LostBBoyBear Posted January 24 Posted January 24 Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to a break with social normities. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Punishments (often unfair, degrading, and/or humiliating) Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of expletives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Political themes associated with revolutions or desires of change or freedoms Literal age regression Depictions of younger children and babies (formerly adults) Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific acts to anything overtly sexual; however, some fetishes maybe touched on in this story more than my previous ones. Still, as usual, this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list here is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be warranted later if needed (though may not be added). If I deem any chapters to be too ‘triggering,’ I will issue another separate warning beforehand. Hey everyone and welcome back! It's almost been a month since I lasted posted regularly with my previous story, and it's definitely been an interesting start to the year so far. Can't say I'm a fan of everything going on, but this story has been a nice place to find some refuge. Also... I swear that I really will get around to updating the DD Reference Guide. May is way too long. Now, as per your previous polling, this story won out over the other two. So far, it’s about 22 chapters total, but this might be subject to change. I need to see how a few things play out after I‘ve fully written and edited a few critical chapters that may need more room to breathe so to speak. As such, it very well could be more. Additionally, I don’t see my work backing down at all and I do have a few trips planned out coming up here, so I will try my best to commit again to at least three chapters a week. More could drop occasionally, especially with some of these chapters having already been written out, but I can’t commit to that fully at this point. Looking ahead, as usual, I will post another poll with three stories in the mix for my next story in chapter two. There are a few things going on this weekend that could delay this but I’m hoping to post chapter 2 by Monday night at the very latest. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story of mine! Chapter 1: Breaking News! It was just like any other spring day in April. The flowers were beginning to pop out and a nice gentle breeze occasionally wafted through the already warming days. Pollen was on its way in large numbers, and I knew I would soon be able to put away even my lighter jacket from my list of things I carried with me outside of the house daily. Nearby, green stems of the plants ready to bloom soon were further signs that change and the truly warmer months were on their way. Being a Sunday, I was well on my way over to joining my parents, and my younger brother and sister for our weekly family dinner. None of us were truly the best communicators out there, so starting when I went away to college, we all at least attempted to attend a regular family meal to keep everyone in the loop on each other’s lives. Journeying from my apartment on the other side of the city, I usually took the freeway that curved around the south side of the main downtown area, but some kind of accident forced me onto the main city streets today instead. Listening to my classic rock station, as soon as I began to pass by some of the taller skyscrapers, my radio suddenly sputtered and crackled. “We pause your regular scheduled program today to bring you an emergency news report. Residents of major cities are advised to avoid downtown areas if all possible,” the almost electronic voice sounded out. I rolled my eyes, seeing the tall skyscrapers starting to grow in numbers and height all around me. Not the largest city in the country, but definitely a major one. “Great… now you tell me… where were you five minutes ago?” The classic rock station then resumed, but despite the heavy bass and solid drum beat echoing in my car once again, I simply couldn’t get my mind off what I had just heard. The last time an announcement like that had been made, the president was in town for some political rally, and the time before that was because of some high terror alert made from some terrorist group. Not hearing of the president or any other celebrity coming into the city today, my hands grew sweaty on the wheel as my mind reeled with the possibili… “Hey!” a voice shouted out in front of me. I immediately hit my breaks and popped out of my own thoughts long enough to see a police officer only about a foot away from the front of my car. Visibly angry, they marched right over to my window and gestured abruptly for me to roll it down, which I did promptly. “Didn’t you hear me before? Didn’t you see me waving at you for you to stop and go the other way?” “No…,” I admitted. “I’m sorry officer. I just heard on the radio about not coming downtown and I was thinking about what… it… could…” I stopped as my eyes drifted just beyond the officer and to the several other police swarming the main downtown area. The once pristine and normally peaceful park at this time on a Sunday just outside of city hall was now littered with dozens of military men and even more police… all setting up barricades or patrolling around… each seemingly ready to react to something. “Uh… the president wouldn’t happen to be coming here today, right?” While looking a little annoyed still, the officer saw where I was looking and then eased up a bit and sighed as she moved a stray hair of her back behind her ear. “No, sir. A fringe group posted a video on their website this morning threatening several major city centers with a demonstration of some kind. Government agencies have listed the threat as credible, so we’re rerouting all traffic coming through here over to West E Street. You know where that is from here?” I nodded. “Local and all, so yes. That’s just two turns away from this intersection up ahead or the one just behind me now.” “Very good, sir,” she said, her face now looking more apprehensive than angry or even annoyed now. “Please reroute over that way with the intersection behind you. There will be signs taking you all the way… just in case.” I nodded again. “Thank you, officer. I’ll get a move on right now…” Without rolling my window back up, I started turning my car wheel to the right to eventually make my U-turn and then get over to West E Street as instructed. Before I could make a full rotation though, the police officer came back to my window “Oh, and sir?” I stopped turning my wheel as the officer clearly forgot to mention something important. “I advise you go to your destination and stay there for a while this afternoon. Your own residence, a friend or a family member would be best… especially away from the city if possible… understand?” “Thank you, officer… just heading over to my family’s house now actually. Over in the Eastern Hills district,” I clarified. About 60% of the neighborhood had a good view of the city, even with all the trees now, but it was still considered outside the main boundary of the city. “Very good, sir,” she said, looking a little relieved. “On your way then.” Her smile put me at ease, but her underlying show of relief and all the other precautions I was now seeing to my rear back in the main part of downtown did not. Still, I drove off, and sure enough, a myriad of signs directed me right over to West E Street, which all then directed me to the beltway. Fortunately, the radio message seemed to do the trick and as I tracked over to my parents’ house, the roads started to become significantly emptier. Eventually pulling up to the house though, I could see my mom pacing back and forth on the front porch, clearly worried that I hadn’t arrived at my usual time. “And just where have you been?” she asked, flipping to me quickly, allowing her hair with her slightly graying roots to flap about in the air. It was always nice to see her and the rest of my family each Sunday, but unfortunately, her tone told me she was both nervous and frustrated with my tardiness. “Sorry… had to take a detour getting over here,” I noted. I guessed her real source of distress was hearing about the warning to stay away from the downtown area, but knowing her, I didn’t want her to worry needlessly about my safety in confirming that I had literally just come from there. She glared at me, but then just waved me inside. “Fine, fine. You should account for all that before you leave, but…” She then sighed and shook her head, seemingly letting my tardiness go. “Just… come inside, Pete. Dinner’s almost ready and the rest of your siblings are already here.” Locking my car door, I nodded and headed inside without further comment. Almost immediately, Amanda ran up to me and did her best to jump into my arms. My younger sister had been a bit of a whoops with my parents, now clocking in at 4 years old, compared to my younger brother Lucas’ 22 and my 28. “Petey!” she squealed. “Youwe here!” I smiled and nodded before nuzzling my nose into hers. “That’s right you little munchkin! All the traffic in the world couldn’t keep me away from my favorite sister!” She giggled in my arms, appreciating my affection and being known as ‘the favorite’ of anything. “She is your only though…” Amanda and I stopped and looked over at our sullen brother, Lucas. Freshly returned from his relatively nearby university for our dinner only and entering his master’s program this year for engineering, the burden of his work had made him surly and had rubbed off the more playful edge he had when he had first left for college. I missed the kid who used to beg me to play tag with him sometimes… “Well… looks like the party pooper is here and in usual form, right sis?” Amanda nodded, likely just to his label as a ‘party pooper,’ and pouted in his direction. Noticing, I couldn’t help but crack a small grin at her tiny fierceness against my brother. “Oops. Looks like you made her mad, bro. I think someone needs to say sorry, huh? What do you think, nugget?” Again, Amanda pouted, even crossing her arms this time, and nodded defiantly. Lucas rolled his eyes but ultimately relented and came over to give us both a hug. Being the older brother of the two, I felt it was my responsibility to keep them civil whenever I could… even if that meant putting my foot down occasionally. Mom and dad did a pretty good job themselves at keeping the order between us, but busy with dinner preparations tonight and at other times, I took over that role nearly seamlessly. “Kids! Dinner’s on!” a voice thundered from inside the house. Unmistakably our dads, his voice was pleasant but overall commanding. It meant get in the kitchen now and don’t dawdle or risk incurring your mom’s wrath over a potentially cold meal. So, scrambling apart, I set Amanda down, and the three of us darted into the kitchen without delay. Quickly serving their own plates, my mom helping Amanda out first before helping her into her booster chair and my brother piling the Bolognese high on his plate, my dad looked at me with a single raised graying eyebrow, his forehead wrinkling precipitously as he did so. “You avoided the car accident on 62 and went downtown, didn’t you? Your… detour, huh?” I sighed and nodded, knowing I could never keep a secret from the man in my life. He just had one of those uncanny knacks of being able to figure out the truth and know it before anyone else. Lucas and I still wondered if his old government job was really a cover for him being a secret agent or something and that’s where he had learned his skills at… but we had never dared to ask him. Still, regardless of how he got them, I didn’t want everyone to know about the little secret he had just pulled out about me and where I had really been today. “Don’t tell the others, please, Dad?” My dad smirked and then quickly shook his head. “I might be an adrenaline junky still, Pete, but I’m not crazy. If your mom knew… whew! She’d find some way to make sure you never drove over here again, or at the very least… find some way to make sure you checked in with her every five or ten minutes in coming over here for the future. So, no. I won’t tell her. I don’t think either of us want to see her like that, right?” I rolled my eyes, but I knew he wasn’t kidding about what she would do. “Right but… ugh! She’s just so…” My dad smirked and nodded his head. “Yeah, but give her some slack. She means well and all. Just wants you kids to be safe… her mother hen instinct is all. Can’t blame her for that…” I shook my head and that was that. Some might have considered that a lie of omission with my mom, but I still had made it here in one piece and dwelling on it anymore would have just been a waste. Serving my own meal, I quickly took a seat in between Amanda and Lucas, still sensing the tension and prickly demeanor between the two. Lucas was a man of science and numbers. Everything was a calculation to him, while Amanda was still at the age where magic was real, and everything could be solved with a good hug or a kiss. Unfortunately, Lucas was short on both lately. Still, the weekly family dinner proceeded as usual and seemed liked a pleasant exchange of the latest news from each of us. Lucas was having problems with one of his professors while Amanda had a sudden aversion to broccoli. Dad was settling into his new position as the head of a security company and mom was doing her best to close a deal on a particular lavish house in an up-and-coming neighborhood located just north of the city. Finally, though, the conversation turned to me, and I could almost predict the first question coming from my mom. “So, Pete… no Molly today?” she asked innocuously, but probingly. “Did you two…?” She didn’t finish her question, but the implication was clear about my current girlfriend. “No, mom. We didn’t break up. She’s just traveling right now for her job. Some photo shoot up in the mountains for the magazine.” My mom nodded and accepted the answer, but I could still see her hesitation about Molly… the same she had harbored when I first introduced her to my family a few months back now. I felt great about her and that our relationship was moving right along, but my mom thought she was too flaky or some nonsense like that. Annoying, but still, my mom had the decency to not interfere with our relationship or pick it apart… unlike two girlfriends ago that is. The conversation then moved on to discussing the future as usual, but about halfway through discussing our summer beach trip, my mom stopped and glared at my dad. “Honey… do you really need to keep the TV on in the other room? It’s very distracting right now. I don’t think we need to be listening to commercials about a deal for some half-priced pizza.” “Half priced?” Lucas perked up. My dad grumbled though, and Lucas resigned himself back in his seat, though I could still see his mind was racing on a deal like that. Turning his attention back to my mom next, our dad cleared his throat first. “Well… I think we need to keep it on. There’s problems out there, babe, and we need to be prepared.” He paused and momentarily gulped. “Uh, if it makes you feel better though, I can turn it down if you…” “No,” my mom quickly voiced. She was clearly annoyed with the TV, but she knew an unwinnable argument when she heard one. In this case it was her own comfort weighed against the safety of the family, and safety always seemed to win out in her book. “Keep it on. We need to hear if there’s an announcement…” The tension lingering in the air a little still though, my mom especially hating to back down from any argument, no one spoke for at least the next few minutes. Wanting to bring back the smiles however, I remembered a joke I had heard from one of my coworkers in the office just last week. “Hey… what kind of cheese do they eat on Sesame Street?” The mere mention of the show’s name made Amanda perk up and Lucas sigh while he rolled his eyes. He knew the set up of a ‘dad’ joke when he heard one. “I don’t know,” my dad responded, being at least a good sport about it. “What?” A cracked a tiny smile. “Cookie Muenster,” I said, even using the character’s voice for the punch line. Amanda laughed, but probably more from my silly voice than the actual joke itself. “Oh, god… really, Pete?” Lucas groaned. I only shrugged back. Corny, yes, but also effective. It was just enough to get a few other jokes going around the table, and gratefully, everyone out of their previous funk. “Okay… how about this one…” my mom finally piped up, joining in. “What bird leads the orchestra?” Lucas scratched his head, and I leaned forward to think about it. “I dunno… what, mommy?” Amanda questioned first though. “Well, I’ll tell you,” our mom said after a second, looking around the room yet likely seeing the rest of her family stumped. “The…” Before she could respond, a high-pitched beeping started to go off. Looking around the table at my stunned family for a moment, likely as a result of the stark realization over the noise, we all got up and quickly ran to the living room to confirm our fears. ‘Breaking News!’ The television screen flashed the message prominently, and the high-pitched beeping noise was replaced by a loud, long beep that then echoed throughout the family room. Amanda quickly put her hands over her ears and started screaming. My mom, seeing her distress and wincing a little over the alarm herself, quickly went over to pick her up and comfort her. “Does it have to be so loud?” Lucas then asked, his own hands going up to cover his ears. Instead of the pain that our mom and Amanda were showing, his was more of one of annoyance. Our dad nodded. “It’s important,” he said, his voice cresting just slightly over the incessant alarm sound. “It’s a one size fits all. When your mom and I were younger, they used a similar one to announce about a nuclear bomb. Tested them all the time and we all had to practice those drills in case one ever went off.” He smiled triumphantly, but none of the rest of us were smiling though. Realizing what he had just done, his face quickly turned to panic, and he tried to fix his glaring mistake… but it was too late. “Wait! Nuclear bomb? Is that what’s happening?” Lucas asked, now panicking more than ever, his usual calculating demeanor temporarily going right out the proverbial window. Not sure what was happening myself, I could feel my heartbeat begin to increase as well. “No, no!” our dad tried to retract, our mom slightly giving him the stink eye as well over his grievous error. “It’s just one thing of many that they use the alarm for… I’m sure that everything is alright and that we’ll be perfectly safe here in our…” Before I could step in to bail the poor guy out, the TV screen flashed a few times and switched to a large group of people huddled around a podium at the front of the room with the presidential seal clearly displayed on the front. A large balding man then stepped up to the microphone and began to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, twenty minutes ago, the president announced he was declaring a national emergency. A domestic terrorist group, known simply as ’87, named for the year the constitution was written, stole and threatened the release of a potentially dangerous virus this morning. I regret to inform you that they have now acted and have begun releasing this virus across the nation in a series of unprovoked and unwarranted attacks. Shortly, the president will address the nation. For now, we encourage the public, especially in or near city centers, to stay inside.” I watched my family react to the unfolding events in various ways. My dad was as stoic as ever, having worked for the government for years, yet I could still see the ounce of fear behind his focused eyes that now replaced his previous one of panic. Conversely, Lucas was panicking even more now in his own unique way that he had picked up back in middle school. Small, twitchy finger movements and darting eyes made him appear to be calculating the net worth of everyone on the planet and every possible outcome ever conceived, but I knew he was just trying to rationalize inside his own head about what was going on. Our mom seemed frightened and shocked, and limply held her right hand over her mouth, as if about to muffle a scream. Having sat her down during the announcement, her left hand tightened around Amanda’s, which to her credit and without the alarm anymore, seemed the calmest of everyone. I suppose it’s true that ignorance is bliss… Looking back at the screen, it first noted that the president would soon be on to address the nation and secondly that ‘We ask the nation to remain calm, as your government tries to prevent or, in some cases, respond to these attacks. More information will be broadcasted to your local news stations as to what you should do now and if there are any further effects or attacks you need to be aware of.’ The screen beeped along for about another minute but then flashed again and switched to a local news channel where a nervous looking anchorman and woman were perched behind a desk. “That was just the Secretary of Health, joined by members of the FBI, CDC, and NIH. To reiterate, the president has now declared a national emergency and will address the nation within the next few hours. God help us all…” As opposed to my nervous family, I simply sat in my recliner chair and numbly thought about all the implications of what I was now seeing. I thought about Molly, all tucked away in her mountain retreat taking photos of birds or models or whatever else the magazine she worked for wanted. Not being outdoorsy in the least, I teased her that she would never last up there in the mountains, but now, she was seeming like the safer one of the two of us now. Looking back up from my thoughts, my family each stood in stunned silence. There had been some outbreaks and terrorist attacks in recent years, so some of the news felt familiar, but looking back to the TV, I knew that something about all this was just different this time. The news anchors around here had always seemed steadfast or sometimes even saddened, but never truly panicked. Despite such a human response, it was unsettling to see them fumbling through the papers in their hands, as they continued to break the story as it unfolded. One by one, more cities were now listed amongst those attacked. “Oh god… Houston now as well,” the anchorwoman said, reading the prompter and occasional pressing her fingers to the earpiece feeding her live updates. Having transferred from there last year, I could just make out the tears forming in her eyes… likely thinking of all her old coworkers now being affected by whatever was happening to these affected cities. “It will be okay, Sally,” the anchorman said, clearly trying to calm his coworker down. “Just focus on the news and…” It was now his turn to press the earpiece further to listen to the next update. “This just in… government authorities are now considering placing the entire country under Martial Law until this crisis is resolved and the perpetrators are taken into custody. There seems to be some kind of interference and loss of signal wherever these terrorist devices are going off… but we’ll bring you every update that we can. For now, we ask that you please do not provoke the authorities and remain in your homes…” Suddenly, a flash of orange burst outside, contrasting heavily against the pale blue sky. The TV still ran, but now panicking and likely fearing the worst, my dad went into survival mode. “Quickly! Get down and cover your heads!” Everyone ducked and took cover… well, everyone except me. Stupid, maybe… but I loved war movies. My dad introduced to them me when I was far too young, at least according to my mom, but nuclear bombs were commonplace in several of them. As such, I knew that they released an EMP… which meant no electricity, and no TV. Now seeing a positively ghostly figure of both anchors, their lights flickered briefly on the screen, but the program remained on. “Pete!” my mom screeched, temporarily looking up from her own cover to make sure that the rest of her family was safe. “Get down!” I shook my head. “It’s okay, mom. It’s not a nuclear bomb or anything. The TV would have gone off.” I then gestured to the screen, still brightly lit. “See?” My dad, getting up after placing his own body over my mom and Amanda, looked up as well. His instincts were more of fight or flight but looking around and seeing none of the disruptions I was insisting about, relief washed over his face. “He’s right, Karen. There would’ve been more if it was a bomb like that.” Helping both her and my sister up before Lucas, I could still sense his caution though. “Then what did we just see, Gregg?” she asked, her panic still hanging around her densely. “What was that flash? If it wasn’t a nuclear bomb going off then wha…?” She didn’t get to finish her question. Before she could, the house shook terribly, like it was being hit by some kind of vibrational wave. Harkening back to those war movies, it usually only meant one thing when accompanied by a flash. Maybe not nuclear, but there had been an explosion of some kind. “What was that?” my mom asked, her panic increasing even more now as she clung to my sister. For her part, Amanda was now clinging tightly back. Lucas just looked stunned and confused. “I don’t know,” my dad admitted. “Just stay inside and don’t panic or an…” Right then, loud machines began to echo from the outside and I couldn’t even hear more of what the anchors were saying anymore. Picture frames and vases began to tremble from whatever was happening outside. It was hard to miss and everyone, even my sister now, was looking to the front bay window looking out toward the street where we had initially seen the orange flash. With the recent growths in the trees though, the downtown area beyond and most of the sky could just be made out. Dust of some kind seemed to be swirling around the whole area, but I couldn’t make it out further. So, curiosity getting the better of me, I bolted to the front door. “Peter!” my mom shouted out to me, now using my full first name. Serious, but if I lived here still, I knew it meant I was only flirting with danger and a possible punishment. “Get back here this instant. They said not to go outside still!” I heard her, but it was too late for me to turn back now. I was too curious by then and the fluttering and rumbling all about the living room wasn’t helping either. My hand already at the doorknob, I simply twisted, pushed, and then exited the red-painted front door of my childhood home. What I saw, I guess I should have expected from the news, but I was still unprepared for it. I was immediately greeted by dozens of scurrying soldiers being offloaded by a parade of trucks and even a single Humvee driving up our street as well. Our house and neighborhood being perched on a large hill that overlooked much of the city and corresponding valley suburbs around it, I was finally able to get a good view of the whole situation. Normally, it was the perfect place for sunsets and to watch the storms roll in, but now, it gave only an ungodly view of the thundering group of helicopters and jets flying by and then surrounding several of the visible homes and nearby skyscrapers downtown. It appeared like every end scene of the world or wartime invasion film I had ever watched. Worse though, it reminded me too much of some of the conflicts that Molly had taken pictures of overseas and showed me afterward. But those places were at war… ‘Were we at war now as well?’ I wasn’t sure, but a few of the military leaders barking out orders to their men quickly took my mind off it. Knowing Molly would never forgive me if I didn’t capture at least a little of the action, I pulled out my smartphone and took a few pictures of everything unfolding around me. After snapping a few choice shots, I noticed the soldiers seemed distracted, and the loud humming and rumblings of the tanks and nearby helicopters drowned out any other sounds around me. My curiosity only intensifying, I stepped off the front porch and began walking towards the soldiers to ask what was going on. Each soldier was staring at downtown and toward one of local mountain ranges nearby. I hiked there several weekends during my time off and never could get enough of the views from one of the observation towers they had added up there in the 1930s. Now, I had to imagine the view was quite different. Right as I got up to them though, they all began to move out. Now invested and even more curious, I continued walking with the soldiers until I got to the end of the block. They seemed far too distracted to notice me, but as soon as the column stopped, another group of soldiers finally spotted me and began shouting. “Get him! Get him back inside now!” Realizing I had made a huge mistake of even coming out here, I raised my hands and tried to quickly walk backwards and back to my parents’ house. I started to move even faster when they started pointing their guns at me. I guess that wasn’t even fast enough, as soon, a sergeant broke off and pointed at me in annoyance. “You! Get back inside now. Don’t you know there’s a national emergency in effect right now? Or that Martial Law is going to be called into play any second now? Don’t you know what’s happened today?” Weighing my options, I decided to play dumb. Martial Law had never been put into effect during my lifetime around here, so it was at least somewhat plausible, even though I knew that it had meant to stay indoors as just one of its stipulations. “I heard that, but I’m not sure what it is or what I should even do. Do you know?” The sergeant groaned and then pointed his weapon back up the hill from where I had just come from. “It means get back inside now and not asking any more questions. Got it?” “Yes, sir!” From my dad’s experience and stories with them in his old job, I knew to not mess with any soldiers when they were on a mission or given direct orders. Giving them signs of respect or following their commands may have cut my investigation short and I could miss out on some extra photos of history in the making, but I wasn’t stupid. Seeing even their panic, I knew this was not the time to argue. “I’m going back home right…” “There’s another! There’s another!” a solider shouted. “Look!” Another flash of orange lit up the sky, but now being outside and away from some of the trees, I was seeing everything in real time now. A large, thunderous concussive explosion then went off and both the sergeant and I looked to the source of it. Due to my neighborhood’s perfect positioning up on the hill in the suburbs yet still being close enough to the city, it took only a few seconds for us to spot a second, but this time, much larger plume of orange smoke quickly covering the whole downtown area now. It swirled and puffed around the glass and steel giants and seemed to emanate from one of the taller buildings we could still see from here. By the second it seemed though, the whole of the city seemed to be swallowed up in this strange new mist. Looking back over, the sergeant looked panicked for a moment of sheer terror, but as the orange mist began to swirl and then cascade with the wind right toward us, he seemed to come to his senses. “Gas! Gas!” he yelled while simultaneously uncasing a gas mask from on his person around his belt. The nearby soldiers I had been following previously began furiously tearing out their own gas masks from hanging bags on their gear. It was tremendous commotion, but within a minute, each soldier had been masked and gowned to the point where not a single centimeter of their skin was showing. I stood there dumbstruck but realizing what I was witnessing, I managed to capture a few shots of them in the chaos, not wanting to miss this opportunity. But the sergeant, now gowned and masked as well, saw me still standing in the street and marched right over to me. “You! Get out of here. Now! Run as fast as you can into your home! Go while you still can!” I quickly deduced from his panic and the soldiers’ suits and masks that they knew more than the general public. Further, what they knew seemed to imply that whatever the orange mist was, was also likely deadly or hazardous in some way that I didn’t want to find out. Remembering back, the news did state that the ’87 group had stolen some kind of ‘dangerous virus,’ but only the depths of my late-night horror movie watching binges could comprehend or imagine what that meant precisely. Snapped out of my curiosity and reverting to sheer panic now, I began to turn to head home. Seconds and only a couple of steps later though, the spring breezes picked up and I smelled something almost sweet. Citrus maybe… I wasn’t sure, but I had to see where it was coming from. Turning around, to my horror, a large dust cloud of a reddish and orange hue lingered in the air only blocks away now. Seeing the giant cloud forming, the sergeant turned back to me. “Run! Run!” he called out to me again, this time the panic thick in his slightly muffled voice from the gas mask he now wore. Finally understanding the seriousness of it all, I panicked and tried to run as fast as I could, but luck was not on my side today it seemed. After only a few paces, I tripped on a piece of uneven sidewalk and fell face first onto the pavement. Before I had a moment to think, I was being pulled up by an unknown force. I could only hope that I wasn’t totally screwed now, but I soon began to see small whisps of the gas starting to creep around me like long tentacles from a monstrous kraken of some kind. It seemed to spell my doom, though I was pleasantly surprised that once it touched my skin, I felt no pain. No blisters or even a sting of any kind. It only seemed to almost be magnetized to my skin and even a tingle, but a shake from whoever pulled me up, knocked my fascination away. “You! You idiot!” the sergeant yelled, keeping my limp body aloft still. “This is why we said to stay indoors! The ’87 group planted multiple devices beforehand and another one just went off!” I knew he was right, but I was grateful that he at least still seemed to care for my well-being, despite my massive idiotic curiosity. His kindness, or at least decency showed further when he even handed me a mask. I immediately put it on, though I noticed the orange mist still followed and curled around my arms and a tiny trickle of blood now remained on my hands. I only saw both events for a moment, but it was still enough for me to panic. “Which one?” he asked gruffly as we finally reached the top of the hill. I pointed ahead to my parents’ home, where I then noticed two figures with cloths over their mouths were frantically running around and yelling. What’s more… they were yelling my name. The mist hadn’t touched them yet, but it was getting close and seemed to follow close behind us now, seemingly having difficulty making the climb up the hill. “Pete!” the woman yelled, who after running closer, I recognized as my mom. “Is he yours?” the sergeant asked, almost seeming disgusted as he gestured toward me. “Yes” my mom answered. “Thank you so much, sergeant.” My dad working for the government over the years had introduced my mom to several military men and women and she quickly made it a task for herself to memorize all the insignia and ranks in all the branches of service. “Just doing my job ma’am. But now… get inside. All of you!” My dad jogged up and joined us before pulling my mom and I back up to the porch. Looking back briefly, I wondered if the sergeant knew something more about this gas than he wasn’t letting on. Looking at my arm, it had touched me and yet I wasn’t blistered or even burned, but at the same time, every facet of the sergeant and his tone seemed to imply the inherent danger of the gas still. “Go inside, now! Take a shower immediately. Stay indoors and wait for further instructions. Hurry!” My mom and dad gripped my arms and guided me quickly inside. I momentarily felt faint, but the sensation passed once I was safely inside, and the door slammed shut. “Geez, Pete,” my dad said with annoyance once we were firmly indoors and with the door shut. Nearby, Lucas was huddled on the couch with Amanda wrapped tightly in his arms. “You just had to go outside and… let me guess. You just had to satisfy your curiosity… again, right?” Knowing he was probably thinking back to that one trip to the aquarium where I nearly fell into the tank of sharks when I was too curious then, like he always did, I once again just nodded sheepishly while I took off the mask the sergeant had given me. Despite the reason why I even had to wear a mask, it was nice to breathe in the air inside again, especially now that the mist had reached outside of our house. Curiously though, I noticed that the blood that had previously been on my face from my fall, had now vanished. “Hard to miss the event of the decade,” I replied casually. “I mean, you’re probably going to remember this day forever. Right, Lucas?” Lucas rolled his eyes and turned away from the TV briefly. “Sure, whatever, Pete. You put yourself and our parents at risk while I stayed here. Look, I can even still be informed inside and even know more than you do.” He then gestured toward the T.V., which was still blaring a ‘Breaking News!’ alert across the ribbon at the bottom of the screen. Further, new photographs and shaky camera footage was now being shown of the orange mist in several cities across the country. One by one, it seemed that somehow, most major population centers had been hit by the orange bombs and gas. “We’re not fully sure what this orange mist is,” the anchorman admitted, “but we are being informed by direct communication with the government that all citizens should avoid contact as much as possible. While not deadly, government officials have noted that the substance can be both ‘toxic’ and ‘hazardous.’” “That’s right,” the anchorwoman continued. “We have been informed that though the gas being released is not harmful to the skin, there are yet unidentified long-term effects which may occur soon after contact. If coming into contact at all, we recommend an immediate shower.” “I just hope these masks worked at least a little bit,” my dad said, removing his medical grade mask covering. He had bought it when his work took him to China last year and they were experiencing some type of mass outbreak of the flu. My mom had insisted, and my dad put up no resistance to her demands; none of us ever really did. “I hope so, Gregg,” my mom wished as she pulled her mask off as well. Sighing deeply, I saw Amanda quickly take notice of our mom’s distress. “You okay, mommy?” she asked, now pulling away from Lucas and gazing up at our mom in both fear and curiosity. Clearly worried and maybe even a little exhausted, our mom smiled down sweetly at her. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just had to go get your brother. Speaking of which…” my mom then almost snapped to now face me head on. “I’m pretty sure that sergeant outside and even the new anchor said to go shower once we were inside. So, you better hurry it up and go shower immediately, Peter Crichton… or else.” ‘Oops. I’m in trouble now…’ Not my full name quite yet, but full first and last name wasn’t a good sign either couple with the tiny threat of ‘or else’ as well. I was in her crosshairs now, so not wanting to add to her stress further today, I merely saluted and ran off to go shower as ordered. The hot water and intense scrubbing felt nice, but my mind still swirled around what the orange mist even was. Regardless, utilizing the clothes I kept here in my ‘just in case’ bag, I was quickly redressed and joined my now huddled family on the couch. With my dad now in the master bathroom showering, leaving Lucas in his usual spot and my freshly showered mom as well sitting on the couch with Amanda napping beside her. Soldiers still occasionally walked the streets outside clad in their biohazard suits and masks, despite the orange mist having largely dissipated by now. If anything, though, helicopters only seemed to have increased their presence. Sighing at the whole scene and the unfolding news of panic all around the country, I sat back in the other single chair in the room and looked over at my family. With Lucas’ pensive stare and my mom’s worried one, looking down, I couldn’t help but slightly envy my little sister. Despite her reliance on my parents and her lack of freedoms, I did wish I could enjoy just a small part of the same obliviousness that she obviously had. Without a doubt, the country had been attacked and streets that should have been filled with Sunday afternoon traffic, were now only littered with military force. For her though, sleep mattered more. Amanda, my dad, and I could sleep through anything, but I doubt I could simply fall asleep so soundly through all of what was going on like she was now. News footage was as grim as ever with residents of cities across the country panicking and getting blasted by the orange mists. A lot of them seemed kind of young, but I simply passed it off as unruly teenagers or people with curiosity like me ignoring the orders to stay indoors. ‘I really hope I don’t live to regret that decision…’ Suddenly, anchorman stopped the anchorwoman as he put his finger to his earpiece once more. “Yes… yes…” He removed his hand and first faced his co-anchor right as my dad walked back into the room, his hair still damp from his own shower. “Sorry, Sally… but I’ve just been informed that the president will now address the nation. We go to his office live now.” The TV switched to shot of the president of the country, sitting behind his desk in his office. The just graying figure looked at the camera with a grim but determined face. “My fellow countrymen… it is unknown what the long-term effects of this mist could be but rest assured that your government will offer the needed support and guidance in the coming days to overcome this historic but tragic day.” Practiced as ever, President Walker showed just enough emotion to show his humanity while coupled with just enough strength though to show that he wouldn’t take this attack lightly. “These are unprecedented times, and I have decided to declare Martial Law. So, for those not already, it is the policy of this nation now for all residents to remain in their homes for the remainder of the night. For those still in offices, stores, or other places than their homes, we encourage you to stay where you are. Military efforts are being utilized to move you safely to your destinations until the air has been deemed safe by CDC officials. I’m not sure what today will come to mean, but I as your president will be staying with you all throughout this ordeal. Thank you and I wish you all a sincere good night and good luck.” Sighing, and not knowing what the future would hold, I stood up and then walked over to the bay window. Peering out and viewing my watch, I saw that I would usually be going home in the next hour or so. Seeing the shrouded city bustling with helicopters still, however, I knew ‘usually’ wasn’t going to be a very common word for a while in any of our lives. Further, hearing the president declare Martial Law, I also knew I would be staying at my parents at least for tonight whether I wanted to or not. I hoped it wouldn’t be too long, but another soldier marching down the sidewalk made me think twice about that hope. “Hey mom?” Sighing, she looked back over at me. Not sure what else to do but hoping to end the day on at least one good note, I knew what I had to ask. “What kind of bird does the orchestra?” Smiling, she nodded right as Amanda stirred awake… almost like she was just as curious to hear the answer herself. “Well… it’s a conDUCKtor.” Normally, we might have all groaned, but tonight, each of us let out a tiny chuckle. For such a bleak afternoon, it was a tiny ray of light. Not sure what was next in all this mess, I knew those moments would become even more precious. I’m not sure why, but something told me that the orange mist released today, wouldn’t soon be gone out of our lives. 13 1
Operational Systems Posted January 24 Posted January 24 Welcome back! Sorry to hear the time off hasn't been that great for you, but you're right; being able to escape to writing always helps. Exciting chapter. There's a bit of nominative determinism with the Crichton / Andromeda Strain reference, which is also revealed with the mother full name yelling her naughty son as a foreshadow for things to come. This is the second or third time you've had a main character start with a P in their name, not sure if you recognized that as a habit in your writing.
LostBBoyBear Posted January 24 Author Posted January 24 9 hours ago, Operational Systems said: Welcome back! Sorry to hear the time off hasn't been that great for you, but you're right; being able to escape to writing always helps. Exciting chapter. There's a bit of nominative determinism with the Crichton / Andromeda Strain reference, which is also revealed with the mother full name yelling her naughty son as a foreshadow for things to come. This is the second or third time you've had a main character start with a P in their name, not sure if you recognized that as a habit in your writing. Lots of fun to come, so I'm glad you think it's exciting. As far as the name goes... I literally have so many stories, my list of names reads like the alphabet. Because of that, I didn't even think about a third P name being used here. Looking ahead though, I believe this should be the last P name ever as a main character in my stories (not including sequels to existing works, like the CON series).
fire07 Posted January 24 Posted January 24 Interesting start. Not to nitpick, but I do want to point out that it's "martial law" and not "Marshall Law".
LostBBoyBear Posted January 24 Author Posted January 24 3 minutes ago, fire07 said: Interesting start. Not to nitpick, but I do want to point out that it's "martial law" and not "Marshall Law". Thank you! I went by what a friend told me. I'll definitely be chewing them out for that one. Now, though, I've made the change, so thank you again!
Operational Systems Posted January 24 Posted January 24 2 hours ago, LostBBoyBear said: Lots of fun to come, so I'm glad you think it's exciting. As far as the name goes... I literally have so many stories, my list of names reads like the alphabet. Because of that, I didn't even think about a third P name being used here. Looking ahead though, I believe this should be the last P name ever as a main character in my stories (not including sequels to existing works, like the CON series). Don't stop on account of me I just thought it was because your name might start with a p as an accidental author insert. Lol! Do you really have over 25 stories? Where are you hiding these other ones?
LostBBoyBear Posted January 27 Author Posted January 27 Hey everyone! Even with my busy weekend, I just managed to finish this story under the wire. I’m hoping that with some of the next chapters already largely written out or at least mapped out, I can move through them pretty quickly. I want to post another chapter tomorrow, but at minimum, another should be posted by Tuesday at the latest. Looking ahead, as I announced in my previous story, I like moving to other story topics, but it’s now been several months since I touched the Diaper Dimension. As such, all three options for the next story will be set there. I think there’s a pretty good variety here, so choose which you all would prefer, which can be found at the following link: https://strawpoll.com/ajnE16aXAnW. As usual, I will give you all until the final chapter to vote and will post reminders to do so during each of these following chapters. When we get closer to the final chapter, I will remind everyone of the closing poll date, but until then, feel free to use the link to the poll from above, leave a comment on this story thread, or personal message me. I will account for each of these responses in my final tally. So, all that being said, here are the ideas for my next story: Bethany’s Story (Semi-Sequel to The Opening) Set as a semi-sequel to The Opening, follow former drug runner, Bethany, as she strives to find herself a better life that has been promised in the newly discovered dimension, tentatively called, ‘The Amazon Dimension,’ though some have begun calling it another name due to the ever-increasing rumors of something awaiting all portal Littles on the other side. Join Bethany as she looks to turn her life around there and maybe even find a redemption of sorts and something else in the most unexpected of ways. Watch out though, in this new world, new and even greater dangers than the ones she left lurk around every corner. A Conspiracy in Peirama Shown as both a prequel and a sequel to Project Nurture, follow Ashley as she comes over to the DD from her job as an investigative journalist from Earth. What starts out as a simple paid retreat for her news company soon evolves into the story of her life. Already suspicious of why so many seem to stay in this dimension, Ashley quickly switches into her investigative reporter self to find the truth when she begins to notice several oddities that simply can’t be passed off. The only problem though… her curiosity gets the best of her, and she soon finds herself the Little of a seemingly friendly couple in some strange town out west. Determined still with her story, follow Ashley as she investigates this strange place from the inside, and witness her discovery of the truth or if there is such as a thing as going too far for the pursuit of a story. The CONtinuance As the concluding story in the CON series set in the often-dreaded Diaper Dimension, travel back to our world with Percy and his Big mommy, Samantha, as they now infiltrate the convention that Percy once attended and was initially taken from. Grapple with Percy as he works feverishly to fulfill his duty to the academy while also not trying to become the monster that he once thought that Samantha was. Unfortunately, with every Little Percy meets, he sees himself in them and can’t bring himself to fulfill his end of the bargain. Unraveling this and trying to right this by any means necessary, intrigue, betrayal, conspiracy, traitors, and a plot to change the fabric of both worlds forever all unfold in this final story of this trilogy. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 2: Six Months Later… “We now bring you an update on the six-month anniversary of what’s been come to be known as Orange Day, or more commonly… baby day!” As I sat back on my parents’ couch, once again coming over for Sunday dinner, I could only groan at the news unfolding before me. ‘Six months…’ I couldn’t believe it. The ‘long-term effects’ everyone had been talking and warning about on that first day were readily apparent… one only had to look at my parents to see that. “Gregg! Not in front of guests or the kids!” my mom shrieked from the kitchen as my dad playfully tapped her on the butt. “Remember?” Since the mist, the masks had helped them a little bit, but they were still experiencing the effects of the age regression virus that spawned from what was released. Yes, that’s right… age regression virus. It was why all the news blackouts had occurred after a release of the orange mists by the terrorist group, ’87. It was why the military was prepared and so cautious with their usage of gas masks. It was why the cut I received on my face after running and then falling to get to safety had healed so quickly. It was why my parents now looked like they were in their early 30’s at most… maybe even 20s. In less than a week, they shed off 20 years like a snake removing its old, withered skin. “Don’t worry so much, honey…” my dad said back, now running his hands up her arms and toward her face. My mom did little to stop his efforts as he moved in for a kiss. I tried desperately to focus back on the news story. T121BZ9, aka the original orange gas, was a mutagen that was supposed to break down the cellular structure and attack DNA strands by breaking the chains of the amino acids. Outside of the lab though, the parameters changed, and the virus became unstable. It manifested itself in numerous ways and the country braced for millions to die. Only they didn’t… In fact, it was quite the opposite. About 30% of the population, or nearly 100 million people had been affected on some level. Considering all the population centers hit and the prevailing winds across the country that day, that number could have easily been doubled if it also wasn’t for the efforts of agencies preventing the release of at least half of the explosive devices and another five at least malfunctioning. “Oh, babe… careful!” my mom giggled as my dad began to kiss her neck passionately. “We don’t want another kid… do we?” I tried to ignore them about as much as possible when they were like this, their youthful hormones surging once again making this common occurrence now. Today, though, her question once again received a laugh by both, but I also got the sense that a tiny portion of them wouldn’t mind it either. After all, Amanda seemed positively thrilled with the virus’ effects on our parents. “A baby brother?” Amanda squealed, overhearing the two from her spot at the kitchen table where she was furious coloring her unicorn coloring books. “Oh please?” Turning my head back to face the two, I could see both actually consider the proposal for a second, but my dad then shook his head. “No… I think we’re good at just you three. Besides… another baby mean we would have to take our attention away from… our little princess!” Springing to action with the energy I remembered from my own childhood, our dad lunged right into a tickle attack under Amanda’s armpits. Laughter echoed throughout the whole house. “Daddy! Stahp it!” Her words were clear, but when she didn’t fight back and even seemed to enjoy the extra attention, our dad just refreshed his playful attacks. Turning back around, I couldn’t help but smile for the good fortune of my little sister. Being a late addition to the family, she had so far been raised by two people in their late 40s and previously early 50s. Taking breaks in the middle of playtimes became common and sprinting around the yard after her for tag or just general fun became quite the challenge. Now… after the initial shock and confusion wore off, she was beyond happy over their newfound energy stores. Sadly, as the news pointed out yet again, not everyone was so lucky. “Six months in, we count our losses. Though no deaths have been reported, and we here at CNDC news channel consider that a minor blessing, millions have been affected and forever changed by this outbreak.” Looking at the screen, the same two anchors announced the news, but a leak in their ventilation system doused the whole building. Rounding out in their late teens and early 20s now, they still were among the more fortunate. “Yvette Sanderson was once a teacher of third grade. In her 30-year career, she had been nominated for teacher of the year several times and was even awarded it twice. Now, she finds herself at a much different school.” The image flashed to show the preschool of the new institute set up by the government to attend to the regressed victims. As per usual now, an image of her 50-year-old self was now paired with her new self… a five-year-old girl, complete even with tiny plastic barrettes in her no longer graying hair. “Like many, she now finds herself in a new world that she finds very familiar but has to learn all over again.” In a clear question and interview set up, Yvette noted several things about her new life. While a few missing teeth made it hard to understand her occasionally, a clear picture began to take shape of her new life. The playgrounds and her bear, Mr. Fuzzles, were amazing… eating her vegetables and scraping her knee were not. Sadly, as other news stories began to be exhibited, she wasn’t the worst… not by a long shot. Thinking to my own life, my parents’ neighbor, Mrs. Greely, had so far regressed to a 16-year-old and crashed her car last week into a telephone pole on her way back from work. Her husband, Mr. Greely, had taken away her keys after that and now drove her everywhere until she could retake the driving test… if she was even allowed. The last time I saw her; she was going to a nearby institute and was bragging about how she braided her hair. It was all relatively minor still, especially considering a recent report of soaring diaper sales, but she expressed the same fear of all those regressed to under 18… being treated as their new biological age. “Like Yvette, Adam, and Narmeen, 60% of cases have dropped below 18 years old. While institutes have been set up to accommodate and evaluate the new mental capacity of these victims, the rest of us can only wait to see about the further effects of Orange Day.” The two then droned on like that for a little while after. Getting a bit bored, I switched over to one of the movie channels. It wasn’t a problem until I heard the tiny patter of feet reenter the scene. “Pete…” my dad said in his all too familiar disapproving tone. At this point, he didn’t even need to say why this time. With the news either depressing or boring, I was leaning more on my favorite war movies in the past few months. This wasn’t the first time he had gotten into me about my selection in entertainment. Still, I wanted to play it dumbly. “What? What did I do now?” I asked plainly, turning around to look at him while simultaneously also trying to pass off my actions as purely innocent, despite knowing which recent arrival had caused him to suddenly speak up. My dad sighed. “You know very well what. Please turn the channel to something with a little less…” His gaze briefly looked down and I knew exactly who he was looking at. “Uh… B-U-L-L-E-T-S. Or at least try to when your S-I-S-T-E-R is in the room, okay?” “And something with less B-L-O-O-D in it as well,” my mom then chirped in as she reentered the room now as well. I outwardly groaned. “Fine!” I grumbled a little and changed the channel, trying to land on anything more… kid friendly. As I was switching though, the news popped back on briefly. “…you, Stacy. Next! New facilities have been set up all around the country to help ARs, or age regressors, cope and transition into their new lives. Debate has been fierce over these centers and their effects on the Ars. Some believe they force younger ideals into capable minds, while others believe it may be too dangerous for these ARs to cope in the world around them. This initiative comes as part of the governmental oversight committee, A…” “Pete…” my dad said disapprovingly once more. “What?” I asked, turning back around to face my dad and his objections once more. This time, I wasn’t sure what I was doing wrong. “It’s just the news, Dad. What’s so bad about all that. Surely, you don’t object to me watching that as well now, right?” “No, no, but…” He sighed heavily and briefly scratched his head, now completely devoid of gray hair and coming in much thicker now. “It’s just… they’re saying the same thing they did two months ago when those institutes or schools or whatever they are, first popped up. It’s getting a little old to hear over and over again. I mean… did you know there’s even one near us now too?” I shook my head. “Convenient, but also… maybe they’re needed and still a relevant news story? I can’t imagine growing younger would be easy for anyone involved. Can you even picture what it would be like to forget who you were as you regressed?” “Right…” he said skeptically. “Like all of the memories just slipped out with the waste of the shed years, huh? Look at your mom and me. In our thirties now, but I still remember everything from when I was 50. I’m still me… just younger, right? No loss in my memory.” “That’s true,” I admitted. “But maybe it’s different for others… After all, you two aren’t stuck in preschool. It could be different when you dip below a certain age. I mean, I have this one coworker who…” “Petey! Petey!” Amanda ran into the room clad in her swirly pink and purple PJs; her hair still wet from her recent bath. “Read to me, pwease?” She stood on her tiptoes as she shoved a book into my lap and gave me the deepest and most pitiful expression I had ever seen. She knew I was powerless to say no to her, but I knew it was getting late, and I had work tomorrow. Observing our exchange, my mom then jutted in. “She insisted on her older brother reading to her before bed. She refused to get under the covers otherwise.” I groaned, albeit playfully, and nodded my head while raising my arms a little in the air. “Okay, okay. I surrender, you little rascal. Scooch on back up to bed and I’ll join you in a second.” Giving me a quick hug and a toothy smile, she then ran away per our deal. Getting up, my mom smiled and reached out to rub my shoulder. “Thank you, Pete. You’re a good big brother to her.” I could only grimly smile back at her as I trudged up the stairs. I was hoping to talk to my parents alone after Amanda went down about a few events coming up, but I knew being the youngest, Amanda’s needs took priority over a few clarifying questions that could always just be answered over text messages tomorrow. So, entering her room upstairs, we both settled into her painted white bed. Snuggling up against me, I knew she was ready to listen, so I opened the book and began reading to her, her purple flower sheets encapsulating her tired form almost completely. Amanda loved princesses and ballerinas and unicorns as much as anyone, but anything outdoorsy always took top prize for her. Horses over puppies, overalls over dresses, gardening over makeovers. It’s who she was, and the family did what we could to encourage her likes. Entranced over the lonely duck in a faraway kingdom, Amanda was unusually pretty quiet. After two pages, however, she stopped me cold. “Why’s A-R-V bad, Petey? Mommy an’ Daddy won’ tell me.” Our mom and dad were pretty protective of her, especially with all the news lately, but Amanda was neither dumb nor ignorant. She knew something was happening around her, but still… I wasn’t sure how to answer her about why the age regression virus was bad. So, opting for my older brother’s privilege, I just tried to tell her the truth without directly saying that being young was outright a bad thing. “Well, it regresses…” Amanda’s confusion was already palpable. “Uh… makes you younger, and some people don’t like that.” Amanda’s brow wrinkled and I could see that she was confused by that notion. “But… bein’ young is fun though! Mommy and Daddy like it, right?” I sighed and nodded. “They do, but not everyone is the same with ARV.” I could tell she still wasn’t getting it though, so I decided to go about it another way. “How about this… what if you went backwards and got younger yourself? Think of all the new stuff that you wouldn’t get to do anymore because you weren’t able to.” It was a stumper for Amanda, but from her tiny smile, I knew she had a counterpoint to make. “But bein’ younger means I would get more sweets, an’ I would get more of what I want. I always got more toys when I was younger. Iss jus’ not the same anymore! Mommy even wants to send me to preschool in a few weeks! How is that any fun? Bein’ young is great!” Ever since she could grasp the concept of arguing, the family knew she was almost destined to become a lawyer one day. Still, I had to try to argue my own point. “Well, that’s a good point. But what about diapers?” Amanda’s smile quickly went away. Though potty training her wasn’t fun, she was now at the age where ‘only babies wore diapers,’ and there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t insist that she was now a ‘big girl.’ “I don’t think you would want that, right?” “I’m a big girl, though!” she protested, missing my point a little bit. “I could do it.” “You are a big girl, Amanda,” I conceded, “but it wouldn’t take much for you to be like that again. Mom and Dad regressed a lot and are fine, but it would only take you going backwards by one or two years to go back to being a baby.” Amanda blushed. “But I’m a big girl…” she said in more of a whisper this time, almost as if I had just shaken that belief in herself. Looking at her carefully in case she needed a further hug or a cuddle to feel better, I saw that she seemed to be thinking of something far off. I soon found out what. “I don’ think I want to be younger, Petey.” “Mom and Dad will be glad to hear that, but I am too, sis. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.” Amanda smiled and gave me a little hug from the side. I hugged her back and continued the story, satisfied I had quashed her notions of wanting to become young again. It was an interesting notion, but I couldn’t wrestle with the whole idea that someone would ever want to go through acne and voice cracking at minimum again. The thick pages of the book turned one by one, and I could feel Amanda’s form slowly slump deeper into my side. I only stopped reading when her little snores and mumbles started to break up my words. Smiling, I tucked her in tighter under her sheets, made sure her nightlight was on, and crept out of the room before slowly closing the door. My mom, seemingly waiting for us to finish, was outside and smiling at me. “You’re a natural, you know? You and Molly ever…?” “Stop.” Molly and I were good, but kids still felt a long way off for us. “I like reading, and Amanda likes me reading to her before bed. It’s a win-win. Nothing more.” My mom seemed less convinced. “Tell yourself that all you want, but someday… you’re going to make a great dad. I’ve seen you… you just connect so well with kids in general and even those around the neighborhood.” “Woah,” I put my hands up in front of me to emphasize my point, now walking away from Amanda’s room and through the upstairs hallway. “Thanks for the compliment, but ease up there, grandma.” She glared at me over my little jab at her, still not comfortable to any reference of her being ‘old,’ despite likely being in her late 20s once again. “Ages and timelines for some may be a bit whacky, but there’s some steps to go before all that, you know?” Getting to the top of the stairs, my mom just coyly smiled at me. “Yes, but… in time…” “Whatever you say, mom…” I then excused myself and went to the bathroom I had previously used to shower in after the orange mist had hit. After, I then used it while staying in my old bedroom for the few days after while we waited for Martial Law to end. Now, it was back to being the house’s main guest room. I did my business and readjusted my clothing. I had gained some weight after getting back last year, but that now seemed to be dissipating. I grinned over my progress from my swimming and aerobics class three times a week. With newfound energy, I had never felt better in the past few weeks. I had taken up swimming again and was really feeling the renewed energy everyone always talks about after sticking with an exercise program for long enough. It was a perfect way to distract myself from the reality of dozens of people in my life who were now significantly younger… most under the age of 18. Speaking of which, the next day I filed my last bit of paperwork into the company’s online server and repository at work. Today had been filled with at least three departures and now, my manager was pressing on me even further to get the new paperwork done for the new contract we were trying to bid for and win. Overtime and a possible bonus for me hung in the balance. With most regression cases simmering to only a dozen or so a day now, the ‘normal’ routine of everyday life was scarping through to start inching on by. It was tough work at first, but the company had found its rhythm once again. Additionally, and fortunately for us, the government had never had so many contracts to fill. Of course, several were to support the new influx of regressed patients, and the computer needs to categorize, sort, assist, or even help them in their new complicated lives, but a contract was a contract and work was work. I was just grateful I still had a job and wasn’t one of the poor sobs who couldn’t work anymore because they had caught the virus and legally weren’t allowed to anymore. “Hey Pete!” It was Todd, one of my other coworkers who had been spared. The office gossip circulated all around him, and learning from my coworkers, I usually was pleasant around him but made sure to keep my guard up as well… just in case he was snooping. “Packing up already?” “Yeah, Todd. Five o’clock on the dot. This company’s not paying me overtime… not for writing these proposals anyways right now with how everything is.” I paused and made sure my computer was already in the process of shutting down. “You headed out soon?” “Yep! Gotta a poker match to win with my buddies.” He then paused and briefly looked left and then right before centering back on me and leaning in. “You hear about Sandra?” I nodded. “Yeah… shame…” She had worked in HR for years and had just recently hit into her teens. She might have had another week or so before child labor laws or something of the sort kicked in, but she screwed up one account and her own colleagues felt it was best she just ended her time at the company now. “I’ll say! Whole lot of us could have gotten stiffed on our paychecks because of her!” Clearly, our definitions of something being ‘a shame’ were very different. “Yeah… I guess…” My computer screen finally went black. Relieved that I could officially leave, I stood up to stuff my laptop in my work bag to go home. If I left now, I just had enough time to... “So… Molly coming back already from Paris?” he asked inquisitively, clearly sniffing out for any fresh gossip about our relationship in particular. “She didn’t find some other guy in Paris, did she?” I wanted to spit in the man’s face for even suggesting such a thing, but I just shook my head at first. “No, Todd. She’s coming back today. In fact…” I quickly flexed my arm out and back in again to view my watch better and without my sleeve interfering in my view. “Yep! Thought so. She should be giving me a call anytime soon now. So, I gotta…” “Oh! Pay me no mind!” Todd started to back away, feigning his apologies for delaying my departure and seeing her again. This time it was only a three-day trip, but I still wanted to see her… at least infinitely more than I wanted to lag around the office with Todd any more than I had already. With Todd in full retreat now though, I ensured I had everything to work from home tomorrow, still adopting a hybrid work schedule. Satisfied, I shouldered my bag and began to leave my office cubicle. “Oh, Pete?” Todd snapped back. Trying not to outwardly groan, I shuffled my bag on my shoulder once more and looked back at my coworker. “Yes, Todd?” “Have you switched shampoos or something lately?” His question seemingly coming out of the blue, and no doubt seeing my quizzical face, Todd regrouped. “It’s just… your hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it thicker or healthier since you started working here. What’s your secret?” Todd, absent mindedly or not, then combed his fingers through his own hair, almost wincing at the two large balding patches at his temple. “Just exercise, Todd.” I walked a few feet away from my cubicle, hoping Todd would take a hint and just leave me alone so I could go see Molly for our planned date night. “Nothing more… but thanks…” Not giving him a second more to delay me, I nearly bolted for the elevators. “No problem…” Passing by him, Todd then gave me a smirk. It felt odd and almost out of place for a guy like him, but I just kept going. “Have a good day, Pete.” “Yeah… Todd. You too…” I was already pushing the elevator button and Todd was out of sight. Relieved, I sighed heavily and felt even more elated when the elevator door dinged, signaling it had made its way to our level on the 12th floor. Stepping on, I could feel the burden of work slip away from me and a smile begin to take hold of my face. My smile was not misplaced. Two years younger than me, Molly was a rising star in the photography world. Known for her fashion and nature shoots already, her natural talent and a little help from her well-connected uncle had pushed her far in the industry already. She had her eye on some of the more prominent magazines and newspapers of the country, and I often wondered how I fit into all that, but seeing her tonight, trimmed with her perfect blonde hair and now clad in a sheer red dress and done up all to perfection, I didn’t care. Tonight, I just felt like the luckiest guy in the world by now. “Well, hey there, handsome,” she greeted me warmly, reaching out for a tight hug as soon as I was within her grasp. Going in for a kiss before even saying hello, I let my lips do the talking first. From her tiny wilt, I knew I had made the right choice to be bold tonight. For some reason, maybe just the recent exercise, but I was feeling more passionate than I had in a long time. I was no slouch in the romance department, but tonight… I was feeling the heat. “Hello to you too,” I said about as causally and seductively as I could. Molly smiled and breathed out heavily. “Geesh, Pete. I guess I should go away more often, huh?” “No,” I quickly countered, hoping to play it cool still. “I mean… not so soon.” I smiled back at her uneasily. I had the passion down, but I really hated her frequent trips before Orange Day. Her trip to Paris was a bit of an omen to me, as the fashion show had been put off until global concerns about the virus spreading could be put to rest. With the public now feeling safe that the virus was mutating further and wasn’t airborne, the show had been rescheduled. With it out of the way now, several other shows would be taking place as well… not to mention her small local trips, like the one she had been on when the orange mist had hit initially. Molly gestured for me to sit but kept her smile going. I could tell she was glad to see me, but there was something behind her smile as well. “Pete… I know me leaving so often before wasn’t easy for you, but I need to for my career. You understand, right?” I sighed. “I do, Molly… I just wish it wasn’t so often.” I could see her face fall a little, and just wanting to celebrate tonight, I made sure to quickly add a caveat. “But please… do what you need to. As long as you come back to me, I’ll support whatever decision you make.” Again, I hated her to leave, but from my past relationships, I knew that if I held on too tight, that was just as bad as not holding on tight enough. It was a balancing act, but it was one I was hoping for us to pull off together. “Thank you, Pete.” Her relief was immediately palpable. “You have no idea how much it means for you to say that. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to waste the opportunities I’m getting out there either.” Her eyes then drifted around the room. “The whole country… even the world is on fire, Pete. If it’s not the virus, it’s war. If it’s not war, it’s a recession or just outright depression. If it’s not either, then there’s some kind of natural disaster waiting to hit at any moment. So, for someone like me, I can’t just sit by and not capture all those moments.” “No, I get it,” I said, spinning a half truth to her. I understood her, but my passion wasn’t photography. I liked it, but Molly loved it. “Remember, I went outside and took those photos of Orange Day. Stupid, maybe, but I just felt the calling that day. I didn’t want to miss out or forget about what happened… ever.” Molly momentarily nodded, but a nearby older toddler throwing their fork quickly pulled her away. “I will not eat that broccoli, Colleen!” For someone so young, their speech pattern was impeccable, but these days, no one was shocked. The young kid had gotten the virus and maybe his wife… mom… ‘Girlfriend?’ was now picking up the pieces, so to speak. “Yeah… I don’t think anyone is going to forget about Bab… Orange Day for a while.” We both smiled at the notion of such scenes being around still when we were 100 and in an assisted living place. “Still… thank you for those shots that you took. My editor still really loves the one with all the troops and the helicopter flying in the background to the downtown area. Very striking.” I had given my shots of the day to Molly once she got back, and she had immediately presented them to her editor. Some didn’t come out as nice as I wanted, but a few managed to make it into the magazine’s special edition section published a week after the mists had been released. I still had a copy back home. Still, dinner and drinks were all pleasant, even going so far as to finish off a good bottle of red wine between us. The occasional regression victim would enter the fray and momentarily distract us, but we began playing our game of playful seduction once more. We were together, there was no question about that, but after a few well-placed and knowing looks, hand rubs, and beckoning smiles, it was clear we both wanted more from our night together. So, paying for the meal, we both drove in our own cars back to my place. Living here in the city full-time, as opposed to Molly’s infrequent living situation, my apartment was more furnished, decorated, and critically, had a softer and yet sturdier bed. As such, for Molly, staying over had become commonplace in the month before Orange Day. With everything settling now, much to our delight, neither of us felt the need to break that particular practice. As soon as the door was shut, it was like we were in some passionate race with each other who could show more love or skill in kissing or tender stroking. Often, candles were part of our practiced dance of love, and there was almost always a lot of reassurance and communication between us. Tonight, being away from each other even for a few days, combined with my newfound energy and vigor in life, broke that usual dance more than a little bit. From the frantic removal of both our clothes, big smiles, and impassioned pants and moans, neither of us seemed to mind in the least. Deep into the night, both settled and thoroughly spent, blissful, and content, I held Molly tightly in my arms, her own tiny fingers absent mindedly dancing around in my hair where they could reach. Maybe it was the wine or the just the post blissful state we were in, but everything felt good. “Well… that was something…” I was less elegant with my words now, and I knew I might live to regret it, but seeing the playful smirk on Molly’s face, I didn’t think she minded. “Yeah…” she breathed, her fingers stopping and starting a few times with my hair, her words just as sparse and simple. “I don’t remember you being so… athletic… or enthusiastic.” “It’s my new workout routine. It’s been working like a charm for a while now,” I said proudly, trying my best not to puff out my chest… even a little. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice it the last time you were over.” “Well… yeah. That was great and all, but this? This was another level, Pete.” Like Morse code being inputted on my head, her fingers still danced, but after a moment, the dance started to feel more like a probe. “Everything okay up there?” I asked, only purely joking. But… Molly didn’t say a word for a moment, until she removed her hand and repositioned herself closer to me. “Pete… have you switched shampoos on me?” I gave a small chuckle. “Talk about déjà vu… Todd asked me the same question at work today.” It felt strange. Two of the exact same questions in a single day, especially when I had never been asked that before, struck me as odd. “Is it really that different?” I tried not to sound concerned, but I’m not sure how well it worked… especially when Molly readjusted herself further to look at me squarely. “Pete… did you change your skincare routine or something? Some type of moisturizer maybe?” Molly’s look of concern and a little confusion rattled me a little inside. Sitting up now myself, the mood of passion and good feelings was fading fast. Now, I felt like I was in some interrogation… or an exam from a doctor. “No… why, Molly?” She didn’t say anything at first, but her grave look, even more prominent than before, was not comforting. “Uh… yeah… Molly? To be honest… you’re starting to make me nervous over there with how you’re looking at me.” Molly grimaced for a moment and even looked like she was going to burst. Taking a breath in though, she seemed finally ready to spill. “I…” she exhaled in seeming defeat. “Just… go look in the mirror, Pete.” I didn’t want to leave Molly all alone after such a wonderful night, but her face… I had only seen her level of concern that prominently before when she was told to go to a potential war zone on one of her first overseas assignments. Humoring her more than anything, if I’m honest, but, then getting closer to the mirror, I saw her concerns were more than just a fanciful imagination or new details being noticed as a result of increased distance between us lately. Loving the outdoors, I had trekked the sunbaked hills and mountains of the local trails dozens of times over by now. Wearing a hat, but not often applying sunscreen, I had developed a few wrinkled crows’ feet around my eyes, and more than a few sunspots on my arms. I wasn’t their biggest fan, and barely even noticed them anymore, but now… both were gone. Not even a tiny hint of either having ever existed. Looking closer into the mirror at my reflection, I realized I couldn’t just play everything off anymore as simply a new exercise routine. Molly soon appeared in the doorway behind me, now donning a loose set of underclothes. “Babe… I don’t want to be the alarmist here, but… thicker hair, better skin, more energy…” She crossed her arms and sighed, like she wanted to be anywhere other than here right now, but she still continued. “You were caught in the mist that day. I remember, because when you told me, I felt like I had swallowed a rock suddenly. Maybe…” She didn’t seem to be able to finish that thought. “Yeah,” I continued, “maybe this is something more and I didn’t just escape with a single healed cut on my head like everyone else thought I did.” As soon as the last word was out of my mouth, Molly bolted over to the phone and began dialing. Curious, I stepped out of the bathroom. “Mols… what are you doing?” “I’m calling the doctor.” There was no sound of fear or hesitation in her voice. Just a plan of action and that was the end of it. I wasn’t sure if I could tell her no even if I wanted to at that point. Still, some victims had been resistant to seeing a doctor and they got worse not seeking any form of therapy that was at least supposed to help slow down the effects of the virus. Not wanting that fate, I just let her take charge and went over to sit on my side of the bed we had started sharing more often. Alone with my thoughts, I couldn’t help but feel the sting of the sharp turnaround of my life. In less than a day, things had changed… maybe forever. Yesterday… even ten minutes ago, I was a man. I was the lover and boyfriend of a beautiful woman. I had a successful job and had a strong family with siblings and parents who loved me, each in their own ways. I had a car and an apartment, and I had my health. Now… all that was in question. Just a few symptoms, but to me, they almost inevitably felt like the first dominos in a long string of them that would never stop. My parents had bounced, or halted, in their 20s and 30s. A few of my friends had hit their teens and some of my coworkers were now in middle school… or even daycare again. The virus was all over the place and I think that’s what worried me more than anything… the unknown of it all. Molly confirming an appointment with me for Thursday was all it took. A single nod from me, and another domino had fallen. I was officially going in to get tested… to see if I had the virus. Ten minutes and I would know, but it seemed lately that ten minutes was all it took for a person’s life to change. As Molly hung up the phone and hugged me from behind, I felt lucky with all I had going for me, but her briefly running her fingers through my hair was just another reminder of what was happening. In a few days, everything could change for me, and through all that, I have to admit I had the one emotion that seemed to grip most these days with Orange Day… fear. 14 1
Guilend Posted January 27 Posted January 27 Great start. I had a feeling he’d start regressing. Also all those next story choices, you know how hard it was for me to choose one? I ended up choosing Bethany because I thought it would be fun to see something new in the DD universe you’ve created. Or I guess it considered old because of the timeline 😂 and I chose it because I really wanted the other two and couldn’t decide between them so just went for the odd ball out.
Dirty Boy Posted January 27 Posted January 27 So this virus strikes randomly, regresses randomly at a certain age?
Operational Systems Posted January 27 Posted January 27 I love the small motif of sexualization (parents / him), as likely this is a high point for his adulthood. I wonder if Mr. And Ms Greeley still did their duties (though it sounds like she very quickly fell from 16). Only a few "ar" works I know have dealt with the "my wife is now a teenager", problem, within genre this is more of a humiliation often reserved for the boys/husbands. These themes often get warped in other ar virus works- a taboo that is crossed at the great peril. It Would be interesting if his parents or even molly got pregnant. We already have the younger sister here, who presumptively in the main characters fall, will be a sticking point as she surpasses him in maturity, but being reraised contemporaneous with ones sibling or child would be the ultimate humiliation.
Dirty Boy Posted January 27 Posted January 27 It would be really strange and psychologically hard to have a wife and find her as a teenager or child to take care of.
BabySofia Posted January 28 Posted January 28 I love that you are taking a stab at the Age Regression virus trope yourself. Your writing elevates the concept a lot, and I appreciate you taking your time and not just instantly making the character obviously regressed in the first part of the chapter. The subtle signs only seen by someone who hadn't seen him in a bit, etc. was a nice touch! I'm looking forward to Amanda gaining that baby brother! Or, maybe it's Molly gets a baby boy? Can't wait to read more! 🙂
LostBBoyBear Posted January 30 Author Posted January 30 Hey everyone! Apologies for the later chapter posting. I was extremely busy this week, but at least this time, most of it was for the better. With how everything just so happened to stack up though, I feel pretty confident that I should be able to get another two chapters up this week. Next week could get a little tighter and back to just three, but you just never know. In the meantime, just keep an eye out for the next one to post. Next, thank you for all the comments so far. Taking a step into this type of story I knew had the potential for several issues to come up. I’m hoping to avoid most of them, but all your comments about enjoying the story so far or your curiosity at least have been very encouraging. So, again, thank you all very much. Further, 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. 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 3: What’s Happening, Doc? “Doctor Tell. Doctor Tell, please report to radiology. You’re needed for a consult,” a woman’s voice announced over the intercom. I could only sigh and twiddle my thumbs together and go back to sitting… sitting and waiting. Unfortunately, after Molly’s raised suspicions the other day and sticking to the appointment she had made for me, I was now waiting in the newly formed section of the hospital for ARV testing and consultancy, and while I was pretty level-headed at first, all that was bluster and confidence was erased when I began to hear a series of painful or anguished screams coming from the hallway where all new patients went. I tried to do a few deep breathing exercises, but so far, they weren’t working. Even more noticeable, my right knee still bounced wildly in nervous anticipation. But it wasn’t just the screams I heard that was putting me on edge today… It wasn’t even the fact that I was surrounded by at least a dozen patients, all younger than me and some even under the age of 10 at least who were now having very real and very… mature conversations, either to their significant other or even on their now oversized phones. Seeing all that wasn’t a breath of fresh air, but I had seen all of that in the past six months. The whole country… even the world had seen it as well. It seemed like every other news story now was about some terrible story of living with ARV or someone losing their mind or taking that one last bender and causing a six-car pileup on the interstate because they couldn’t reach the brake pedal or see over the dashboard anymore. No… what I was worried about happened yesterday and despite all my efforts, I still couldn’t shake it from the back of my mind. I was shaving, as I usually did as part of my morning routine, when I noticed that a burn scar had disappeared from the top of my hand… one that I had gotten when I was a 22-year-old senior at a party back in college. It was the third scar that I had noticed vanish without a trace since Orange Day. I hadn’t minded the others so much, but this one… I had used it ever since as a reminder not to do stupid things... especially not after drinking. For me, particularly with the charcoal grill incident at one fateful party, it felt like a gateway to maturity… to what was beyond college. It was a hard lesson and I’m sure my skin would never thank me for it, but I knew other permanent signs of the same lesson could have been much worse. Now, I looked at the same spot, all blank and fresh, and sighed while my knee still bounced around. For me, unfortunately, unlike the other scars that I could just pass off as simple healing, because of that reminder of a lesson, I had never applied any scar ointment to the burn scar. Most people thought it was stupid, but now, its disappearance without any other rational reason just made everyone else who saw it concerned as well. ARV largely affected age regressors, or ARs, within the first few days or even weeks after exposure to the mist, but new cases continued to pop up. The CDC wasn’t sure why for the time delay in the different strains of the virus still, but there were always theories. Trying to figure it all out myself, I had looked up the top contenders last night to debunk them, but I hadn’t made much progress. The closest I got was the atmosphere locality changing the strain or something to do with the ’87 cell modifying the explosive device ever so subtly. Regardless of our strains though, looking around the crowded waiting room, the cautious public seemed just as determined as I was to know for sure whether we had the virus or not. Fortunately, with all the precautions in place and the high number of those infected, the government performed two tasks to everyone’s relief. First, they had fully subsidized the tests, so testing oneself was now completely free. Second, they had improved the process in both costs and efficiency. Before, results wouldn’t be available for at least a day… and that was if you were lucky and using one of only ten original testing units in the entire country. Now, however, the test consisted of only a quick cheek swab, followed by just 30 minutes for the sample to be processed and studied. 30 minutes and you would know if your life was about to change forever. Somehow, it was reported that it made the whole process even worse and tick by slower. Having just performed the swab myself less than 20 minutes ago, I had to agree. So, trying to refocus on my mind away from my own wait by any means necessary, I looked around the room I was now situated in. The waiting room was an all-purpose one for all ages of definite or potential regression victims, so most ARs in here were in various progressions of the virus. Worse, each made me worried more about my own fate than the next. On either side of me, old signs were still adhered to the backs of the chairs to maintain social distancing standards before they discovered the virus wasn’t airborne outside of the initial dispersal of the mist, now the leading theory for how bad one was affected by it. The longer exposed, the worse off you were… or at least that’s what I had heard last week from the CNDC news channel. Still, distracting myself, I had an endless array of other people’s problems to choose from. The first, sitting a few chairs over from me, was a man and a teenage girl in the midst of an argument. “You think that nurse is prettier than me, don’t you?” the teenaged girl whined accusing the man with even a poke to his chest. “No, no, honey,” the just starting to wrinkle man told the girl next to him. “I just want to get this over with and my eyes just can’t focus in here. More importantly though than a little jealousy over nothing… is that Dr. Faulkner just needs to check that everything is in order with you and to check if the virus is finally slowing down. Gotta know what we’re dealing with… whatever that means.” Stewing, the angry glare of the girl finally morphed into something more visible and audible. “I’ll tell you what we’re dealing with,” the teenage girl said, getting up and standing beside her more elderly partner, starting off low and almost threatening. Looking at their hands, even from this distance I could just make out a single slim band of silver on each of their ring fingers. I was quickly reminded of my parents’ neighbors, the Greely’s. “Got that?” The man nodded. “Well, maybe you don’t see it yourself, but you look like some old pervert with the way you keep kissing me in public! That, or I look like some gold-digging piece of trash! I mean for gosh sake’s Ben… look at me. I can’t be older than 17 now. How can we even stay together? Is it even legal?” Her likely new surge of teenaged hormones seemed to be right on track, keeping her mind buzzed and somewhat irrational. Some doctors estimated that only 3% were immune to those effects though. “Maybe,” Ben sighed, “but it’s not so bad. You’ll see. I got the virus a bit myself, so we’re about 25 or 30 years apart now, but who knows? Maybe in a month, we’ll be less than ten.” “But we were in our 40s and thinking of adopting kids… or at least a rescue puppy.” I could instantly see the disappointment in her face over the lack of success with the former notion. “Now, we might have better luck trying to conceive again, but I’ll be a pregnant as a teenager!” “True,” the older man admitted, his weariness over the whole situation palpable. “But just focus on the fact that now we have a few more years to try, and anyways… look around.” I saw the now teen woman as she looked around and then clearly grimaced over what she saw. Looking around at the room myself, I couldn’t blame her. “Our situation isn’t ideal, but it could be worse… Very worse.” The feelings exhibited by the man felt like he was grasping at straws to keep his marriage intact and his sanity together at the same time. Sighing, it was hard not to feel the same way in this new messed up world. For example, looking to my left, I saw a woman in her mid-50s wiping the mouth of a younger child, who had clearly just finished a snack of some kind, and either due to his reduced coordination or simply not caring about appearances and more on the food, had a good chunk still plastered over his face. “Stay still Jeffery! You’ve got crumbs all over your face. I swear… your pizza stains on your sheets before were bad enough but this…?” “Mom, stop it.! You’re embarrassing me,” the little elementary school boy whined while trying to shove his mom’s hands away, but now, compared to his regressed state, she was still too strong for his diminutive size. “Me, me, me. Honestly Jeffery, you tell me how you’re so old and mature, but you’re acting like you did when you were at this age.” Satisfied now with her cleanup job on her son’s face or just not wanting to fight him more on something like that, she then sat back in her waiting room chair in a huff. “Maybe the news was right. Maybe your mind has regressed to that of your body. I don’t know, but honestly… it would explain a lot of…” “It has not!” Jeffery said, stomping his foot on the ground and doing nothing to help his case. “I’m just so… frustrated. Look at me, mom. I’m pint-sized! I was at the top of my class in college and was living with my girlfriend. Now, I can barely see over the dashboard of the car anymore.” I could already see his lower lip begin to tremble. Like most, being brought down so suddenly into adolescence or childhood, most ARs weren’t used to the emotional fluctuations anymore. They were bad enough the first time, but now, most are shown to have little self-control in dealing with their sudden surge. To say the least, it wasn’t helping the overall reputation of any other regression victims below 18 years old lately when one of them ended up on the news yet again. For her part, however, his mom sighed and leaned forward, tenderly moving an errant piece of hair from her regressed son’s face that was threatening to fall into his eye after he dropped his head to his chest in seeming defeat. “I know honey… but consider yourself luckier than some. The doctor said that you’ve probably now regressed to 8… maybe 9, but you’ve seen the others at the school. I know it must be tough,” she leaned forward and grabbed her son into a hug, “but there are fates far worse than yours. Just… hold on for me. Be a big boy today for me… please, sweetie. Do it for me...” Jeffery, seeming too emotionally conflicted to fight his urges or maybe slipping into some previous state of childhood temporarily, could only meekly nod and then fully embrace his mom back. Hearing her wording, it almost seemed like a domino effect in here. Somewhere, there always seemed to be someone worse off than you, and it consistently seemed to be the one caveat almost everyone was told. Their situation might have been bad, embarrassing, or even just awkward, but there was someone worse. Across the room I think I found the one victim that seemed to be the lowest on the totem pole… the one everyone finally seemed to land on as their consolation prize that at least the ARV victim sitting on the floor now wasn’t them. Remembering all the news stories, even being the now youngest around here, I knew what I was seeing wasn’t even the worst-case scenario, but the pre-school aged child on the floor represented a very real fear that anyone with the virus had at first. The likely three-year-old at best sat on the floor at a woman’s feet, with his back turned to the rest of the room. A small green t-shirt and khaki shorts did little to cover up the tell-tale bulge or even the waistband of the pull-up sticking out. For months, the top news stories were about the ARs who had regressed below the age of four, likely being the most shocking and therefore most entertaining to hear about. So far, in most cases at least, above that age allowed the victim of the virus to remain some semblance of control over their lives. Some tasks varied just as much as the people themselves, but due to their still prevalent high-mental acuity and focus, many tasks could still be undertaken solo… albeit with some admitted difficulty now in their new lives. Under the age of four, however, the victim’s own body would seemingly almost act against them. Even if they still had the mental fortitude of their previous age, their physical qualities wouldn’t allow them to utilize those learned skills. Skills like walking, talking, coordination, writing, and even bathroom habits could now be just beyond their reach. Little things we took for granted everyday were now major milestones and achievements for those victims… if they could prove they could even demonstrate them. Looking back over, the woman and child said little, but her weariness and sadness as she looked at the tot, and the wedding ring she kept mindless rotating on her finger screamed volumes about their previous relationship. Sadly, my suspicions were confirmed when a nurse walked in and made her announcements once more. “Williams family? Mr. and Mrs. Williams, I believe?” The young woman raised her hand. “Here. Just one moment. Takes us some time to get moving these days.” The nurse just smiled and nodded, seemingly completely used to that type of response now. Getting up but then immediately crouching back down, she rubbed the back of the playing tot on the floor… her husband. “Sweetie, it’s time to go.” Stopping his movement of the toy truck in his hand, he looked back up at his wife… now clearly his full-time caregiver. “Go? To the doctah?” “Yes, honey… the doctor.” The tot seemed highly conflicted, almost like he had some newfound fear of doctors. It could have been a long-forgotten fear, or maybe it had something to do with the occasional scream of anguish or pain still coming from inside the doors. Regardless of his feelings though and wanting to move on to follow the ever-patient nurse, Mrs. Williams bent down and grabbed Mr. Williams before hoisting him onto her hip. Right as she did though, she made a pained face. At first, I thought she had pulled her back. She seemed physically fit, but I wasn’t there to judge. Unfortunately, it didn’t take the room long to find out why her face was pained… and it was definitely more of the emotional type. “Honey? Did you have an accident?” Mr. Williams made no reply and simply buried his head into her body as much as he could. Likely being one of the more recent cases or developments in his regression, Mrs. Williams seemed stunned for a moment. Now words of encouragement or even a pat on the back… just nothing. “That’s okay, dear,” the nurse said, patting his back herself, likely assessing the situation and now trying to ensure that everyone was okay and wouldn’t have a complete breakdown in the waiting room… husband or wife. “It happens all the time here. We can get you all cleaned up back here first thing.” Turning back to Mrs. Williams, the nurse gently held out her hand to the entry doors to the rear of the doctor’s office. “If you will… please just follow me.” Mrs. Williams smiled gingerly, grabbed a large green bag, and followed the nurse through the door. It took me a second to realize that the bag wasn’t her purse… it was likely the start of Mr. Williams diaper bag. Shuddering, the whole scene unnerved me to my core, and I could see the others in the waiting room shift uncomfortably at what had just transpired. It wasn’t even the worst it could be… I knew that from all the news stories about those even slipping under the age of one, but it was still frightening, nonetheless, to see in person. I saw others comforting each other, doling out little whispers, hugs, and kisses to soothe the jangled nerves of the ARs. Not having anyone with me, not wanting to bring my family in case I was just imagining things and worrying them needlessly, I gripped both my arms in a kind of self-hug. ‘You’re just imagining things, Pete… You’re younger but not like him. You won’t be like Mr. Williams…’ It helped a little. Still, I knew I had to distract myself in some way to keep my mind away from going all dark and cloudy over my potential future. It was normal to feel that way from what I had read in the past few days, but still, I turned to a nearby side table that was littered with dozens of pamphlets and magazines discussing the virus. Hoping one of them would work, I picked up the one labeled, Getting to Know ARV and What to Expect. Opening the pages, I was greeted abruptly by various images of different ages plastered over most of the pamphlet. Leaning into more of the analysis and breakdown of things, I tried to track the virus not to focus on the fact that the pictures of the ARs were nearly indistinguishable from their new respective ages and instead turned to the section discussing the three categories of ARV that had been discovered. ‘Slow and Ranging.’ The first usually had the best outcomes but was harder to track. As per the name, it was slow and the regressed age rates ranged from regressing two years for every one year of life to regressing about one year every three months. With the extended timelines, this category was still mostly unknown and affected only a small amount of the population… so far. As the virus took its time, it was difficult to judge where that strain of the virus would eventually end. For the lucky few, particularly the elderly with more years to lose or ‘play with,’ some speculated it could extend their life for years to come… even doubling it some cases. The only problem… estimates listed most in this category as dipping into their early teens… even elementary school ages one day. ‘Average and Mild.’ As the name would suggest, this was probably the most ideal. Ages tended to halt before dipping under the age of 18, but more importantly, the category covered mostly those who regressed one year every two months to regressing one year for every week. This category was by far the most common and most desired, as it allowed the AR to slowly acclimate to their new role without sacrificing the age range of where it would stop. Even then though, there were no guarantees. ‘Fast and Dangerous.’ The words were enough to chill anyone to their core. The final category wasn’t the most common but had received the most attention of the three. Most victims experiencing this category were likely in the blast zones of the orange mist, were more immune compromised when exposed, or had been exposed to the mist for longer… even in smaller doses. All of which unfortunately allowed the virus to penetrate or overwhelm the body’s defenses more rapidly. ARs would regress at a rate of about one year every six hours to one year per hour. It made up less than 5% of cases but it was highly noticeable when it did occur. In the first two months after the mist, many victims would be normal one day and be elementary-aged children a few days later. Breaking through the body’s defenses, some fringe groups even wanted to use the technology to cure diseases in people of virus’ or even stubborn forms of cancer resistant to radiation, but it was a dangerous process due to its rapid nature. There had been hundreds, if not thousands, who had purposely subjected themselves to this form of the virus. It probably had saved their lives, but now, many found themselves back in school or worse, diapers. “Wahh!!” A high-pitched wail echoed throughout the building and startled most of the room. It was a little louder than most of the others, but being so common, everyone quickly and horrifyingly went back to what they had been doing beforehand. Almost like a barometer for how bad these places got, so much bad news passed through these halls now that the cry could have been any number of things. A young child may have just slammed their fingers in a door, a victim could have been just informed of their final age, or maybe a child was getting a shot from the nearby preschool building and wasn’t even a victim themselves. It was just too hard to tell. Still, I had to put any of those notions out of my head and made sure to quickly return to my reading. The pamphlet listed several resources to contact in case of being diagnosed to help with the transition, as if the posters behind me weren’t doing that enough. At the same time though, despite my own personal beliefs, I understood why there were so many ads for that kind of thing. The haunting images of happy or lonely children, depending on the message, had appeared everywhere in the past months. It wasn’t the first story to appear on the news, but about a month in, homeless ARs were becoming more prominent in all the major cities. Many of those affected had no families or friends who could take them in and often, lifestyles and daily living were very dangerous for ARs. Most had to leave their jobs, and without income or sometimes even the mental capacity to function, several initially ended up on the streets. Thinking back to a few months ago, I heard about my old chemistry teacher thinking that he could fight the ARV on his own after contracting it himself. Owing to a lack of coordination and being temporarily distracted by a peanut butter cookie nearby, he nearly burnt down his house after one of his experiments went very wrong. Government agents were on the scene immediately though and assisted him in finding a new caregiver. Reaching out to his family, the last I heard was that he was now being looked after by his sister… someone to whom he hadn’t spoken to in years beforehand. Now, they seemed to be doing well, and what’s more, she had just bought him a mini chemistry set to play with. Looking back at the pamphlet, at the bottom of the page, I noticed a warning label in miniature white letters, almost too small to even read without a magnifying glass. So, using my phone’s camera to zoom in, I read the fine print. ‘Current testing is still preliminary, and results should be taken with caution. Many may end up older than initially diagnosed, but up to 30% of victims may end up with a younger prognosis. These are often the case with those…’ “Mr. Crichton? Peter Crichton?” Realizing the nurse was calling for me, I set the pamphlet down and quickly raised my hand before standing up to go over to her. Getting close, a different nurse than the one who had initially brought me back, smiled at me. “Wonderful to meet you! Just follow me back. That’s it! Right this way Mr. Crichton. Or… can I call you Peter? Or Pete? Or Petey?” “Pete’s just fine,” I said following her through the door and trying to ignore her cheerful tone I most often associated with pediatric nurses. I tried desperately not to take that as a bad omen. “Excellent I’m nurse Hills, but you can just call me Gina, okay? Everyone else does, and I’m going to be here for you Pete… kind of like a friend. So, how’s that sound?” I honestly wasn’t sure. Either Gina was super friendly, or I was being led off to be informed that I was now slowly dying for whatever reason. Still, in the light of everything else going on, I appreciated her friendliness. “Okay, Gina. That’s fine, I guess.” “Perfect, Pete!” She lightly giggled to herself on that one. “I’ll likely be following you around and helping you out moving forward depending on the results today, okay?” I nodded, now getting to a large over-roasted turkey. “Good. Ah! Here we are!” She then led me into a tidy office with a large window looking outside at a local park. “Just take a seat in here and Dr. Faulkner should be by to join you momentarily.” I nodded and started looking around the cozy office as I sat down and waited. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I noticed that Dr. Faulkner wasn’t a specialist with the ARV. Admittedly, there were few that were, and most of them were situated in the larger cities to direct the larger numbers of the populace that had been affected there. Still, to my chagrin, I noticed that his glass and embossed nameplate still read, Dr. Faulkner, Pediatrics. Just as my stomach dropped over that little revelation and only sitting for a moment, the door opened and a mid-40s cheery black-haired doctor walked in. Speck of gray dotted his neatly combed hair, and he warmly smiled at me as soon as he rounded my chair. “Hello, Pete. Is it okay I call you that?” I was just about to stand shake his hand, but he quickly used both his hands to gesture me to sit once more as he did himself. “I think you’ll find that we like to be pretty informal around here.” I quickly nodded in acknowledgement, still trying to ignore what I had read on his nameplate. “Uh, speaking of which… use your first name. Uh… is it Petey?” “Pete’s fine,” I said still reaching out to shake his hand. Dr. Faulkner seemed amused by the gesture but was still decent enough to shake my hand back. “Thank you for letting me know. I rarely want to make any assumptions here.” Dr. Faulkner then reached down and pulled out a file from nearby, which I saw had my name neatly printed on an upper tab of the manilla folder. “So, I’m sure Gina here has told you that I’m Dr. Faulkner, but I’ll respond to that, doc, or even Jerry if you’re feeling adventurous.” I just nodded and kept eyeing the folder in front of him on his desk, biting at the bit to know what was inside… knowing full-well that the results that could change my entire life were only mere inches away from me now. I’m pretty sure Dr. Faulkner noticed. Only smiling though and moving the file to both his hands, Dr. Faulkner stared back at me with a calculating look on his face now. “Right. Onto the matter at hand… no need to delay.” He then cleared his throat and to my disappointment, instead took out a pen and another sheet of paper, already clearly marked with several blank spaces to fill in. “Now, I just want to make sure… you said that you’ve been noticing some scars disappeared on your hand, your hair was thicker, skin clearer, and that you were exposed for a few minutes at least to the mists when they first exploded, correct?” I nodded again and felt a lump in my throat as his pen furiously began to scribble down my answers. Still, I was more worried when he began to check off the boxes as well. Looking back up, he set his pen down and pulled the folder back up. “Okay, thank you for telling me, Pete. Just some information for the government is all.” I could practically feel myself tilting forward, almost wanting to just snatch the file away from him. Dr. Faulkner only smiled and held the file firmly. “Well, let’s just see what this says, shall we?” I nodded before he began to open the folder and then started scanning at the results printed on the precious pages within. “Okay… so, lots of data here, but I’m guessing you just came for the bottom line, huh?” I nodded, nearly screaming to let loose the tight feeling building in my chest and the queasy feeling in my stomach. “Fair enough… but two bits here you need to know about.” He breathed deeply and seemed to collect himself for a moment. “So, firstly, you do have the virus.” My stomach dropped and my head felt fuzzy while the world almost seemed to blur and fade away for a moment. I knew it in my gut before I sat down, but hearing it aloud was another situation entirely. ‘So, now I have the virus. Shit…’ Obvious to others maybe, but now I knew with whatever sick and twisted news that meant. With that terrible revelation though, I now only hoped I would be like my parents and have the virus send me back a little. Recapture my 20’s maybe but maybe still maintaining my adult status and faculties I had literally worked all my life to obtain. But the doctor’s face said it all. He sighed and then set the folder down, showing a myriad of numbers in columns and even a chart that looked eerily similar to the height weight chart I remembered from when I was younger. “I’m sorry to inform you of that, but the good news is that you seem to be matching an early teen diagnosis with roughly a slow to mid-range rate. Probably somewhere around the one year every three to six months. Do you understand?” Or… maybe his face didn’t say it all or the doctor just thought this was somehow bad news… “I think I do?” It was good news, and I even felt a little skip in my heart and a smile on my face. Not wanting any gray areas though, I pushed for more. “Just so I know everything though… what exactly does that mean, doc… uh, Dr. Faulkner?” Dr. Faulkner actually seemed to like when I called him simply ‘doc,’ but answering my question ass a priority, he didn’t make a deal of it. “Well, Pete… Frankly, I can’t give you years, but I can give you some ranges that should put your mind at ease maybe when you leave here today and tell your friends and family.” He then rapidly looked down at the chart and then back up at me. “So, I see you’re not married, so there’s nothing to worry on that front, but I do see that you’re in a serious and committed relationship. There are no laws with significant others yet, but that might be a conversation for the two of you to have at some point… just in case.” So far, everything was good. Not great, but I could work with what he was telling me. I’m not sure how anyone was going to react, especially when they found out I went on my own and didn’t tell them, but I was still in the green zone of acceptability with my family and Molly… at least I hoped. “As far as the other aspects go… I can tell you that you might need to go to the special school that just opened up, but given your age range right now, we can schedule a test for you when you level out more to determine if that will even be necessary.” I gave the doctor a funny look as to why that would even be required, being old enough on the spectrum to not lose my memories. ‘Right?’ Based of Dr. Faulkner’s look though, I wasn’t so sure anymore… “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Mental regression is just bunk and a scare tactic or only affects those in potty training or below.” I quickly nodded; half convinced this guy could read my mind now. “Well, we’re not so sure yet. All of this is still pretty new still, and most don’t want to prodded and poked and tested to see how far they’ve officially fallen. Right now, the limited test data shows that victims may give into their new mental ages at all age ranges, but this could be more a factor of how they are treated or the environment they get subjected, rather than a purely mental change like some fear.” Reading my file once more, he let that stew in my brain for a minute before continuing. “In any event, you likely won’t lose anything at this level, and the possible test later is just to be sure.” He then set my file down and looked at me sternly. “Now, this might be a sticking point for you, but unfortunately, there’s the same fear as far as your drinking and driving privileges out in society. It’s not illegal to do it yet, but you’re going to absolutely need a new ID or risk being treated as a kid and getting sent to jail. Trust me… you don’t want that.” He wasn’t threatening me or anything, but Dr. Faulkner had a clear ‘or else’ vibe about him now. I hadn’t seen it much on the news, but like Mrs. Greely, most ARs had their licenses pulled in the beginning outright. Now, there was more leeway, but getting a new ID to absolutely confirm to the world of my new status stung more than a little. Smiling once more though, Dr. Faulkner continued. “Once you level out, though, you’ll be given a new ID to show your biological versus mental age, or if you will, the total amount of time you have been living. That’s what the law seems to care about right now but just be on the watch. No sense in breaking the law if you can avoid it. So, all that make sense?” Horrifyingly so, but it did make sense. I was still me and still an adult, but now, my adult status was about to get a big old and nasty Asterix next to it. “Yes,” I finally said, a little despondency coming through clearly in my voice now. The doctor smiled at me carefully and then waved behind. Seconds later, I felt a calming hand placed gently on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw that nurse Gina had reentered the room. “Hey there… Now, I know you don’t want to hear this, Pete, but this is really good news. I have patients that would kill to be where you’re at. I know you were probably hoping that it would all be fine and you would be like your parents leveling off at a higher age, but just take this one day at a time, okay? Can you do that for me?” I knew instantly what she was trying to prevent. The loss of adulthood and all that went with it sometimes plus a surge of hormones didn’t end well for a lot of the initial victims. Before there were support groups, a lot of ARs made what they called ‘their last shred of an adult decision’ and ended things on their terms before they bounced too young to try again. So, seeing their pensive Dr. Faulkner’s and Gina’s looks and wanting to put their minds at rest, I nodded. “I can try…” Relief quickly washed over both of their faces. “Good,” Dr. Faulkner announced triumphantly. “Now, this center has already called your parents and your girlfriend to inform them about your diagnosis, per the new guidelines from the CDC.” I cracked my knuckles in anger over such a loss of autonomy and privacy. I was still an adult and felt I was entitled to the same rights I had only moments before. I couldn’t help but snarl a little at the revelation that both my family and Molly would now know about me and this diagnosis. Suddenly, my whole future just got flipped on its head. Dr. Faulkner sighed and hung his head low. “I’m sorry, Pete. I know this is probably upsetting to you and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. After all, it could be viewed as a privacy issue, and the courts are fighting it, but they’re also tired of ARs not telling anyone and trying to cowboy up or what not, and then getting themselves or worse, others, injured.” He then folded his hands on his desk and looked at me with pleading but understanding eyes. “Like it or not though, they are going to be your support in this whole journey and there’s a lot that we all need to discuss depending on what happens next with your course of the ARV. For now, though, I want you to talk with both of them tonight… Molly and your family, and I want at least one of your new support groups to be here on your next appointment.” I hated the new guidelines the government had put in place… even when I hadn’t contracted the ARV myself. Still, despite my own and now very personal feeling, I knew they were necessary to prevent patients from waiting until the last minute to seek help. Like Dr. Faulkner had alluded to, before the new laws with patient confidentiality were put in place, regressed drivers were getting into accidents and causing massive damage wherever they went. Hospital visits had reportedly tripled in the last six months, so for the sake of safety, I just had to swallow all this news in one go. Already needing to see another patient, Dr. Faulkner then gave me a list of websites to go to if I needed help and his and Gina’s personal phone numbers… just in case. Nodding over to him, Gina then escorted me out of his office and back to the rear of the front desk, where I had previously taken my weight and temperature before I got the test. Looking over and maybe seeing my melancholy with all the regulations now settling over my life, Gina sighed. “It will be okay, Pete. I’m sure your family and your girlfriend understand your situation and will be supportive of you throughout the process. Just take a breath, mull things over, and before you know it, you’ll feel as right as rain. I promise.” Feeling the weight of all that I had just learned, I only nodded my head as we set up appointments for the next few weeks to check in with my progress. With little chance of getting the worse strain of the ARV now, I was in the clear for suddenly regressing overnight, but my progress still needed to be monitored. There was unfortunately still some give and take of the final age diagnosis and might not be known truly for weeks. For me, it wasn’t the best news but looking around the front waiting room from the rear once more, I saw just how much worse it could be. Exiting soon after, I couldn’t help but just stare at my car parked outside. Lost in my thoughts, I could only grimace and sigh over the fact that my legal ability to drive would soon be curtailed. Getting in finally, after a car nearly ran me over while I was lost in my own thoughts, it was a sobering thought as I placed my hands on the steering wheel. Looking at my hands, I could tell that the burn mark was definitely gone, but with it, I also realized something further. Even though I had been alive longer than Lucas, the erasure of the burn scar meant that I was only 21 years old at best now. Compared to Lucas’ 22, I was now biologically younger than him. In theory, I was now the middle child of my family… It was a slap in the face. All the pamphlets warned of not flying off the handle or doing anything rash, but 21… with the way things were going, I wasn’t sure how much longer I had of being able to legally drink. I wasn’t an alcoholic or anything but drinking legally was still a nice bonus of being an adult for me. What’s more… with the laws seemingly changing every week for ARs, I knew with a sadness in my heart that my days of going to bars could now be limited. So, revving my engine… even with my puny and unpowered SUV, I smirked at all that was about to happen. Having taken off work a little early today, there was still plenty of time to hit the bars, even before the sun had fully set. Clicking my car into reverse and backing out with a screech, I briefly thought of my family… of Molly, but I shook them out of my head. Tonight was for me. They could wait until tomorrow. 15 1
BabySofia Posted January 31 Posted January 31 30% regress younger... that's a pretty high percentage. I'm betting he doesn't stop in his teens... Continuing to enjoy this!
Dirty Boy Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Having a wife or husband become a child and lose their memories must be devastating. Practically the only ones happy with the regression are the elderly who find themselves between 20 and 30 years old. The question is: why release this virus? What advantage does it bring to terrorists to have people who become children again? Molly will probably end up becoming a sort of mom 2.0 for Peter, since parents have their problems
LostBBoyBear Posted February 1 Author Posted February 1 Hey everyone! So, this chapter was originally supposed to be part of the last one. The previous chapter was only four pages initially but looking at it further and fleshing it out more, I knew eventually that I should keep these two chapters separate. I felt there had to be a pause with his diagnosis and a pause in his initial reaction to it. I really want some of the consequences of this virus to hit, and I knew with the first two chapters being a little devoid of that stuff, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Also, I realized that being the family of a regression victim had to be hard as well. I touched on it here and there before, but separating this chapter out, I knew I could start to do a whole lot more with both Molly and his family… at least lay the groundwork for all of what’s to come. Also, just to clarify, it will become clearer later in the story, but for now, the ’87 group released a toxic substance into the atmosphere. Due to its unstable nature, the virus, meant to harm or even kill the population, mutated rapidly and caused the regression of the populace. Again, I’ll elaborate on this more, but no, regression was not their main goal. It’s a little minor, but it’s just something to keep in mind moving forward here. 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. 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 4: Living It Up Is Easy, Right? My old used car sped through the intersections. I didn’t run any red lights, but tonight, I just kept pressing down on the gas pedal whenever I could, making it over to the downtown river area where all the nightlife had sprung up over the past few decades once the industry left. I felt like some maverick at that moment, and that maybe my name should have been Snake or Bruce or something of the sort. Unfortunately, my phone began to buzz. Looking over, I saw it was Molly. She had made my appointment, and she wasn’t an idiot by any means. She knew that it wouldn’t take hours for me to get my test results anymore. Even if it still did though, she would still probably just be looking to check in with me. She was good like that when she wasn’t on a shoot, but with my diagnosis in hand, and worried about my plummeting age… even with the category of ARV I had been diagnosed with, the last thing I wanted tonight was to be thrown out of a bar for being ‘underage.’ Speeding along off the interstate and through the main section of downtown, the same patch of roads I had driven on six months ago on Orange Day… the ones that were blocked off back then after the threat by the ’87 group had been given. Now, a lot of the area was still blocked off and metal gates and concrete barriers were still erected in most places. An exponential number of ensuing accidents from ARs no longer able to drive or fly, however, and the helicopters had subsequently crashed all over downtown. Being the center of the attacks, the park outside city hall had taken the biggest hit and crews were still removing the resultant rubble, shattered glass, and twisted metal. More disturbing though than the near warzone still existing in the town square, were all the flowers, well wishes, and missing posters adhered to the barriers. One of the biggest sour notes on Orange Day was the lack of transparency to first responders. While not every first responder was present for the release of the orange mist and not everyone had been so thoroughly affected, a chunk of them were no longer capable of serving the city. Most were put on long-term medical leave, and some seemed to relish their newfound youth, but with some of the rookies losing up to twenty years… not everyone was so pleased. Seeing the missing posters a little closer, I was reminded of the sheer chaos in the week after Orange Day. My buzz was temporarily removed as I remembered all the regressed victims that came streaming into hospitals soon after. Desperate, terrified, and largely overwhelming ERs many weren’t treated in time. Shrinking out of their clothes and some even losing their memories, they couldn’t identify themselves and their coworkers, who had been affected themselves, weren’t much help either. So, the searches began. Being in the early days of the response to the mists, many ARs had been shipped off to foster homes and orphanages. A few of the crews affected were able to hold onto their underlings or those more affected than they were, so it wasn’t all bad news, but it was estimated that at least 40% of those affected severely that day ended up in some kind of government funded home. Families of course tried to search for them, but in the ensuing chaos, it was inevitable that some went missing. Six months in, hopes began to dim over ever seeing some of them ever again. A few refused to give up, and government aid agencies helped where they could, but sadly, it seemed to be like finding a needle in a stack of needles. Shaking those darker thoughts out of my head, I continued to speed away from the still broken parts of the city and to the riverfront to wash my worries away. With a chunk of the population regressed back to their earlier years or several out there wishing to drown their sorrows, the riverfront bar scene had never been more alive. Find a parking space was quite the challenge, but eventually finding one, I locked my car and strolled away. “ID, sir?” the bouncer requested sternly from me, blocking my entrance into the club just beyond his bulging biceps. Looking up at him, I tried my best to keep my cool. On one hand, I was worried that he wouldn’t believe my ID was actually mine or just another fake… apparently, the black market for unmarked and clean IDs was a growing market. Second, though, his height definitely intimidated me and reminded me sadly of my recent diagnosis. ‘Young teen…’ It could’ve been worse, but at that point, I started to rifle through my head all the problems. Handing my ID up to the giant bouncer, I was cruelly reminded that at that age, in all likelihood, I was going to shrink. Not pea-sized or anything, but a drop was a drop. As the bouncer glared back down at me, glancing at my ID and my likely terrified face, I tried to do some deep breathing exercises and remain calm. Looking to my left though after I heard someone yelling, my confidence was far from being bolstered. “No! Let me go, you jerks!” At the oldest, a preteen was being hoisted away from one of the nearby bars, a pair of hands at his shoulders, and another at his feet. “You can’t do this! I’m really 29!” The clearly identified as security guards just scoffed and placed him outside on the grass. “Yeah… and you look it too!” the first one sneered down to the young man now sprawled out on the grass. “And don’t come back without an adult, a doctor’s note, or some sort of new ID card, young man! Or else!” the second one warned. “This isn’t a daycare, charity, or a free-for-all place!” The two then turned their backs on the young man and disappeared back into the booming club next door. Looking back at my own bouncer, I could only gulp in fear that that young man could very well be me sooner than I would have liked. One might have assumed the two bouncers were just extra strict or even cruel. That assumption could be right, but no one could blame them for doing their job either. It didn’t take long for the local teen populace to try and take advantage of the newly regressed and try to claim they were really once adults. Bouncers apparently tried to impose tests, but those quickly fell apart. So, after one teen’s parents threatened to sue the city, the bouncers increased their vigilance… and their scrutiny over who they let in. To my relief though, the gorilla-like bouncer handed me back my ID. “Here you go… enjoy yourself.” There was little emotion in his face, so I wasn’t sure if I just scraped by or not, but his form stepping to the side to let me in, I could only thank him and then sigh in relief as the blast of hot air and loud music from inside hit me at full force. Inside, I found the usual hustle and bustle I had come to expect from the local bar and nightclub scene after Orange Day. Normally, it was just Molly and I, and maybe a few of our friends, but tonight… tonight was just for me. I earned that much at least after my news today… ‘Right?’ With the music pulsing, I bobbed around for a little bit out on the dance floor. I was no great dancer, but I just wanted to let loose tonight. All my fears, worries, and anxieties about any and everything about my future just need to fly far away. For a few hours at least, I didn’t want to think about anything dealing with Orange Day or ARV. Being the hotbed of the city now though, that proved nearly impossible as I soon found out. “Hey!” a powerful but high pitched and tiny voice shouted from somewhere, completely disrupting my thoughts. I looked around, but I didn’t see anyone who was directly facing me. “Hey you! Down here!” Questioning my own mind for a second, I peered down more toward the floor, and there in front of me, was at best, a 12-year-old kid. Short for their age, I forgave myself for not seeing them in the first place, especially with the number of patrons here tonight. “I said watch it, pal!” the man shouted back up at me. “Sorry!” I was genuinely sorry and while the young teen seemed like he wanted to straight punch me in the groin for not paying attention to someone like him, he also seemed used to what had just transpired. Giving me a hateful and nasty look, he glared back at me for a second, scoffed, and then walked off, soon disappearing into the throng of people around us. Sighing and trying not to think about him, ARV, or how he even got in here in the first place, I decided to retreat from the dance floor for the time being. Looking towards the rear, I quickly noticed the extensive display of three bars around the room. Heading toward the nearest one, I looked up and the back shelf and then grabbed one of the few free menus of drink selections tonight. I was never that great at making decisions and seeing all the choices combined with the unknown of how much longer I even be welcome in a place like this, I tried to think of what I was best in the mood for tonight. Beach vacations meant Mai Tai’s or Pina Coladas. Football and baseball games meant a nice tall and cold beer while dates with Molly meant a sweet and stiff old-fashioned. Hitting the 21 years mark… well, to me at least, it meant a lot of things, but the last ability to drink out legally was a punch in my gut… one I didn’t intend to waste. So, determined, I started ordering all the drinks I could. As the afternoon started to turn into the night, my phone blazing away but ignored and still tucked away in my pocket, I consumed it all. A beer, followed by cider, followed by shots, followed by an old fashioned, and currently downing an IPA. Each was followed by a nice glass of cool and refreshing water, which inevitably meant that I had to pee for about half the night. At first, I was fine, but by my sixth drink, I was feeling the alcohol more than I usually did. “You okay, pal?” the bartender asked as I leaned over on the bar top after I swigged my final bit of the fruity IPA. “Nevah… shit…” I hiccupped slightly, “bettah…” My speech was clearly taking a hit and my mind felt like it was spinning. Before I could try and right my mind and take a moment to keep the room from spinning, I felt an urgent pang in my bladder. “Oops! Gotta go!” The bartender seemed a little judgy at my statement and even at me personally for some reason, but I just ignored him. ‘Who was he to judge me?’ Still, almost falling over once in the bathroom, I had to take a breath and steady myself. “Wha’ da’ fuuuqqq…” I nearly babbled I was so drunk, steadying myself in front of the urinal and leaning heavily with one hand onto the green tiled wall in front of me. Fortunately, as soon as I unzipped my fly, I made it and felt the sweet relief of emptying my bladder. “Ahhh…” I even smiled at the glorious feeling. “First night drinking again, huh?” a voice echoed from one of the stalls. “Wha’?” I asked, trying to finish up and zip my fly back up. “Who…” I felt a rush to my head and re-steadied myself against the wall. “Who… awe you…?” With a flush and then opening the door, a tall but young teenager then exited one of the stalls. Fortunately, I was just finished with my own business to zip my fly and stare back at him without making things awkward. Walking to the sink but still keeping his focus on me, he smiled and nodded toward me. “Name’s Oliver. You?” With a slight cock of his head for me to join him, I turned on the sink an began to wash my hands as well. “Pete…” Looking at his young frame, he didn’t seem to carry himself like a normal teenager. So, curious and slightly ignoring good manners, I pressed forward. “Uh… are you a…?” “AR?” he correctly guessed to my nodding. He chuckled a little when I seemed a little taken aback. “Yep! Sure am. Which is why I know how you’re feeling. New to all this?” I nodded sloppily and went to grab a paper towel from nearby. “Yeah… just came from my appointment even…” “That bad?” I could see the sadness in his face, but he then showed his relief when I quickly shook my head. “Nope. Young teen… or somethin’ like dat, buh’ jus’…” I was at a loss for words after that, hoping Oliver would understand. Turns out, he did. “I get it, man.” Drying his hands off as well, he looked at me directly. “All this stuff is tough. I was in my late 30s and then boom! Orange mist all over me when I was just making a deal of a lifetime on the market. Oh well I guess… Plenty of time to do it all over, right?” Oliver struck me a little funny. Before, ARV always felt like a death sentence for anyone under the age of 18. Sure, my people like my parents had contacted ARV and were ARs themselves, but they had just regained their youth… not regressing so badly as to have to go through puberty again. For me tonight with my new prognosis… Oliver was a breath of fresh air. “Gessh… no fear… no…” I put my hand forward to hold myself up against the wall but missed and stumbled forward a little. “Woah…” “You okay?” I nodded back to Oliver, and he seemed relieved once again. “Good, but I’m guessing you’re wondering why you feel like trash, huh?” I wordlessly nodded. “Well… it’s simple.” As another patron entered, Oliver guided me out of the bathroom and outside the bar to the back deck area overlooking the river. The summer crickets had mostly calmed down, but the warm night air still hung about. “Now… basics of ARV…” Oliver cocked his head slightly and cracked his neck. “You’re regressing, and have probably seen some loss of scars, right?” Again, I nodded. “Well, to put it simply, you are healing. It’s a little more like reverting to a previous state, but the concept is the same.” I just stared back at him blankly, trying to suppress an oncoming burp. Not put off, Oliver continued. “Your whole body is changing and healing. All those previously built-up chemical processes and functionalities are going back as well. Your noodle not so much, but everything else is back to what is used to be. Check this out!” Looking at his extended hand. Oliver then began to flex his fingers and then retract each to touch his thumb. “Couldn’t do that before. I screwed up my hand and arthritis was already starting to set in. Now? Perfectly new and all fine, but… same thing with your body.” I still looked at him to provide the connections I needed to understand. “So, in other words, your tolerance is lower. Your liver is better but watch out for the rest. The last thing you want is to overdose or something like that because you went too hard and didn’t think about the consequences.” “So… hold on...” I burped a little and just tired to let it off discretely like a deep exhale. “You sayin’ I can’t drink anymore?” Oliver laughed. Not a chuckle… a laugh. “No, no! The opposite actually!” Now, he seemed almost giddy. “Your body is healing itself… middle tier I’m guessing, right?” I nodded back, shocked. “How’d you guess? Is it a smell or something?” Oliver smiled and shook his head. “Nothing like that. Just… you’re panicking but not enough. Tier ones are basically getting immortality without many consequences… at least for years to come at this point. Tier threes though… not enough time and just go wild around here. Tomorrow they could be gone, so also, they’re getting pretty rare to actually be seen at bars now. So… tier two. It’s the most common.” “Oh…” Being relatively new to all this… at least as a ‘boots on the ground sort of way,’ Oliver’s knowledge seemed boundless and more importantly, useful in a practical sort of way. “What are you?” Oliver grinned. “Tier three actually, but I was one of the lucky ones. It all hit me in less than a day, but I’m bouncing only to my teens. I’m less than 0.2% apparently of cases, but it also means that I’ve been this way for a while and that most of my friends have been long gone.” “I could be your friend…” I barely knew this guy, but my drunken state combined with his sad eyes just hit my heart hard. He needed a friend, and I needed both a friend dealing with this stuff and a guide. Oliver seemed perfect. Almost like he expected me to say that, Oliver grinned. “Sounds good. How about another bar? A special one too?” Again, my judgment was off, and while the old me would have turned him down gently, the new me wanted to have fun before it was too late… just in case the laws changed. I didn’t want to risk it, so I nodded with a big, goofy smile. “I’m in, Olly!” “Oliver,” he quickly corrected, “but good.” Hopping away from the bar, he beckoned me onward. “Come on. It’s a little walk away, but you’ll thank me when we get there.” Not thinking about my car, Molly, my family, my job, or really anything else, I simply said, “Okay!” and followed him out, now passing behind the gorilla-like bouncer that still seemed incapable of smiling. Walking along the river, Oliver and I began to get to know each other better. For him, ARV was his second chance in life. He still worked but now back in his teens, he had all the knowledge and wealth he had accumulated, but now with the time to actually use it better than he had before. Passing his maturity test with flying colors, Oliver was indeed lucky. Surpassing nearly every obstacle and living his life to the fullest now, he started to become somewhat of a life goal of mine. I wouldn’t have his job or his financial stability, but going to bars, keeping in shape, and just having fun in the wildness of youth again, all felt like real possibilities for me now. Fortunately, just as Oliver had told me, even with just the walk to get to the bar, I was already feeling better. Now only tipsy, I saw Oliver stop and then gesture to what looked like one of the last bars along the strip. It was just out of the way enough that the crowd noises had died to only a distant hum. If there were less lights here, I might have been nervous that this was some sort of trip. Looking at the bar in front of me now though… I didn’t question my safety, but I did question my choices in coming with Oliver in the first place… even going so far as to wonder if ARV had affected him more than he was letting on. “Simon’s Big Top Playhouse?” I asked, reading the balloon-shaped letters and the almost creepy but happy painted face behind it. To be blunt, it looked like the entrance to a daycare or maybe some ball pit of fun zone at best… not a bar. Looking at Oliver like he had just betrayed me, I wanted him to know how I felt. “You tricking me or something? Is this a joke? Are you trapping me? Am I getting punked? What the hell is this, Olver?” “Easy, easy…” he replied, holding both his hands up defensively but also calmly walking over to the entrance. “Just hear me out, okay? Less than a minute out here and then less than a minute inside, okay? Sound agreeable?” I had already walked all this way, and the temptation of another bar was intriguing. Plus, Oliver seemed like a good guy. Maybe not the best guy ever and seeming to place too much value on his money over anything, but not really the one who was going to drug me and then steal my kidneys. Plus, I was rarely wrong about people, so, I decided to give him another chance. “Fine…” “Thank you.” He then cleared his throat. “Well, simply put… this is just a joke… camouflage even!” I still looked back at Oliver with deep skepticism. “Okay, okay… it’s just to keep those we don’t want out. It’s a ARV specific bar. Caters to us and us alone. All types inside and they don’t ID here. They check your profile against the national database and that’s your ticket in. They keep out the really young, but otherwise… it’s our own little bar to have fun in for as long as we can, okay?” I was still hesitant, but I slowly nodded. “Good. Now, let’s go inside. First round is on me.” Not wanting to say no to a free drink, I followed Oliver once again, feeling a little confident despite th unknown of it all. After all, if this was an ARV bar, I felt like I had the absolute potential for being the strongest and tallest in there. People like my parents, despite having ARV, didn’t need a reason to go to a specialized bar. This type of bar was only for those who had nowhere else to go. Stepping inside, I could tell just how right I was. Inside, with ages ranging from people in their 20s all the way down to what looked like elementary school kids were dancing. Almost everyone was drinking, but curiously, several had what looked like the cups kids would get at restaurants that had a lid, straw, and some sort of design. In this case, everything seemed to be themed to a circus. Tapestries hung nearly everywhere, the smell of popcorn lingered throughout, and even the center of the club looked more like the center of a big top. Statues and painted figures of acrobats, animals, strongmen, a bearded lady, and even a figure loading into a canon on the far side all were included as well. Oddly though, I didn’t see even a single image of a clown anywhere. “Isn’t this cool?” Oliver asked, no sign of sarcasm in his words whatsoever. “I guess…” I felt conflicted at seeing everything. On the one hand, it looked like any pop-up or themed bar or blub that I had ever entered before, but on the other… the circus theming felt strange. It was almost like ARs were being pandered to. “I don’t know… feels a bit cheesy…” The elephant-shaped plastic cups and the get-up of several of the staff members didn’t help that view. “You’re still thinking like an adult who cares about the world, Pete,” Oliver said, pushing me over to the bar first. “And that’s a bad thing?” I felt as being a newly crowned AR, I should be fighting tooth and nail against any suggestion or hint that I was anything but an adult still. I had even come on this outing tonight just to let loose and feel as adult as I could… for as long as I still could. Oliver, however, shook his head. “No! Not at all.” He then gestured to the bartender for two drinks called the lion tamers whip. “You’ll like this, but seriously, Pete… it’s okay to want to feel old and mature, but you’re going to find that looks aren’t everything in this new life of yours.” His finger then shot directly to the side of his head. “It’s what’s up here that really counts. Anyone who says differently is either in denial or hasn’t gone through what we’ve been through… or will go through.” I was in a whirl of confusion. What he said made sense, but it was hard to fathom truly with my own admitted biases still playing around in my head. Despite the clear demarcation lines on the dance floor, separating the age groups into four ranges, I still found it all strange and… unnatural. Being part of the bar and club scene with Molly and others before her for years, ever since my early days of college, I had grown accustomed to a certain standard. I knew I was aging… emphasis on ‘was,’ but I knew that in bars or clubs, patrons were older than 21. It was a nice bulwark for everyone to work with. No one was under 18, or at least they shouldn’t have been, and so there were no signs of possible distress or what the age of consent was. No thinking… just drinking. Not very admirable or chivalrous I will admit, but it was just a rule in these types of places. But now? Looking around the dance floor at the teeny boppers and those that looked more like they belonged in a TV ad for a child crisis hotline, I felt what I felt. “I…” “Shhh…” Oliver commanded me, pressing his fingers against my lips with one hand while handing me the lion-shaped cup of sweet-smelling liquid with his other. “Just drink. Drink and forget about those concerns. In here… it’s all a madhouse and we’re all doing our best. Just stay within your lines and have fun. Those are the only two rules. Everything else is just… personal.” Sighing, I looked back at the sincerity in Oliver’s eyes. I saw loneliness there as well and wondered just what he was like outside this place. So maybe it was a combination of all the above and notion of ‘what do I have to lose?’ rattling around in my head, but I only nodded gently and then took the lion-shaped cup from him. Sniffing and sipping it, it was an odd taste of cream soda and salted nuts. Like everything else, it was strange, but not bad. Shrugging my shoulders, I took another gulp and then joined Oliver on the dance floor. And did we dance! One dance partner revolved into the next and then the next. One song turned into five minutes and then turned into hours. Running all night, the club pounded the riverfront away and put the rest of the places to shame. Telling enough, almost like a countdown clock, one by one, the sections on the dance floor began to dissipate. A few left after yawning, but a few were called away by someone else. Each time it happened, I felt slightly guilty about ignoring my phone still… my family or Molly on the other end, but Oliver just brought me right back into the fray and four more songs would pass. Soon though, just as light was beginning to crest and shimmer down on the river outside, the club closed. Walking out, our final group staggered about and watched the sun rise. I could tell all of us were harboring a deep-seeded fear within us. People like Oliver stood like monuments to be copied in the weathering of our future battles, but the rest of us were terrified. Oliver and another teenaged woman were the exception. For the rest of us, our futures remained unknown. Fun for now, but ultimately cloudy as to our final destinations. Just as the last of the orange and red streaks from the morning sun began to yellow and fade around with the clouds and surrounding deep blues of the morning, the crowds dissipated even further. Oliver and I made a few jokes about finding my car, but a familiar voice stopped me cold. “Peter Edward Crichton!” Spinning around, I saw a very tired and very pissed Molly stomp up toward me. ‘Full name now… Well… I’m dead.’ My easy-going and free-for-all night was over. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing here? Why haven’t you answered your cellphone?” I tried to answer, but she just barreled right into me, much to the amusement of several of the others whom I had just been partying with, including Oliver. “And no text? No calling? How did your appointment go? I almost called the police to file a missing person’s report or check for jumpers! Did you even…?” “Woah! Damn!” I didn’t have a single foot to stand on, and I was now only realizing of truly what a disappearance after an ARV appointment could mean, but I also didn’t want to get yelled at to death outside of the club. “I’m sorry, Molly. I really am, but… can we just go? Or you lead me back to my car, or…?” Scowling wickedly at me, justifiably so admittedly, Molly then leaned in towards me. I wasn’t sure if she was going for a hug or a kiss or a smack right across my face. Turns out, it wasn’t any of that. Her nostrils flaring, her fiery eyes nearly seemed to implode in rage. “You’ve been drinking!” I nodded, almost wanting to gesture to the club behind me… but I thought better of it. “I can’t believe you! You were partying all night… and dancing?” Her eyes skidded around at the scantily clad early 20’s women around me. “Oh… you are so getting it for this, but no… Hell no am I letting you drive in this state. So…” Like a balloon full of hot air, she then deflated a little and let out a tiny exhale of exhaustion. “Just… get in the car, Peter.” My name now seeming almost like a curse, I briefly waved goodbye to the others and Oliver and promptly got in her car, still waiting nearby at the top of the embankment of the river area where all the clubs and bars were. Closing my door, I could nearly feel the chill coming off my girlfriend. I wanted to say something, but Molly looked like she was either about to burst into tears or punch me squarely in the nose. At this point, I wasn’t sure which was truly worse. Still, I also knew I had to try… even if it was foolhardy. “So… I guess I should explain what happened las…” “No…” Molly nearly spat at me. “Just… no. Whatever you say now is just going to sound like an excuse to me. Just… wait until we get back.” Almost a little worried, I only nodded my head and sat back in my seat. Due to all the partying last night and into this morning though, it didn’t take me long… especially with the silence, to fall right asleep. * * * Daylight no longer streaming onto my face, I felt like death. Oliver had said that the regression process would get a little screwy, but this was easily worse than a hungover… just in a different way I couldn’t quite explain. Still, dry and itching, my eyes began to crack open. After, two things were very obvious to me. First, I was no longer in Molly’s car, and I was even lying down with a blanket drawn over me, but second… I was at my parents’ house. Not a second after I opened my eyes though, my younger brother… ‘older brother?’ walked in and posted me. “Hey everyone! He’s up!” Almost immediately, I began to hear the scurried pace of screeching chairs along the tile floor and then the shuffling of feet all coming closer to me. Soon, Lucas, Amanda, our mom, our dad, and Molly were all standing and staring at me with hate, curiosity, and worry in their eyes. It was a strange combination, but a very powerful one as well. “Hey… so look…” I started up, hoping to seize my chance first and explain everything before they could yell at me and ask me a million questions like Molly had done. Looking over at her still pissed, I wanted to avoid that if at all possible. “I can explain everything. See, I…” “No…” my dad said without missing a beat. “Just… no.” he sighed and shook his head. “Do you have any idea what you put us through, Peter? I… we just area t a loss for words honestly. We thought the worst last night.” “But I’m fine,” I tried to justify. “I used my judgement, and I just need to get away for a little and…” “No!” my mom wailed. “Do you have any idea of how many ARs take their own lives once they get their diagnosis? Do you?” I didn’t but from the new reports and nearly every brochure or article on ARV containing the number to the suicide hotline, I knew it had to be high. “You scawed me, Petey!” my sister moaned, looking both mad and sad at the same time, her bottom lip pouting prominently, but the rest of her face scowling right back at me. Even Lucas shook his head at me. “I started a search party for you, Pete. We got about an hour and a half in when dad remembered we could just track your phone.” “Molly volunteered to go pick you up this morning and we called you sick into work today,” my dad explained. “Did you even remember that you had work today? Or do you just not care anymore?” I hung my head ashamed. “I care. I just…” “What, Pete?” my mom asked impatiently. She was pissed but seeing it with Lucas in the past few years, I knew her anger just stemmed from her worry. Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, I guessed that she hadn’t, maybe even couldn’t, sleep a wink last night. Guilt knocked on my lower gut and I quickly felt queasy. “You say you care, but how can we trust your word on that? What indication could we even see to imply that? One call… one text. That’s it. I’m okay. Two seconds at best, Pete.” “It didn’t even have to be me, Pete,” Molly noted. I could tell she wanted to be my first call, but now, everyone just wanted to make sure the lesson stuck rather than shoving blame onto me. “Just… why?” I knew the question was coming. In between drinks and dancing with Oliver and all the others last night, I had thought about what I was going to say. I didn’t come up with anything, so digging deep, I knew I just had to lay everything out. “Why? You want to know why?” Everyone nodded at my mostly rhetorical questions. “I have ARV, and not the revisit my good youth and bang my girlfriend from sunrise to sunset kind either. No… this is the pimples and hormones version! This is the possibly ‘needing to go back to school. Sorry for kicking you out.’ This is losing alcohol and the legality to drive… maybe even the ability because I’m too short or uncoordinated. It’s not the worse diagnosis, but my life as I know it… as everyone here knows it, is over.” In their panic, at least based off their faces, they probably had never thought about what all this would mean to me. They weren’t heartless or unempathetic, but they had bigger fish to fry with my ‘disappearance.’ But now… I could see a tiny rub of guilt begin to eclipse all their faces. My dad’s soft side coming out, he was the first to speak. “But Pete…” “No, dad,” I breathed out with effort. “I love you all in your own ways, but… I wanted… needed last night. I could be losing almost everything I care about… everything that makes me an adult in the next few months here. Can’t you all understand that? I know I screwed up. I get it. I was an idiot, but can’t you all see that I was an idiot mourning the loss of my adulthood?” Cracking like a dry twig in the middle of summer, my mom broke away and walked up to me without a sound. Her eyes swam with tears and regret. I saw concern too, but it was quickly getting swept away by everything going on with me now and with what I had just confessed. Getting to me though, she stopped, and I could just make out her almost twitching hands… ready to reach out further. Not wanting to fight it anymore and trying to lean on some of the goodwill and positives Oliver had been talking about on the dance floor last night at one point, I flexed my palms upward while still nearly past by my side. Arching them up and raising my arms a little, I waited for my mom to come the rest of the way now. Secretly, I was panicking with every fiber of my being that she was going to reject my advances and that I was only imagining her hands or had drastically misinterpreted them. I knew full-well that sometimes, mistakes ran too deep… especially on the day of their incident. To my glee though, my mom took only a second to then throw herself at me completely. “Oh, my baby boy!” She hugged me tightly, almost to the point where breathing was a bit of a challenge. Backing out for a second though, she looked at me dead in the eyes. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again. You got that?” I could only nod my head, feeling the guilt surge through me over and over again. Needlessly, I scared Molly and my family, and I couldn’t be sorrier. “I’m sorry. I just…” I could feel my eyes begin to tear up slightly. “I just needed a second. It… it won’t happen again.” Opening my eyes for a second, I looked at Lucas, Amanda, our dad, and Molly. “Please forgive me. I can even pinky promise if that helps.” It was more to my sister, but instead of bargaining or trying to convince me to do something for them, they lunged into me as well. Well, almost… My family was here for me in comfort. Yes, I had screwed up in a big way and they were all worried sick, but with tensions lowering and my explanation of loss had worked its magic on them. Molly though… Trying to push back over the fact that she wasn’t hugging me, I tried to put myself in her shoes. It wasn’t easy, but my empathy soared out to her. She was my girlfriend and likely only got support from my family later when everyone realized there was an actual problem. Before that though, she had likely just sat alone and terrified she may never see me again. Significant others leaving each other in the middle of the night, especially after a prognosis of age and rate, was unfortunately common. Still, looking over to her now slow movement towards the family to hug things out, I couldn’t help but wonder just what I was seeing with her. My head scrambling once again to decipher the puzzle that was Molly, I narrowed the possibilities down to just two. First, I wondered if she was still pissed about me from last night, or second, and more worrying… I wondered if it was the future of us… more specifically, our relationship. Again, most of them failed after ARV. Despite all that and now pushing it out of my head, I tried to focus on happier things. Molly was now coming over to join the group hug, and while maybe not forgiven, especially after a few errant side comments, my family’s embrace felt wonderful. Despite all the love, however, I knew I was going back to Simon’s. Irresponsible and terrible according to my family… yes. But thinking back to all my shenanigans there last night, I couldn’t just not go back. It wasn’t the best place in town, but no ID, better security, and a great set of drinks and dancers… I knew I had to be satisfied with what I had. Besides, Oliver was going back in a few days. If he went… midair For now, though, there was just my family, Molly, and Me. For now, that seemed to be normal enough, for all we knew… a cure could be found tomorrow. I wasn’t confident really about anything, but knowing it could be worse, it powered me through everything. That tiny bit was my hope. Without it… I couldn’t even think about it though. 14
Dirty Boy Posted February 1 Posted February 1 Peter's reaction to go get drunk is understandable, it might be the last time he can do it. Molly in my opinion is thinking of leaving him because she can't stand that he will go back to being a kid
BabySofia Posted February 1 Posted February 1 I am curious as to how the Molly situation works out. I personally hope she works herself to a point she doesn't leave him. I'll be curious to see what happens if he also doesn't see his regression work like expected... Keep up the good work! 🙂
Dirty Boy Posted February 1 Posted February 1 I think if something like this were to happen in the real world, there would be a lot of media awareness to try to treat regressed people who still have an adult mind like adults instead of like children. There would certainly be a lot of work for psychologists. It is obvious that many people would take advantage of this, the most apprehensive parents and partners would create unpleasant situations for the regressed, many husbands and wives would abandon their AR partner, while some moved by their feelings would go from companions to real tutors for their husband/wife. Then there would be the question of sex, would it be morally acceptable or legal to have sex with a physically adolescent partner even if mentally he/she is an adult?
thedman Posted February 1 Posted February 1 This is just absolutely spectacular. The depth of the emotions and the thought process of someone losing their adulthood is just.... wow.
Operational Systems Posted February 1 Posted February 1 I like the subtle nods to poor decision making of a late teen male - the aggressive driving, the binge drinking and staying up late on a work night, staying with the wrong crowd, all of which can double for a person feeling like he's just losing control over his life, or no longer cares. Does he need to do it to prove he's still big, or does he need to prove he's still big, because he no longer is? Parents and family don't understand what he's going through and refuse to treat him right, reinforcing his teenage rebellion. 1
LostBBoyBear Posted February 4 Author Posted February 4 Hey everyone! Sorry for not posting more last week like I initially planned out. A few things got in the way, and I knew I needed to fix a few elements here that I couldn’t rush my way through. I should still be able to get at least two more chapters out this week, so keep an eye out for them. 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 5: Gains and Losses ‘What have I done?’ It might have been the single most asked question behind ‘Why me?’ of any AR I knew at that point. As predicted, I was now going to Simon’s pretty regularly, which meant I was starting to meet a whole lot of other ARs. As bad as it might have looked from the outside, unless I had specific dinner plans with my family or Molly… I was there. Oliver was too… and about forty or so other regulars. Sadly, though, I started to notice the regulars on the lower end of the spectrum stopped coming. One day, I couldn’t stand not knowing why anymore. “Why, Oliver?” I asked, now firmly in my teenaged years at around 19, as seen with the disappearance of a small cut I had to the back of my arm I had received during my sophomore year of college playing flag football. I was playing just for fun… a member on the opposing team wanted to win at any cost. Needless to say, though, I had become almost obsessive with checking my body each morning when I woke up. Whenever Molly was over, I even started to involve her… just to be thorough. Based on her groans and sighs lately though, I wasn’t sure how much longer she could put up with me asking something along the lines of ‘Is this mole I got in the summer eight years ago gone?’ or more poignantly, ‘Do I look any younger?’ I started to worry that her patience with me was waning in all this, but we still made love like bunnies, and I saw she still deeply cared for me. At this point, that was enough for me… at least not to freak out yet over. Still, back to Simon’s, Oliver sighed. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” I then noticed other nearby patrons had slowed their previous rhythmic dancing and were staring at me with near enough to daggers in their eyes. Apparently, I had just touched on the one subject I wasn’t supposed. I was still curious though and even though I had a guess now of why, I felt like this was something that I shouldn’t guess on, so I pressed on regardless. “Yes? I just don’t want to guess here, okay?” Oliver remained unmoved, however, so I brought in heavier tactics. “Please, Oliver, I need to know, I just can’t not know about something like this. Feels pretty important, right?” Oliver sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was supposed to be his buddy in all this… not a reminder of all the ills in life now. Still, placing my hand on his arm for a little more encouragement and bringing on what Molly called my ‘begging eyes,’ he relented. “They regressed too far, Pete. Their caregivers probably finally relented and forced them to stay at home. I mean would you let your eight-year-old go out to bars and get drunk every night… even if their liver would be 100% okay in the morning?” I hadn’t even thought about that. “I guess not…” It was clear though that everyone else had. Further, I saw something else was being left unsaid. The eerie and almost saddened but judgmental looks along with disappearing younger victims led me to only one conclusion. Some who disappeared may have just finally had enough. No support system in place maybe or not relishing the thought of sing-along times or diaper changes… many had opted to take the power into their own hands. One last decision of the earthly mortal coil if you will… My mom had even insisted on me at least texting her everyday… just to be sure I wasn’t going to be yet another statistic. Oliver and I went back dancing with the other ARs in the crowd that night, but the notion of what had been revealed to me weighed heavily on my mind. After all, I was looking down at the barrel of my teenaged years, and while Dr. Faulkner had noted an ‘early teens’ prognosis, I started to get worried about something else. Dr. Faulkner also told me that I was going to experience a loss of one year every three to six months. Coming to Simon’s, I was initially right around 21 years old. Now, at best, I thought I was hovering around 18-19 years old. I didn’t have many marks from that time period, so it was hard to tell, but I wasn’t constantly doing the math in my head and the numbers didn’t add up. Even at the shorter end of my diagnosis, at three months per one year, it should have taken me at least six months to drop by two years at best. Instead, I was showing a drop of two years in less than a month now. I told Molly about it, but she just waved it off, citing ‘You really don’t know though, do you?’ She was right of course… I didn’t, but it was still leaving a queasy feeling in my stomach afterward and one thought in my head. ‘Was Dr. Faulkner wrong?’ Still, I couldn’t keep rehashing all that out. Some ARs did and had to be committed from stress-induced mania. They stopped sleeping, eating, caring for themselves… it was a straight drop into limbo for ARs. From what I heard at Simon’s, there were few stories that ever ended up truly well once someone went to those places. So, I persevered as best I could and focused on other aspects of my life. Molly was still jetting off to all sorts of locations around the country and the world, but my family made sure to support me as much as they could. Lucas was finally starting to come out of his shell in college and was much more open. I wondered if my parents talked with him about being the ‘oldest’ of the family now, especially with how much he now called me throughout the week, as compared to before, but I was just glad of the company. Further, I had yet to quit my job. Everyone knew that I had gotten whacked with the virus, but no one was truly bold enough to come up to me a ask me straight to my face of what my diagnosis was. It was considered rude these days, and there were even rumors that personal ARV information was going to be protected soon enough in the court system. Todd though, the sniveling, rumor-generating little shit of the office seemed persistently at my desk and probing me with daily questions, almost as if knew. I told myself that ‘he didn’t know anything,’ but I started to be less convinced about that as the weeks rolled on. “So, you got any kids, Pete?” He of course knew that I didn’t, but I felt he was going down a path, so I figured I would at least indulge him this time. “No,” I replied curtly, trying focus more on my job than the daily on-goings of Todd. “No kids for me. You?” “Me?” He almost seemed offended or at least shocked by the notion. “No. Probably never, but who knows?” He paused for a moment and his eyes then narrowed down to me from his arms perched on my cubicle wall. “I was just curious, because I heard of this great new place for them… Simon’s. Ever heard of it?” My blood froze. I tried to pass off his suspicions as mere probes or just baseless speculation, but I knew things were getting tight enough as they were. I could already maybe go for a day without shaving now and still get away with it and I knew from experiencing my teens the first go around, things were about to get a whole lot more noticeable. For the moment, styling my hair and keeping the same clothes that I wore before the virus, I was managing to blend pretty well, but I knew that was going to last forever. ‘What about acne? Hormones? Increased sweat production, or Geesh… what about a voice crack?’ Everyone had heard the news stories, read the articles… even experienced a friend or two going through all the symptoms of the below 18 prognoses with ARV. Now though, all that was about to change for me. I was transferring from witnessing it to experiencing those same stories I had often feared about before my diagnosis. Worse, though, if I was ever asked for my ID, the truth would be up in seconds now. Yesterday, I was finally given a new ID that registered me as an AR. I could still do a lot of things, but with the increase in drunk AR drivers and increased worry of the country, courts had started cracking down on certain restrictions. The one I feared most when I was first diagnosed though, the one which prevented me from driving or buying alcohol of any kind, had passed. ‘Hangovers,’ or whatever I was really experiencing with my delayed regression or whatever Oliver had told me before, weren’t a picnic, but it was still my life. I still was an adult, despite whatever the future laid out for me. I was determined to keep that notion up for however long I could. Still, I had to answer Todd, so I swallowed my fear and shook my head. “No. Never been there before. Heard something about it maybe from my younger brother maybe? I don’t know…” Feeling a little defensive though, I made an effort of probing myself. “Why do you ask? Have you been there?” Todd only laughed at first like he had just heard the best joke of his life. “Me? You serious?” I nodded, still trying to play dumb. “Hell no. That place is for teeny boppers and kids. Do I look like one of those to you?” “No… I guess not.” I tried to keep up my façade, and for today, Todd seemed to buy it… but he kept bugging me about different things. My likes, my interests, new hair, losing weight… all the things that were happening to me. It was like he was firing missiles at a target from far off and just clipping it… not hitting it, but he was getting close. It all seemed good until one day about a week later. “Pete?” I turned around and saw my manager standing right behind me. “Oh. Hello, Jeanette.” I then saw her long, sullen face, contrasting heavily from her usual cheery ones. Steadfast and a hard worker and boss for sure, but she carried grace and kindness about her that was rare in the business. She expected a lot but was also the type to take you out for lunch, ask about how you were, or even organize the office into celebrating your birthday. Seeing her like this though, I knew something was up. “Everything okay?” Jeanette nodded. “Yes, Pete. I just…” Her eyes then scanned around the room above my office cubicle. Since Orange Day, a lot of workers had opted to work from home. Two coworkers down on the fifth floor and three janitors working that day had gotten hit with the mist. Not wanting to take a chance, several had opted to work from home more often… just in case the ’87 group ever hit again. “Uh… let’s go to my office instead, okay?” A tiny shard of ice hit my heart right then. I could only nod and follow her there, seeing a few of my colleagues busy at their own cubicles as they passed by. She usually came to me to talk… the only other time I cam to her office was when she asked me about an HR problem after one of the office holiday parties. Entering her office and sitting after she gestured to the seat… I could feel my palms already beginning to sweat. “Pete… it’s come to my attention that you’ve been doing some great work here. You always seem to have more energy now, and that’s great.” I wanted to interject, but she kept rolling. “But… and I think I can say this as your boss and your friend, but you also look… different.” I wanted to explain it away, but before I could, she just held up her hand to stop me. “Before you try and say something you’ll regret or even try and lie to me, I want you to know that this is a safe space. Today, there won’t be any repercussions, but I want to support you however I can. So, I’m going to ask you to simply nod or shake your head… but do you have ARV?” I wanted to be outraged. I could report her to HR, but I also knew that would trigger a whole process and they would inevitably check with the government website if I was listed there… or even just check my ID. Despite it being rude and maybe even illegal at some point to ask about a status, most legal authorities were pretty set on the notion of one loophole in identifying someone with ARV… if they posed a risk or threat to safety or productivity due to the virus, an employer could ask. Dreading this day, I knew it had to come out eventually, so, praying that Jeanette was a woman of her word, I took a deep breath. And I nodded. There was a slight pause, and at first, Jeanette only said, “I see.” Cold and calculating, I could see her managerial skills kicking into overdrive. She had the contracts and company to protect after all, but she was a good person still. So, after about a minute, she finally returned to the more humanistic side of her personality. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Pete. Are you okay? Are you… How…?” I knew what question she was dancing around, and I held up my hand to stop her from digging herself into a hole. “I’m okay… uh, well, more or less. Bit of a shock and I can’t say I’m looking forward to this thing but reading in between the lines here… about a medium speed but only young teen at the worst.” “Oh.” I could see the relief quickly washing over her face. “I’m glad to hear that, Pete. I want to be accommodating to your needs, but I also need to think about the company. You understand, right?” I only nodded, hoping this was just a courtesy check and nothing more. “I actually just talked with the senior owners of the company, and we’ve all agreed on an open doors sort of policy.” “And that means…?” This being my job and all, I didn’t want any gray areas. “Simply put…” She then sighed and I braced for what I knew was coming. “We want all ARV employees to register with HR. They’ll do a weekly or monthly assess… check-ins just to make sure that everyone here is safe and happy still. Sound okay to you?” Not seeing many other options at this point to refuse, I could only nod my head. We talked for a little while longer and she made sure I was supported in the company, but as soon as I left, I made the unenviable walk down to the HR department. Unfortunately, being the tightknit group we were, my status with ARV was soon known throughout the floor. It didn’t help that an email announcing the new policy was sent out to everyone and being the only AR in the office today, everyone could connect the pieces. By the afternoon, against policy already, I had been bombarded by well-wishers and even a few unwanted hugs… like the ones you would give to comfort a small child. I didn’t like it at all, and by the end of the day, Jeanette could only apologize to me while I grimly and frustratedly packed up my bag to finally go home. “I’m sorry, Pete,” she apologized to me for on behalf of the rest of the office. “That’s not how it was supposed to go down. Let me talk to HR and see if they can…” “It’s fine!” I didn’t mean to cut her off and I grimaced a little, but my side still hurt from one of the last hugs that I received from one of the more elderly and grandmotherly of my colleagues. I was still surprised she hadn’t offered me a cookie or a lollipop at the end for sitting still. At this point, on our next encounter, I wouldn’t have put it past her not to pinch my cheek for whatever reason. Still, Jeanette was my boss, and I didn’t want to leave her on a sour note. “Sorry. I’m just… fine.” Jeanette looked at me wearily but nodded and then gave me my space. As odd as it sounded in my own head, I felt that her experience as a mother to two boys gave her a better insight into what I wanted or didn’t want. Space… not isolation. Comfort… not smothering. Breathing deeply as I exited the building though, and gritting my teeth a little, I made a mental note to not compare myself again to anyone else during this… especially not a pair of teenaged boys. ‘Shit… I could really use a drink tonight…’ I hated that mentality, but a quick call to Oliver and in less than 20 minutes, we were both back dancing at Simon’s with the other ARs. Dancing around tonight, I felt loose in my limbs. Each wave or hands-up motion felt powerful but nothing hard enough anymore to hear anything crack or worry that I might feel it in the morning. To be honest, between that and the Gran Slam drink I had just downed, it was hard not to feel invincible. It was a common enough problem with ARs… one of the reasons why the law seemed to be cracking down more lately, but this feeling… it was just so intoxicating. I wanted more… I wanted… “Hey you.” The voice was gruff but not like they were about to rip my head off. Worried though, I turned around slowly, hoping that I wasn’t about to get tossed out or anything. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I still felt the sense of trepidation… especially when my eyes met with one of the indoor bouncers. Tall, large, and imposing, the man who looked like he hadn’t shaved in at least three days glared down at me, but with a strange twinkle in his eye. “Yes, uh… sir?” I hated sounded so weak in front of everyone, and even though I felt like nothing more than puffing my chest out and staring him up and down in an act of defiance… I knew that my stupid hormones were raging. My more adult brain told me to ignore those impulses as much and for as long as I could. “Your age… what is it?” he asked, squinting and nearly glaring down at me. I wasn’t short or anything, but his sheer mass alone seemed to overcompensate and make me feel downright puny. Looking around, I half-expected the crowd to be parted or gasping or even pointing and mocking me. Instead, most everyone just continued on their merry way. In fact, I even saw a few people nod their heads… almost like they were in agreement on something. Still, with trembling hands, I reached in and got my ID. “28… almost 29.” I tried to sound prideful of my next birthday… but it didn’t work. Thinking about it later even… I felt like I was some kid adding the extra half or three quarters to their age. Every little bit counted back then, and with what I had just done, I realized I was doing the same. The security took my ID, the ‘AR’ ID on it prominently displayed. They had already scanned for that at the door though. Instead, I knew he was looking at the age verification number. Until an AR settled with their strain of the ARV, a sticker would be replaced at the conclusion of one’s appointment each week. For some of the more virulent strains, this meant they could get away with more. Unfortunately for me, as I was about to find out, when I got it updated, it labeled me as 18. The guard shook his head. “No, no. You can’t be in this section. You belong in this one.” His thick and strong finger then pointed to the section designated for those under 18 years old. The minds may have been adult, but their bodies weren’t, and with the courts still in limbo, Simon’s apparently didn’t want to risk any lines being crossed at this point. “But, but… Oliver…” But my own eyes betrayed me as I looked over at my friend. For the past few weeks, I had started to notice that he had taken the lead where we had stood on the floor in Simon’s. I didn’t think anything of it… not it even coinciding with Simon’s crackdown of the age boundaries on the dance floor. After all, I was here to drink, dance, and not think about ARV… even if just for a little while. Now, though, looking on the ground, I saw the clear white line distinguishing our two categories apart from each other. Looking back up at him, I only saw him mouth the words, ‘I’m sorry.’ “Are we going to have a problem here?” the guard asked, knocking me out of my own thoughts. “Uh, n… no,” I responded as quickly and coherently as I could, my head still spinning with the implication of seemingly lost another milestone in this place. It wasn’t too big, but in comparison with how it could be, especially viewing the few patrons here under the age of 11 or 12 and being situated in the lowest category. “Good. Always glad to hear it.” The guard wasn’t a bully or anything… he was just doing his job, and everyone understood that, but alcohol, wild and new hormones, and the loss of status in life can lead to… unpredictable results. “Now, here’s your complimentary new cup. Enjoy.” Handing me a cup in the shape of a seated elephant now, I missed my original lion cup. Suddenly though, I felt a hand grip me on the shoulders and then pull me over into the new section. Looking over, I saw it was Oliver. “Cheers to a new existence, buddy…” His eyes were full of sadness and loss, but his own matching elephant cup… again, something I had only just noticed, he wanted to toast to my new life. Sensing the opportunity to mourn together, several other drinks were moved over to us and several looks of knowing sympathy were issued my way. So, sighing but still accepting my fate, I lifted my glass up and toasted right along with them. Hours later and headed into the morning, I was grateful I didn’t have work, but learning from the past, I had taken a cab to get here from my place. Seeing the time and not wanting to wait to sober up or deal with a cab this late… I called Molly. “Pete?” I could tell she was tired but was still awake. “You okay?” “Molly… Molly, Molly… Molly!” I half-sang in my drunken stupor. I could already hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. “I could use…” I momentarily silently burped away from the phone speaker. Again, a month in, I was learning. “A ride, Mols… could you… uh… I don’ know… could you pick-me-up?” I hated to ask her, and from her second sigh, I could also sense she was regretting this phone call right now… After a moment of silence though, followed by a brief and muted, but still audible curse on the other end, Molly sighed heavily into the phone’s receiver yet again. “Fine, Pete. Just be outside and on the main level. I don’t want to have to find you… again tonight.” The phone then clicked off. Looking back at my expectant companions and fellow ARs, all curious to know how it went with my girlfriend, I nodded… much to the clear relief of everyone in the room. I tried not to take it as a bad omen, but rapidly, I was becoming one of the few with a girlfriend or some other form of significant other in my life. Husband, wife, long-term partner… all yes and prevalent. But otherwise? I was pretty rare now. Still, less than ten minutes later, a bleary-eyed Molly showed up right where she usually did by now. It was a bad habit I’ll admit, but I just loved being taken away by Molly. Something about it just felt… right. If I was any speck of a woman or didn’t care about that sort of thing, the whole situation made me feel like some damsel in distress getting rescued. But here and now, there were no chivalrous acts. There was no dragon to slay or flowers I could give to my would-be hero. Instead, as soon as Molly brought me inside, my head still swimming with all my drinks from tonight and my body not being that fast to heal from it, I made sure to thank Molly in other ways. My first kiss was fast, and while I nearly missed, her cheek made for a nice landing spot. “Stop it, Pete,” Molly said, her annoyed tone coming out loud and clear. Backing away, I worried a little. She rarely said no to that kind of thing… even initiating it herself some nights. “I…” Her head then turned away. ‘Uh oh… definitely not good.’ “Wha’ iss it, Mols? Do you not want to just make out on the couch? No kisses from your boyfriend?” I leaned in and used the best seductive voice I could, but I could already see the ‘no’ on her face before she even shoved me off her. “I…” My heart started to pound within my chest in fear of what she was going to say next. “Pete… you’re acting like some horny teenager. Not the guy I started going out with.” “And you’re saying you don’t like all my new… energy and… stamina?” I said playfully, trying to toy with her and drum up feelings from some of our past nights together. Feeling a little proud, recently, I had kind of worn her out. It was a major boon… or at least I thought it was. For her part, Molly blushed a little, and I could see her resolve weakened ever so slightly, but I saw that her inner strength and reason for her anger still burned. “I…” She shook her head, and a scowl took the place of her previous blush. “That’s not the point, Pete. Dang it!” “But I thought…” I was confused for a moment about why this moment would be any different. Argument plus kissing equaled making up and solving our issues. That was still the case… ‘Right?’ “Well… you thought wrong.” I could see a pain in her eyes… like she didn’t want to say the things she was or feel them either, but again, her resolve stuck firm. “We met when you were an adult and I want to believe that you’re still you, but…” She faltered for a moment. “But what?” I asked, trying to seize the initiative of the lull. Molly paused for a moment, and I could see her wrestling with her own thoughts for a moment before breaking. “But you’re just acting like the age you look like now! Maybe not completely, but you seem like a teenager! No hard-won discussion with me… just kissing something like that maybe it would make everything go away. I mean… do you really expect me to clean up your messes after every time you go to Simon’s? I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, Pete… not your mother!” I saw a pallor take hold of Molly at that exact moment. Her feelings were justified… even I could admit to that, but the underlying resentment was a chord that had be meaning to strike for a while now. Now that it had and her words couldn’t be taken back, a pause hovered in the room between us. “I…” I was at a loss for words as well to say anything, and when Molly tried, she seemed to have been struck mute as well. It was a pickle for both of us. Fortunately, and maybe it was alcohol from earlier in the night in my system still or my ‘teenaged mind’ like Molly was accusing me of, but I felt just enough confidence to try one last ditch effort. So, I leaned in, and I kissed her right on the lips. Deep, passionate, and sincere. It wasn’t just some peck like some back and forth between two frightened people, but one of love and compassion. It was the moment of our shared past… no matter what lay before us now. The future seemed uncertain, but I hoped that at least for tonight, my kiss would work. At first though, it didn’t. Her hands brushed against me and even gave a little shove to my chest. Knowing her however, I could feel that she wasn’t giving it her all. I would have stopped right then, but the lack of effort and my tiny break away only to result in her then pulling me in close, kept me going. And going we did. It was small at first. A few shuffles around the room, some light hair strokes, and even some well-placed massages or areas we both knew each other couldn’t resist. One by one though, our clothes began to shed ungracefully but ever so passionately. She seemed eager to put in as much energy as she could to make this work… I used my youthful exuberance and my younger stamina to keep at it. I thought our time would never end, but some time later, wrapped in each other’s arms and completely spent, we stopped and fell asleep. Waking up the next morning, I was once again greeted by the lovely sensation of a complete absence from my back pain. I had injured my lower left muscles a few years ago, and while it was ‘healed,’ each morning came with an onslaught of stiffness. Rising from the bed to go find Molly, her side conspicuously bare when I turned to cuddle in the morning with her like we usually did, I was at least comforted by the fact that I felt only refreshed and renewed. After taking a quick shower, next coming into her apartment’s kitchen, despite being bare on the walls, the smells of breakfast cooking on the stove quickly wafted over to my nose. “Mmm… smell’s amazing, Mols.” Molly briefly turned to me and smiled before turning back to one of the pans on the stove, quickly flipping over the three pancakes that were now ready. “Thanks, Pete. Always good to hear one’s cooking is appreciated.” There was a genuine warmth about her wording, but almost a reserved sadness as well. Seeing everything already set, as I sat down, I wondered if I should be worried or not. Last night still weighed heavily on my mind. Still, Molly was no barbarian, and she did have a big heart. It was one of the reasons I loved her, but it also gave her a terrible poker face sometimes. Gratefully, she was a horrible liar, and despite a few hiccups around other’s birthdays, she was also terrible at keeping secrets. So, even as she finished the last of her blueberries and I crunched the last of my bacon, I knew something was coming I wasn’t going to like. Finally, she set her fork down and looked back at me after finishing up our small morning chit chat. “Pete… you wanna go for a walk this morning?” “Molly… it’s December,” I noted, while also double checking the calendar she had posted nearby. “It’s going to be freezing out there this morning. Last night was bad enough getting to Simon’s… I think.” Molly shook her head. “Nope. Last night wasn’t even that bad… or didn’t you notice you weren’t wearing a coat?” I decided this time just to keep my mouth shut. “Right. I’ll take that as a no, but we’re having an unusual warm front. Probably go away by tomorrow night, but might as well enjoy it, right?” I couldn’t deny that. I was always more of a guy who enjoyed the summer months more than the winter months. Even around here, they never got too severe, but I still made sure to take a jacket anyways as Molly and left her apartment after cleaning the kitchen up. Throughout it all, I still got the feeling that an axe was hanging precariously over my neck. Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t go away outside. The air was still a little brisk, but the spots fully illuminated in the sun did feel pretty nice. Like a moth to a flame, I tended to gravitate toward them a little more… though admittedly, with my younger physiology, I didn’t quite feel the need that I had over the past few years. ‘Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel the need for a coat last night?’ Still, getting to a park bench, Molly sat first and stared out over the park. Nearby, kids played on the now usually empty playground sets for this time of year. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones to take advantage of the nicer weather, but instead of smiling at them like she usually did when she saw kids having a good time, Molly only sighed. “Pete… I think we have a problem…” “We do?” I tried to play dumb, but I knew there was no point in denying it. Our passionate session last night was amazing, but like an island in a tossing sea, it was an isolated point amongst the rest of the chaos. Molly nodded her head and didn’t call me out on my forced fakery. “Look around. I mean… don’t you see it? Don’t you see what’s happening here?” Being honest with myself, I actually hadn’t seen much this morning. My dread mixed with basking in the glow of the sun had partially blinded me to the world around Molly and I. Sure, I still noticed if I was about to run into something or someone, but there was still a gap in what I perceived. Looking around now however, I saw what she was referring to. It was the stares from nearly everyone else. Being an AR victim though, I was getting used to those. For anyone who knew me, my appearance looked like a near miracle. But these people were giving looks of disapproval. I was so confused at first, but when I saw that several were looking down at how close Molly and I were, I realized that we now looked like a mid to upper 20s woman sitting with an underage man… if you could even call my physical looks that anymore. I wanted to tell them to mind their own business or explain what was happening, but I knew that would only draw more attention to us. “Oh…” “Yeah,” Molly sighed. “And what? You got an early teen prognosis?” I nodded solemnly, not liking where she was going with all this. “We’re going to look even worse pretty soon.” “Odd, but not illegal,” I pointed out. But Molly only sighed again and looked even worse. “Yes, Pete. I know the standards they’re proposing of installing the minimum age of 14 for ARs, but… I just…” “Wait…” I interrupted. “Are you breaking up with me?” I didn’t want to ask the question, and I could already feel the lump in my throat, but I had to know. Not knowing at this point would have probably just been worse. Molly paused… too long for comfort honestly. It sewed a seed of doubt about everything between us that just didn’t want to be uprooted, no matter what I kept telling myself. Still, Molly shook her head. “No, Pete. I just…” She paused again, but this time, I couldn’t just keep quiet again. “Just tell me, Molly!” I almost yelled at her. It was completely accidental, but I could already see a few heads snap over to us and I could feel the heat of embarrassment already flushing my cheeks. “Sorry… I just… please don’t hold back.” Still looking a little shocked, Molly took a moment to process everything but ultimately nodded. “Very well, Pete.” She then took a huge deep breath in. “I think we need to go on a small break.” The words almost instantly took any willpower or strength I had within me. I felt I was still strong, but maybe it was the raging teenaged hormones or something, but I was feeling the keen sting of those few simple but powerful words. Like the echoing of doom, I felt perilously close to imminent danger in our relationship. Breaks were never a good sign. “Before we say anything more though… just to clarify, I want to still be there for you if you need it, but we can’t deny things are changing for you and subsequently between us as well. I wish it wasn’t. Gosh, do I really wish that… but I can’t change things, and I think we just need to take… well, a breather.” It was like a stab in my gut. I felt like in a single night, I was losing one of my sturdiest anchors keeping me tethered to my old life. With my job hanging in the balance, my social life now consisting of other ARs and Simon’s after most of my previous friends had already gotten shacked by the mists themselves, Molly felt like my constant. Now, though, I felt everything was turning to a pile of shifting sands. At the same time though, I couldn’t call her a liar. She was right. I was changing and because I was one of the two people in this relationship, that meant that it was changing as well. I didn’t want it to, but I didn’t want to be naïve either. So, feeling no way that I could challenge her, I only had one question. “I understand… I…” I sighed and took a deep breath to center myself. “When do you want to start this… break?” Molly looked at me with sad eyes herself. “I’m going to Milan in two days for another photo shoot. Let me know if you need anything… like an emergency or big news, but I think we should start today. Make a good break of this and then come back together. I think we both need to clear our heads and come back at… this, with fresher heads.” I wanted to tell her ‘Okay…’ or maybe even to cry, scream, or yell. I had my hormones raging and I was sad to see our relationship end up in this state. I wanted to try and fix everything or at least talk about it first. Instead, my cellphone rang. Looking down, I saw the one name I wanted to see less than all the others. Showing Molly, she understood and gestured for me to take the call. “Hello? Gina? It’s Peter. You there?” “Pete! Hey there, sweetie! Having a good morning I hope…” Gina seemed chipper but there was some note of hesitation in her voice I couldn’t place. My palms immediately began to sweat. “Uh… hard to say, but… Gina… what’s up? Everything okay? You really don’t call me unless there’s an appointment confirmation or you need blood work. So… what’s going on here?” Right then, the world seemed to slow down as I awaited her answer. “Umm… let me get Dr. Faulkner on the line actually,” she said apologetically. “He needs to… to give you some information… an update.” I started to question everything up to that point as the ground was now dropping out from under my feet. Gina called me, yes, but never Dr. Faulkner. Hearing a little shuffling in the background, I then heard the voice that I was already starting to fear. “Hey, Peter,” Dr. Faulkner said somberly. None of this helped me with my previous somberness. Dr. Faulkner, sighing before he spoke, didn’t help either. “Well, we… I need you to come back in. We need to talk.” I think my heart stopped for a second, but I knew I needed more information before I got too deep. “Umm, sure, doc… but I’m being serious here… is everything okay?” There was a pause on the other end of the phone. My heart pounded in my chest, and I was almost starting to feel dizzy. “Well, I’m not sure how to put this,” Dr Faulkner said after a little while longer, doing nothing to help my nerves, “but there might have been an error. Uh, in your diagnosis, I mean.” If the world suddenly formed a crack in it to swallow me whole… I don’t think I would have minded so much right then. “Uh… E… error? Like wro… wrong age, o… or…?” Dr. Faulkner sighed. “I’m sorry, Pete. New laws and all,” he admitted. “Sadly, I can’t tell you this stuff anymore without someone else present, like a family member or someone similar. Plus, it all has to be done in person… preferably sooner rather than later.” ‘Sooner rather than later…’ Those were words I never wanted to hear from a doctor ever again. Meaning so many things, I tried to block off my emotions as much as I could and just stick to the cold-hearted facts. “Okay… wh… when do you need me to c… come in?” “Tomorrow.” I was taken aback by his abruptness. No hesitation… no debate even. It was a disconcerting notion coming from someone who was likely already seeing my results on his desk and now needing me to come in so soon. “And Pete? Bring a family member. Immediate family… like your mom, would be best if she can swing it, understand?” I swallowed hard at the implications. “I’ll be there.” It was dry and straightforward. Anymore, and I honestly thought I would start yelling or crying on the spot. “Good,” Dr. Faulkner said, seemingly satisfied that their message had been conveyed and that I would be to his office without further delay. “See you tomorrow. Take care now. Bye.” “Bye.” The phone clicked off and my phone’s screen went black again. A misdiagnosis was terrifyingly common, but most of the time it would be for an age older than originally diagnosed. But Dr. Faulkner’s tone and the immediacy of the appointment screamed that it was likely something else… something worse. Molly shifted on the picnic bench and quietly asked, “So, what’s up, Pete? Everything okay?” I didn’t want to answer her. A phone call from Dr. Faulkner at this stage and with the tone he was exhibiting… I didn’t even want to think about it. Looking at Molly, eagerly waiting for what was happening and our relationship already on the rocks with everything else, I knew I couldn’t hide the truth from her forever. “It was Dr. Faulkner… I need to come in… soon.” “Oh.” It was just one word, but liking the clanging of a bell of doom, I felt it reverberate within my soul. ‘Oh’ was right. It could be anything at this stage, but doctors rarely called ARs for good news this early in the morning. 10 4
Dirty Boy Posted February 4 Posted February 4 Poor Peter, the doctor had really bad timing. You can't blame Molly though.
Operational Systems Posted February 4 Posted February 4 I do blame molly. She wants to settle down and be with a more mature guy who can cover her needs, where as Pete appeals to things she doesn't like about herself as she gets into her later twenties - his dangerous youth, his reckless attitude. Shell take the sex but thats opportunism. She thinks shes too old for this nonsense. She doesn't want to be a mommy to Pete but she doesn't want to be a youngin dancing around bars and youthmaxing. Watch she will go to Europe find some rich guy in his 50s to be her sugar daddy and think she hit gold. Meanwhile her boyfriend will start approaching diapers, and she'll have missed out on these last few months to really be there for a person she allegedly cares about. I get it Pete is acting like a teenager and it sucks he has a major disease that will get progressively worse. Time to bail on him for another guy I guess. 1
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