug across the fence, now bending down a little to do so. Not long ago, I can freely admit that a hug from her would have elicited numerous ideas to appeal to my hormonal mind. Now, with a little dread and resignation, I just felt comfort while in her embrace. “You’re not stupid, Pete,” she said after about a minute. “You just want to feel normal. We all do, but you just gotta hang in there and find the joy where you can. Don’t let this place get to you like it had for the others. Just breathe and promise me that you be okay, alright?” I nodded, still cradled in her arms. Sighing, we held that position for a few more minutes until Diane broke it off first. “Okay, Pete. I need to go. People are already inside for the evaluations, and I don’t want to be late. Besides, you’ve gotta go back. Your recess is almost over, and Phil is going to want to sit next to you in class pretty soon here.” “Okay…” I gathered my strength and started to distance myself from both Diane and Building 2. “Thank you, but…” I wanted to say something more, but thinking better of it, I simply shook my head. “Goodbye, Diane.” “Goodbye, Pete.” She then gave a little wave, which soon turned into a fist. “Stay tough out there. You got this.” I nodded, gave a little wave back, and turned back to return to the Building 3 group. Looking ahead, Mrs. Middleton was already waiting for me when I got back to the main bulk of the group. “You need to ask permission to see them in the future, Pete. Okay? You didn’t cross, but just in case, I need you to stay on this side of the fence.” “Okay… but I won’t be going back over there anymore…” I said pitifully, not even looking back up at her. Shifting her feet closer to me, I could sense what she was about to ask before she even spoke the first word. “Did something happ…?” “Just forget about it.” Looking back up with a pleading look for her not pursue it any further, I could see my words worried her a little bit and that she likely wanted to ask me more about it. As such, I could see her fingers twitching like we were in some kind of shooting contest, but she remained still. “Umm… okay.” Her words were those of a cautious resignation, but I was just grateful she didn’t push anything. “I guess if that’s what you want, but… I, uh… I think Phil was looking for you. Last I saw, he was hanging around the slides.” I only nodded and walked off toward the playground equipment, still feeling the burden of my failure from my encounter with my old group. We hadn’t even been together for very long, but the loss of the majority of my first real friends after I had begun to regress was a major blow. Oliver wasn’t great, but he was just one person. This time, there were five people telling me to essentially go away because of my age. Phil seemed to be the only one I could rely on now. I found him sitting by himself on one of the swings by a large green enclosed and spiraling down slide. He was kicking a few bits of the recycled playground material underneath the swing when he spotted me. “Hey, Pete.” His happy demeanor quickly changed after observing my mood for a minute. “Guess things didn’t go well with the old group, huh?” “No… They didn’t.” I paused for a moment and took a seat on a swing next to Phil, starting to move back and forth, not really caring about my height or the rhythm of it all like most did on these swings. “You know, I think I’m the only one who doesn’t view me as a kid lately.” Phil looked at me perplexed for a second, but like any good friend, still played along. “You expected something… different?” “I mean, yeah…” I swung a little bit more to gather my thoughts better before speaking back up. “All the brochures and news stories… it all seemed so…” “Harmonious?” Phil asked, looking at me as if he had somehow already anticipated this conversation. “Exactly…” I said, amazed and trying to figure out if he had some superpower or not. “I mean, where’s all the equality shi… stuff they were talking about?” “I hear you, man,” he consoled me. “Thought the same thing at first, but I realized one afternoon that it’s just a brochure they sell to get people to come here in the first place. Accurate with facts and statistics, but slogans and the reality of it all? Nah.” He paused and then shifted in his swing to face me better. “Face it, Pete. We’re pre-teens in all but our minds now. And maybe not even those for much longer. Hard to even say that.” I nodded, knowing he was right for the first time since I had contracted the virus. “I just was hoping for, I don’t know… more.” “Yeah. Maybe we’ll feel better when we’re on the younger side of things here, but for today, I think we just need to ride this type of stuff out.” I hated that Phil was probably right about it all and my queasy feeling started to come back into focus. “I guess you’re right…” I conceded once more today. “No, I am right, man,” Phil shot back. “We’re on the upper end of things meant for those who are younger. Cater to those that need the most, and that’s not us. Think Jeremy levels, for our group at least… or at least for most of the day and not counting our next class.” Resigning to his conclusions though, I looked across the playground at Jeremy. His legs were spread out on the sidewalk, and he was doodling in large shaky gestures with chalk. His gaze looked far away today more than usual, and off to the side, I noticed Mr. Augilar would glance at him every few minutes or so. “I can’t believe I would want to end up like him… even if just to enjoy this place more.” I felt shame and even blushed a little at the notion. Still, Phil could read me pretty well, and he placed a deft hand over his heart. “No judgment, man. Had the same thought the other day myself.” Grinning at each other, we passed the time for a little bit longer, swinging back and forth and kicking up the shredded turf underneath our feet. Occasionally, another young person would pass by to use the slide or another swing, but they never stayed long enough for us to ask their name. Once again, the bell rang out and Mr. Augilar and Mrs. Middleton started to herd their own group back in. I saw other pods of teachers gather their own classes back, each kid wearing a red or green bracelet with a tiny charm or symbol of their own class structure here. “So, uh… exam or evaluation time now, right?” I asked, trying to remember the schedule I was shown earlier today. “No… or at least not until later. To be honest, it’s the one part of this place I hate more than the rest…” ‘Shit.’ “Since our abilities are less in question now, beyond our toilet control, its more about easing us into this lifestyle. Think physical therapy meets daycare, but it means our exam is simply shorter… which is why we get another class in the afternoons before it.” I pondered what he had just said, and while I knew the schedule by now, I desperately wanted to know about the curve balls and what not. “So, what? Washing our hands on the exam?” I asked sarcastically. “Pretty much,” Phil responded back with a straight face, still not minding explaining all this to me for at least the sixth time. “Wow…” I said, trying to cut the tension a little bit while we started fast-walking to the front door, “I was making a joke, but…” “Oof!” Phil and I were so engrossed in our conversation that we didn’t notice that one of the older kids had stopped, and we had run right into his lower back. Looking up, my stomach dropped in fear. It was Ian… the bully. “What the… hell?” the large pale and greasy black-haired teen spat at us in seeming confusion at the end. “You two babies not see where you’re going?” Phil and I looked at each other in fear over this new threat. “I’m sorry… please don’t hurt me…” I managed to squeak out. Despite being mentally older, my physical size had become frail over the past few days. Working out had never been a major priority for me, but my physical presence had at least been aided by my more active lifestyle with activities like hiking and rowing. Previously, at this age though, my muscle mass and sheer presence were simply not very intimidating. “Crew?” The teen then gestured to a group of guys, who quickly surrounded us. “It’s time to show these two why anyone here doesn’t mess with Butch and his gang.” The blonde and similarly greased-hair bully stood behind them all, seemingly itching for a fight. Phil and I gulped over what was going to happen to us next. Butch had a terrible reputation, and even Ian was scared of him at one point. But, with Ian now a part of his crew, it only meant one thing… Phil and I were screwed.