Numb

Chapter 1
Numb - Whole Story

---

Chapter Description: Edited for typos.

---

Thursday – Evening

“And...now?“

“Ty, I dare you to open that damn door.“ Dylan’s tone and eyes left nothing to the imagination. He was serious.

“We’ve been waiting here for”, he checked his watch, “over 5 minutes, and I haven’t heard a single sound coming from outside.”

“Besides guys”, Lucy stepped between them, “I doubt that a gas can’t find a way to get in this wooden shed. I haven’t heard or seen anything, too. It’s safe. Open that door, Dylan.”

“Fine, but if the next explosion sends one of you right into a hospital, I won’t pay you a single visit.”

Dylan opened the cracking door of the shed.

Outside, it was as beautiful as before, though Dylan wasn’t paying attention to mother nature’s work. His eyes were focused on the ground, especially on the ’puddles’ of water that were spread over the forest clearing. As harmless as it might look now, just minutes ago the 3 adolescents had run away from shallow water that had turned into geysers in a blink of an eye.

Whatever happened, the water seemed to start boiling and a foul smelling gas emitted from the sputtering liquid. For a moment, the clearing looked like Yellowstone. Now everything was quiet, as if nothing ever happened.

“Ha, told ya! And lil’ Dylan here took a dump in his pants...” Tyson punched him on his arm. His words only received a glare from Dylan.

“If I recall, it was you Ty, who cried like a girl.”, Lucy exclaimed to Tyson’s shame. “Whatever, does anyone know what happened here? This is no volcano...things like that shouldn’t happen in a forest.”

“Smelled like sulphur, if you ask me. Well, not really, but definitely as worse as sulphur.”

“So you were concerned by the smell?! It was the hot water that tried to fry my legs that caught my attention.”

“I’m with Dylan.", Lucy declared. "The gas was...strange. I mean, is it just me or was that stuff glimmering violet? Doesn’t matter I guess, after all we’re okay. Except for Tyson...there I’m not quite sure.”

The blond haired boy grinned at the comment: “I love you too, Lucy.”

“Are you two finished? Could we go home now? It’s almost 19:00 and I don’t want to miss dinner”, Dylan said and with that, the gang set in motion.

-

At nightfall, the thoughts of Lucy and Tyson would probably be on more important things, like Facebook, upcoming senior exams or a midnight session of video gaming. Dylan, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the clearing at night.

–--

Friday – Night

Dylan lay in his bed.

He looked up at the ceiling and just thought. It was a ritual that Dylan now followed for some years every day before sleep.

Images of school were in his mind, of teachers, friends and grades. Images of the last hard hitting party. Suddenly the Star Wars theme played its tune, then he remembered that his family would visit Saturday for the monthly barbecue. Other family traditions sneaked into his brain, Star Wars beeing replaced with the sound of screaming cousins and condescendingly talking grandmas.

Then there was a smell.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was this smell. For a moment, Dylan wasn’t able to identify it. Only when the sound of boiling water and the image of light shining through the cracks of a wooden shed entered his mind, Dylan knew where he was.

“I spend 17 years, my whole life, in this town. As a kid, I played tag and ’sword fight’ in the woods and with 14 I smoked my first and last cigarette under those trees. I know that place, but I never seen or smelled anything like that.”

Gas that was - as it seems - exploding must come from somewhere, Dylan thought. Did it hide there all the time? Have they angered the holy spirits of the forest and provoked their wrath to come upon them?

A look over to his right. 0:13 – time to get some rest.

He turned his head to the cool side of the pillow and soon drifted off into sleep.

–--

Morning

The first sunlight of the day tickled Lucy out of her dreams. It wasn’t the rosy kind of waking up, not the refreshed feeling you get on Sundays when you’re well-rested.

It was the feeling of getting thrown into another day, the last day of school in this week. The soon approaching weekend might give you some power, but at least since Thursday the average high school student had been worn out.

And so was Lucy.

Rising from bed was worse enough, now she also had to shower and prepare herself for school life and its huge amount of judging bitches. She would rather go to school like this, without all the effort. But, you know, social conventions and stuff...

Lucy was finished with most of things, when she caught a glimpse of her make-up in the bathroom and gave it a critical gaze. Was it worth it? Was life worth anything right now? After all it was...school. She shuddered at the thought, even more at her incredible laziness. But, nonetheless she took the utensils in her hand.

Lucy had the dumbest grin on her face as she smeared lipstick all over her cheeks and forehead. The 18 year old’s skin was a mess of pink and red, only topped by the content toothy smile that lacked both her incisors.

Then there was nothing. There was only Lucy staring in the mirror, lipstick in hand and not a trace of make-up on her face. She could swear that, whatever it was, had really happened just seconds ago. It just felt too realistic.

But there was still nothing, and Lucy couldn’t imagine to have actually played with her make-up like a kindergartner.

“Okay...calm down, everything’s right. ...Damn, what was that?”

Lucy was shocked. Her hands were shivering and calming down wasn’t possible. She thought about the short image over and over. It had branded itself into her brain.

Looking at her shivering hands, Lucy knew that she would have to pass on the make-up today. But that wasn’t her concern.

Still in deep thought on what she just witnissed, Lucy backed away from the bathroom mirror, not taking her eyes from the deceptive glass.

“Okay girl, calm down”

She breathed deeply in search for a little bit of relief.

“That’s just your mind playing tricks on you, because of exams next week and...and all the other shit.”

She took a look at the clock next to the mirror. 7:41. It was getting late for school.

A final glance into the mirror, then she quickly turned the corner to her room and opened the dresser in search for some proper clothes.

“What the...?!” What she saw now was worse than the mirror.

The contents of Lucy’s dresser had changed into something very different. Where just yesterday had rested jeans, tops of several rock bands and bras, were now yellow sundresses and pink corduroy overalls. But not even in her size. They were much, much too small. The child who would wear these could hardly be taller than a meter!

Lucy’s mouth stood wide open as she scanned through the piles of clothing. Not a single piece would fit her. However this was possible, the dresser surely belonged to a little girl, or rather to the mother that was dressing that girl day in and out.

Lucy took one of the corduroy overalls in her hands and drove her fingers through the ribbed fabric. They were real. She wasn’t just seeing things, now she also felt them. Their mere presence scared Lucy to death.

Her hands now shook even worse. She scanned the rest of the room in search for something else that was off. But again, there was nothing

.

Lucy wanted to lay the overalls back when she noticed that the clothes in her hands were no longer pink or corduroy. The tiniest of moments was enough to transform everything back to normal. The tiniest of moments she took her eyes from the dresser. In her hands were now denim jeans, her size.

Lucy could do nothing, neither getting into her clothes for school nor dropping the jeans. She knew that she wasn’t good in this. Her mind was in the process of shutting down.

Instead she noticed something else, a sense that started tingling. A smell that struck her as quickly as it left again. She looked at the jeans, and led them to her nose.

Lucy took a deep breath and let the familiar smell creep into her mind...

–--

Night

The world is strange, blind and numb.

Dylan is sitting. That’s the first thing he knows and feels.

“You know, there’s this thing called ’Internet’...works fine, trust me.”

It’s Ty! He’s lying on a thick branch of the huge tree in front of Dylan. He must have climbed up there, but when did that happen? He can’t remember.

“What? Are you now too lazy to get your ass off the couch for your friends? If possible, I prefer this over ’the internet’.”

This time it’s Lucy. Her voice is much closer. She stands right next to Dylan, and because of him sitting, her tall words feel somehow more energetic than usual.

What am I sitting on? A look down – it’s a stump. It matches the tree branch under Tyson.

They must be in a forest, though Dylan can’t remember going there. And there’s nothing else. Only Lucy, Ty and himself, the tree Ty’s sitting on and the stump.

Dylan isn’t able to actually see the forest around them, neither the leaves on the ground, nor the sun in the sky. But it’s all there. He feels it, knows where he is, but still it feels...surreal. Like a virtual world that stopped loading.

He’s getting up. It feels like a movie. He controls himself, but he doesn’t.

“You heard him, let’s go.”

Lucy said it, and Ty jumps down from his branch.

"Did I say something?", Dylan wonders.

All of the sudden there’s a crash, an explosion, a loud noise. It comes from below, right next to Dylan. Lucy stands behind him, he feels her presence.

A smell reaches his nose and for a moment, Dylan sees the forest around him falling into pieces. But it doesn’t. There’s just water, strong enough to fight against gravity. It’s so loud...

And the smell, the smell is visible. It’s slow, it’s a color floating in the air, and it reeks like nothing recognizable to Dylan.

He turns around. Lucy is right behind him, and behind her is Tyson, running to a shed even farther away.

“Come on!” Lucy screams, and again Dylan feels himself moving, this time fast. Seconds and they are in a shed. Lucy closes a wooden door.

The shed is small and empty. It doesn’t look safe, and Dylan doesn’t feel safe. The cracks on the door and walls make it seem like outside is only light. But there isn’t...?

Dylan sees them talking, Lucy and Ty. He sees that their mouths move around, but he doesn’t hear any noise, neither from them, nor from outside. Even his own breath is gone. It’s completely silent. And the silence is terrifying.

Dylan looks down, concentrates on the ground and covers his ears with both hands, as if to block a sound that isn’t there. He taps with his foot, trys to take that hidden pressure from him. Then something enters his vision, and everything around him feels less tight.

It’s a hand, tender and inviting, waiting for Dylan to unite it with his own.

But the hand is not up. It hangs down. Is this right?

He grabs for it and sees how huge it is. It swallows his own hand, his hand that looks so very little in comparison. Is this right?

He looks up. Two very tall figures stand left and right beside him. Lucy, the giant on the right, is smiling down at him. She looks...motherly. And her hand feels that way, too.

Dylan smiles back.

The moment of security ends when they are suddenly back, the sound that wasn’t there and the pressure that hid from him. But now they are real, no longer invisible. The sound gets closer, the pressure rises. This time, Dylan doesn’t block his ears. He begins to scream.

The noise that wasn’t there, it’s water. Not the shooting kind from outside, this time it’s flowing like waves, getting louder by the second. Before the pressure gets unbearable, the giant Tyson opens the door, and with that invites wave after wave of water to embrace Dylan.

His eyes fall shut...and open on the other side.

–--

Friday – Noon

11:20.

No sooner had Tyson entered school than 11:20. His alarm should have woken him up, and it’s not that it had not been turned on by him, Tyson just didn’t get up. However that’s possible, Tyson always finds a way for his laziness to take over as it seemed.

Then he missed two hours of chemistry and two of German literature, who cares? Ty definitely did not. He didn’t spend 8 years in the same boring school to have something like that bother him.

What bothered him was the lack of friends in school. Just yesterday, Ty was in the woods with Dylan and Lucy, but now he couldn’t find them anywhere.

“I go to school even though I already missed 4 hours, and they don’t even appear at all. Suckers...”

It was still break. Tyson’s 5th period would start soon and he was happy that it was geography. At least something he liked and a subject with a cool teacher, Mr. Weber.

Tyson marched through the whole school, greeting some of the fellows in his senior classes, but nobody had seen Lucy and Dylan today.

If his friends weren’t there, Ty thought, then he could as well wait at the room for the last 5 minutes. He shouldered his backpack and was about to go to the great stairs, when he heard someone behind him.

“If that isn’t little piss-pants...”

The male voice was cracking in mid-sentence. That boy couldn’t be older than 14!

“Is this real?! Is that punk calling ME little?”

Tyson turned around, slowly, for effect. But when he finally faced the 8th grader, the boy was...big, real big. He was easily a good head taller than him. And not only that boy, his stupidly grinning friends behind him were also what seemed like over 2 meters tall. The balustrade to Ty’s right, the framed pictures on the wall left, everything had risen toward the sky. Anger turned in Tyson’s face to a mix of confusion and fear.

Faster than Ty could react, the giant 14 year old pushed him back.

He hit the ground hard and it felt surprisingly painful. How could that punk be so strong?! He looked up at the laughing teens who praised themselves for their bullying. From this angle, these 8th graders now looked even more like giants.

Tyson pulled himself into a standing position. He wanted to confront them, whether they were somehow bigger than him or not. But his surroundings had already changed again. The balustrade, the pictures, even the 8th graders looked like always...smaller and obviously no match to him.

The girl that had a moment ago watched the whole scene and was surprised by the sudden attack, was now checking her smart phone as if nothing ever happened. The boys turned around and headed elsewhere, no longer concerned with the situation. And not only that...Tyson’s pain was gone as quickly as it came.

“I’m going nuts...definitely.”

Ty looked around the hallway, the stairs, the cafeteria in the basement floor beyond the balustrade. Everything was normal.

And...everything was practically deserted. Did the bell ring? How long did he lay on the floor?

Tyson took his backpack again and rushed to the great stairs.

The 1st floor was at least a bit more lively, with some kids and a group of teenagers still waiting for their late teachers to arrive. Mr. Weber was on time, Ty was sure. He was always on time.

-

’B-21 Geography’. It was one of these doors without a knob outside, so he would have to knock and wait for Weber to open it. Not the coolest thing when you’re too late.

He knocked and waited. Weber was a good guy, he would understand it. Ty heard the knob inside turn, but before he could see the door swing open, the worst kind of headache shot into his temples and forced him to close his eyes out of pain. The world had suddenly gone black and he felt like his whole system was rebooting.

But it lasted for only a second, a mere blink of an eye, then Tyson could see again. And what he saw was frightening familiar.

He looked up to meet Weber’s eyes and felt like a midget, standing as tall as the teacher’s lower chest. The students, people he knew from geography, were only slightly smaller than Ty...and they were sitting!

“Well...” The tall man stretched it out, sounding impatient.

“Uhhm” Ty was shocked. What was happening to him? He was about to say something, anything, but even the sound he muttered was...small. His voice didn’t sound right, not at all!

Some students tried to look past their teacher.

“Young man, I would say this is the wrong classroom.”

Two girls chuckled as they looked into Tyson’s eyes. They laughed at him!

“Take a look at your schedule, I’m sure you will find your class.”

Ty didn’t know what to say. What Weber said sounded...right. He decided to just nod at the lecture.

Apparently, Weber was eager to continue his lesson, because no sooner had Ty given him an answer, the door threw shut right in front of his face. “What a dick...”, Tyson thought.

But he had other problems. Looking at the high hanging keyhole of ’B-21’, Ty noticed that everything was still huge. And by now, he had the feeling that not everything had grown, but that he had gotten smaller.

Ty ran from this corridor to the next. He had to find a bathroom to look at a mirror, to examine what was wrong with him.

Upon opening the door, Ty noticed something unusual for the first time in years.

The long mirror on the wall hang high on one side and low on the other for the younger classes. Because of this, Ty felt not only small, but like one of the kids.

He dropped his schoolbag, looked in the mirror...and nearly fainted at how right his feeling was.

What looked back at him WAS a kid.

The boy looked small. That was the first thing he had in mind. If anything else, that boy’s face was cute.

Very light freckles all across his cheeks and nose, a small chin and kind of pudgy skin along his jaws, both lacking a single spark of facial hair. The hair on his head was blonder, longer and especially curlier than usual. The mouth and nose, everything looked somehow less defined, though not completely childish.

But this boy was a child, a kid not long in his double digits. This boy wasn’t in 12th grade...this boy belonged in 5th grade, with all the other kids that were in elementary not a year ago.

This boy was him.

Now it dawned on Ty what had happened in the hallway and what Weber actually meant.

He was bullied by 14 year olds who apparently were 3 grades higher than him and his geography teacher actually told him to look for his 5th grade classroom.

“No...nonononoNO! This is...nuts!”

He looked at the collar of the short-sleeved, blue-striped shirt he definitely didn’t dress in this late morning. It wasn’t buttoned, and underneath was a Star Wars T-Shirt that added up to the look of an 11 year old. Just then he also noticed that his simple gray bag had transformed into a bulky blue schoolbag with a belt adorning the shoulder straps.

At least his shoes and jeans looked casual, they were just in kid size like the rest of his clothes.

“H-hello?” Yes, his voice matched his body. It was higher and childish, years away from his voice’s breaking.

Tyson’s eyes widened in the mirror. He looked at the bathroom entrance and then rushed to one of the stalls, closing it behind him. He unbuttoned his jeans, opened the zipper and let them slide down to his ankles.

His eyes were locked on the tight blue briefs around his groin that proved his feeling; his boxers vanished into the ether.

But Tyson was more concerned with what lay beyond the fabric. He pulled at the front of the elastic waistband and looked at what was left of his member.

No hair and no size that would anywhere indicate that he was still an adult. No, Tyson was sure, each cell of his body was now absolutely prepubescent.

He buttoned his pants up and left the stall.

"No...NO!", Tyson screamed at himself.

He wouldn’t let this happen to him. He won’t just give up 7 years of his life and every form of maturity they had in store for him. He won’t accept to be treated like a kid. Whatever people thought, he didn’t belong in 5th grade and he won’t search for a damn classroom.

He will search for a solution.

“Lucy and Dylan were worried about the gas yesterday, and now they don’t appear in school. What if they were right?”

He fidgeted in the pockets of his jeans, but couldn’t find his cell phone. It must have had vanished like the rest. Now he couldn’t even warn them.

He had to go home, see what he could do and call his friends from there. Tyson took to his heels and left the school.

–--

Morning

Saliva darkened the carpet in Lucy’s bedroom, slowly dribbling out of her mouth as she slept on the floor. The scent of the overalls in her dresser had knocked her out completely.

She opened her eyes and felt the warmth of the morning sun on her back. With its warm summer shine, it bathed Lucy in a sea of light. The bare skin on her back almost felt hot.

She didn’t notice the saliva hanging from her chin and the corner of her mouth until she moved her face into the puddle on the carpet. It felt wet and cold and...icky. She raised her head from the floor and, with sleepy eyes, moved a hand to her face to wipe the wetness off.

As skin touched skin on her smooth cheeks, Lucy thought they felt...strange, almost swollen. Surely not right. Besides that, she must have been almost naked...

Now Lucy remembered. Her dresser! Her face in the mirror!

In the motion of standing up, she moved onto hands and knees. That’s when she took the first glance at her room.

Right in front of her, where once were orange curtains at the sides of the room’s window, were now pink curtains that looked like belonging to a Barbie princess set, and Disney characters painted on the glass. The white wallpaper that once framed the window now had the color of Tinkerbell’s dress.

It looked like the room of a fairy princess. A 5 year old fairy princess.

Lucy did not take her glance from the wall as she stood up. This was still her room, it was just totally decorated for a little girl.

The bed to her right was filled with sheets, a blanket and a bunch of pillows all in the green and pink color mix. On top of the pillows were several plush toys, from brown teddy bears to pink My Little Ponies.

On the other side of the room were two eye-catching things. A pink table with little plates and tea pots and, where her casual brown dresser should be, a green dresser with the same Disney characters painted all across it. But while the table looked normal, the dresser was...huge.

“Wait...”

Lucy turned to the door, then back to the window. Other than earlier this morning, Lucy was barely bigger than the doorknob and on eye-level with the window sill!

“I-I am the little girl!”

The look of panic appeared in her eyes again. She looked down to examine her body.

Her breasts...they were gone!

Her chest was flat. There was really no sign of bodily maturity. The firm C-cups she once was so proud of made place for the little pink dots that decorated her little girls’ chest. Underneath was a little belly, looking unbelievably smooth all over. The defined waist and pelvis that once highlighted her curvy body was gone, too.

She didn’t look like a woman, she looked like a girl that wasn’t anywhere near puberty, with a body that could as well belong to a boy.

Without a bra - which probably vanished out of uselessness - the only kind of clothing Lucy wore were the transformed version of her panties; little strawberry-red knickerbockers with an Arielle logo adorning them.

Lucy could imagine how she looked underneath, and she really didn’t want to see it. The situation already freaked her out.

Touching her hair, Lucy noticed how much shorter it was than before. It now only got to her shoulders. But worse, it felt and looked, as far as she could see in the corner of her eyes, frizzy and brighter than before. Lucy always had blonde hair, but now it looked so very light...

In an instant, she had pictures of herself in mind. A little figure with tousled light blonde hair, no breasts, no curves, no sex appeal, only red knickerbockers and a cute face. The very essence of innocence.

She had to change back! This couldn’t be real. She didn’t want to be the room’s fairy princess, with her plush toys and tea parties. She wanted to grow up again!

Fast as the wind she ran to her door, where she had to raise her hand for the first time in years to handle the doorknob. The upper hallway that always appeared to be kind of narrow had grown wider and especially higher. Lucy turned the corner to the bathroom.

“Shoot!”

Lucy’s hands closed her mouth shut. “My voice...”, she thought. “I sound like...like I look!”

But it wasn’t really her voice that troubled her. It was her choice of words. She thought about insults, about a word with ’s’, and one with ’f’ and with ’d’, but ’shoot’, ’fudge’ and the one daddy used with ’d’ sounded wrong.

Daddy?!

Lucy shook her head. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with everything? And what was wrong with the door?!!

She tried again and again, but the door wouldn’t move, even though she turned and pulled the knob the entire time!

“Stooopid!”

Suddenly, Lucy heard a key turn. The bathroom door in front of her swung open to the inside, revealing someone she really didn’t want to see in her condition.

“God, Lucy! The door was locked, no reason to throw a tantrum.”

It was Sarah, Lucy’s 15 year old sister. But while Sarah was meant to be 3 years younger than her, Lucy now looked up at a giant that was, judging from her room, body and height difference, 10 years her senior.

In 15 years, Sarah never looked scarier than in this moment. And because of the stern tone in her voice, Lucy really was afraid of the giant, angry looking sister in front of her.

Sarah noticed how dumbstruck and frightened her sister looked. She bent down to her knees to be on eye level with Lucy.

“I’m not mad at you, Lu-lu.”

She suddenly sounded so friendly and encouraging. The smile on Sarah’s face felt like the morning sun to Lucy. She didn’t even notice the use of her old childhood name.

“You know, it’s Saturday, and I know a little girl who just loves to watch cartoons on Saturdays.”

Lucy beamed with joy. “Yah! ’Toons!”

“Pssst.”, Sarah put her index finger to her mouth, “We don’t want to wake Mommy, right?”

Sarah didn’t expect an answer, the case was clear. She hoisted Lucy up into her arms.

Sarah was right, of course they didn’t want to wake mommy! But something bothered her. Something that wasn’t so simple. Something about Sarah.

Sarah moved downstairs with Lucy in her arms. Right! She said Saturday, but it isn’t Saturday! Friday comes after Thursday, she learned that in kindergarten. Lucy smiled.

“Silly Sarah. It’s Friday!”

But isn’t Friday green? Ms. Maggy said all green days on the wall are kinderdays. But this isn’t a kinderday.

Lucy was confused. Was that the not-simple thing? No, it was about...’big’!

She was big. And Sarah was like she were little.

“Am I big?” This was confusing. “I’m big. Then Sarah’s biggerer.” That must be it. "Sarah was like she was little because I’m big and she’s biggerer."

She was happy again, her head now felt good.

Lil’ Lucy was in such deep thought that she didn’t notice how fast they got in front of the TV. She also didn’t know when her thumb slipped into her mouth. She just knew that she rhythmically sucked on the wet digit and that it made her feel good.

Meanwhile, Sarah was busy with the remote. She knew where Lucy’s preschool channels were and decided on Nick Jr, though she didn’t know the series that was running. Something about mermaids and mermen children with bright voices, featuring different ethnic groups for the typical educational crap.

“Yeeeah, Bubble Guppies!”, the 5 year old on the couch yelled.

“Well, if she’s happy...”, Sarah thought with a smile. “Have fun. Come upstairs if you need something, but don’t wake Mommy.”

With that, Sarah moved upstairs and left the living room door ajar.

“Okay...”, she heard Lucy say delayed, obviously distracted by the show.

-

What is real, and what is not?

The LCD in the Glover’s household had never seen channels like Nick Jr, and the last time they played it was Sarah who was sitting in front of the tube TV. Lucy’s thumb had not visited her mouth for over 10 years, though it felt absolutely natural for her to welcome it. Sarah was always the youngest, but she seemed so used to being the big one, didn’t she? Lucy’s little breakdowns – routine. For both of them.

While Lucy was busy with her show, her brain worked on full speed. Habits and beliefs were deleted and replaced with new ones. Difficult thoughts would soon leave her for good to make place for other, simpler things. Strings would be shut down and others would activate. And at the end, her distant memories will slowly but surely fade, until her remembrance of the strange smell slips from her grasp like fine sand in the wind.

The little girl on the couch didn’t care. Lucy just lay on her tummy, legs bent high in the air while she hummed the Bubble Guppies’ song around her thumb.

–--

Morning

Dylan woke up with a jolt.

“Shit...”

He felt dampness all over his body. Sweat hung on his forehead, soaked his arm pits and ran down his legs. He felt like he pissed himself.

Though he didn’t expect anything, he pulled away his blanket and felt up his groin and the mattress underneath. His underpants were just damp, like his shirt. He must have had a really bad dream, but he couldn’t remember anything about it.

According to the little bit of light that fell through his blinds, it was morning. Late morning.

Dylan looked to his right – 10:47.

“Damn...”, he mumbled unimpressed, rubbing his eyes. Granted, it wasn’t cool that he missed school, but there was nothing left to save. His 4th and last period was almost over. It was too late to really care for it.

He swung his legs over the bed’s edge and drove his hand through his hair. Then he stood up and went to the door.

At least he tried.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t get up or that he couldn’t move. He just felt...clumsy doing it. As if it wasn’t natural for him. It didn’t feel usual. Usual was walking with a fast pace. It felt more like some kind of stumbling, an uneasy walk after a night of drinking. Only that then his head would be clouded...

His uncoordinated steps at least got him to the door. He pulled the switch right beside the handle and was blinded by the light. When his eyes got used to it, he looked down at his legs. Nothing unusual down there.

He made a careful step backwards to open the door. But carefulness was unnecessary, because now everything was good again. He opened the door and took a few steps into the hallway.

Yep, everything was fine.

Dylan had already brushed it off as a problem of circulation when he made his way downstairs, standing up too fast and such.

Apparently, someone was in the kitchen. “Probably just mom who’s on vacation this week...”

However, first it was time to do his bladder a favor. He turned on the light inside the bathroom and opened its door.

“The fuck?!”

Dylan looked straight at the green and yellow potty training ring upon the toilet. The thing was decorated with Sesame Street characters and had little handles on the sides. It looked...familiar.

Dylan was confused, but he didn’t care for the toddler thing on his throne. He pulled it up and emptied his bladder.

“Gotta ask mom what’s that thing for...”, he thought while washing his hands in the sink.

Flushing the toilet, Dylan left the bathroom.

In the kitchen, his dad was busy with the newspaper, halfheartedly listening to his wife talking to him on the other side of the kitchen table.

“Look who’s awake.”, his mom said neutrally. Apparently, she wasn’t angry at him for skipping school. His dad looked up from the newspaper: “Mornin’”.

Wait, why was his dad here? Wasn’t it Friday?

“Uhm...dad, what are you doing here? No work today?”

Both his mom and dad looked at him quizzically.

“Son, it’s Saturday. Otherwise you would be in school, right?”, his dad said with a raised eyebrow.

Dylan looked to the calendar on the wall left of him. Sure enough, it was Saturday.

“Right...”, he admitted. Then he thought about the ring on the toilet. “And what’s about this potty-training-sesame-street-thing?”

This time, it was his mom: “Oh yes, that’s for your cousin Tommy. He’s turned 3 and Martha said he goes nowhere without it *chuckle*. Don’t you remember? That was yours when you were Tommy’s age. Your father set it up on Martha’s request.”

Martha and Tommy...? Right, if today is Saturday, then they will come around with the rest of the family.

“I hope the ring won’t be a subject at dinner, I don’t want to hear an awkward childhood story from mom...”

“Maybe Dylan can give it a try, too.”

Uhm...WHAT?!

His mother was smiling, but she didn’t look him in the eyes, she was examining his body up and down. “What do you think, honey?”

Dylan’s father looked up again: “Potty training?”, he too examined him as if he wasn’t there. “I don’t think he’s ready for it”, and gave his 17 year old son a smiling wink.

“What the hell is wrong here?”, Dylan thought, looking for the hidden cameras.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. But I will style his hair for the barbecue. That will look awfully cute.”

“Mom...what did you say?!” Dylan was afraid of what would come next.

“Your hair. It’s uncombed. Do something about that before the family comes, okay?” Her tone had changed. She had sounded so...so...well so not like just now.

“Uhm...’course not. I’m upstairs if you, uh, need anything.”

Dyland tried his best to keep cool as he moved up the stairs.

"What. Was. That?!"

“’Give it a try’? ’Potty training’? Do they think I’m in fucking diapers? And the way they talked, dad’s wink.”, Dylan had the image in his mind, “That all didn’t feel honest. I felt like a baby that’s been made fun of...”

Dylan walked into the upper bathroom. He decided to take a shower before eating breakfast.

“First that shit in the forest, then I wake up soaked in sweat, then I’m told that I missed a whole day sleeping and finally, my parents treat me like a baby. This gotta be a joke...”

Dylan slid open the door of the shower and turned the handle for the water to warm up. He felt along the outside wall of the shower and took his towel from a hook.

“Oh this IS a joke!”, Dylan exclaimed as he looked at the fluffy little towel in his hand. Its size already told him that the towel was definitely not for adults, but even worse were the Baby Looney Tunes characters that decorated it in bright colors. No preschooler would be proud of something like that.

“Alright, I see. The baby talk stuff, the potty training ring, now my towel...all that for a funny little joke from mom and dad.”

What was about to come next?

Dylan would have thought about just that, but there was something that set him off. It was the towel, or rather its smell. You would think it smells of baby powder or something, but this was different...

It was the foul stench from the forest! Dylan knew that it had to be the same smell. He sniffled again at the towel, just to be sure.

The moment when the smell seemed to creep in his head and coat his brain, Dylan knew that he made a mistake.

He was unbelievably dizzy all of the sudden. His eyes fell shut for a moment and he sat down. It was like a collapse. He tried to hold onto the bathtub beside him, but he already didn’t feel conscious anymore.

Strength left his arm completely and Dylan gave in to the darkness.

–--

Friday – Afternoon

Tyson’s shirt fluttered in the wind as he ran up the front yard of his house. He didn’t know if he had to be quick to warn them or not, but the running helped him to put up with the recent changes.

After all he looked like an 11 year old kid!

It took him 15 minutes to get home. 15 minutes in which he had time to think everything over.

Mr. Weber maybe didn’t recognize him, okay. If he was the teacher, he would have probably said the same. But the 8th graders in the hall? Nothing unusual that some slow minded teenagers bully those littler than them, but what did he say? “Piss-pants”?

Tyson didn’t like the thought, but that sounded more like a name with a reason. That sounded like this guy knew him as an 11 year old. And whatever fucked up thing was going on here, Ty hoped that the pissing-pants-thing was meant metaphorical...

The result of this was a realization. Maybe, maybe what happened to him had affected others, or everyone as well. And maybe this whole piss-pants stuff should tell him that not only the here and now changed, but also what happened before and around it. The insult opened a door to a whole new reality of things.

Tyson was sure, at home he would get an answer. He set his 5th grader schoolbag on the doorstep and searched for a key.

Bingo! If not a phone, at least he was trusted with his own front door key at 11. He opened the door and stepped in.

“Mooom. I’m home.” Now this would get interesting.

“Tyson?”, her voice came from the kitchen. “You’re already home?”

“Uhm...yeah, uh, a teachers’ conference.”

“Oh, okay.”

Yes, his mom was affected, too. She didn’t comment on his prepubescent voice and didn’t expect him to lie at her. The things Tyson did in the 7 now missing years had made his mom distrustful. But now she bought it. He took his bag and went upstairs into his room to see what had changed there.

As he expected, there were a few, but no drastic changes.

The bed sheets were Star Wars themed, his Xbox was missing and some posters on the wall were different. Instead of ’Kingdom of Heaven’ there was a world map and instead of Eminem there was Wall-E. The clothes that lay here and there adapted to the size of his body and the style of clothes. More button-down shirts and printed T-Shirts like those he already wore, less plain shirts and darker hoodies.

There were changes, and Tyson really didn’t like them, but it could have been worse.

And Ty couldn’t stop thinking about what this ’worse’ might have been.

When all this really was about the forest, then what happened to Lucy and Dylan? Why weren’t they in school? Did it affect them all the same, making them three 10 and 11 year olds, or were they better of...or worse?

However these questions were answered, first he had to call his friends.

Tyson went downstairs and grabbed the phone. While going up again, he dialed the number of Dylan’s house telephone, expecting his mobile phone to have vanished as well.

Ty was, in most cases, a real worrywart. Yes, he was a pretty bright guy and always good for jokes, but underneath, he was always thinking, always concerned with something. And this really concerned him. The phone was still ringing.

Since not finding his two friends and encountering his own changes, Tyson non-stop thought about what could have happened to them.

Finally someone answered it.

“Yeah?!”

Oh no, please no...

“Uhm, yes hello. Sorry, who am I talking to?”

Tyson knew the answer, but he didn’t want to believe it. The high-pitched voice, the way this kid talked...

Dylan didn’t have siblings.

“D’lan!” the boy said brightly. If that is Dylan...

“Dylan! I’m Tyson Hobbs. Dylan, do you remember me?”

“Nah...you wanna talk to my mommy?”

Tyson hang up.

Okay...no, not okay! This was bad, real bad. Not only that this boy sounded like a 7 year old, he also acted like one. So not only was Dylan even younger than Ty, he was also totally unaware of being younger. He didn’t even know him!

This confirmed Tyson’s fear. Whatever happened, it happened to Dylan and probably to Lucy as well. And, even worse, it didn’t stop with their physical appearance, their surroundings and people that treated them like their new ages. As it seems, Dylan somehow adapted to the changes around him.

Tyson couldn’t see him, but his voice, his words...they created the image of "D’lan", the little boy in 2nd grade who plays Pokemon and tag with his friends on the grade school’s playground.

The thought made him sick.

It sounded cruel, but for Tyson, Dylan couldn’t be saved anymore. He didn’t even know if there was a way out for himself, now that he knew about Dylan. He was just sure that the boy on the phone wasn’t able and probably not even interested to help him.

But maybe Lucy was.

He quickly dialed her number and looked at the new clock on the wall. 13:38.

“At the Glovers’, this is Helen”

Helen? Was that Helen Christie from his school? Maybe Lucy was still alright. “Uhm, yes, can I speak to Lucy Glover?”

“Oh, you mean Sarah, I guess? Sorry, she’s not here. I’m the babysitter.”

Why Sarah? And why a babysi-... a kid started crying in the background. Not only a kid, according to the infantile bawling, it must have been a baby.

“Uhm...no, I meant Lucy, Sarah’s big sister.”

Ty was insecure, this wasn’t good. Helen took a moment to answer and the child cried even louder.

“Big sister? Lucy is Sarah’s little sister and I’m sure you don’t want to talk with her. Wait, is this a prank call?! I dare you kid, I got your number now and I ain’t afraid of calling your mother!”

Tyson heard Helen trying to calm down her crying charge.

“Sorry, I-...don’t mind me.”

He hung up.

Tyson let the phone slip out of his grasp and leaned backwards on his bed. His hands drove through his face. He felt like crying.

There was nothing left of them. Lucy was the little sister now and Helen assumed he wouldn’t want to talk with her because she was the crying baby. ...Crying her eyes out. She was bawling like a baby that messed her diapers. And Dylan?! He was more or less back at the day they met, a little kid, a fucking little kid that didn’t recognize his best friend.

Ty sniffled. Who was going to believe him?! Maybe Helen, who threatened to tell on him? His mom, who had no idea that her son was about to start college soon? No, let’s tell one of his new 11 year old friends who have probably known him for years. They will believe him. They will act like he’s totally not insane and then mock him behind his back...the silly boy who thinks he’s 18.

“What now, Tyson?”

His friends were gone. Not even 24 hours after the incident yesterday and they collapsed completely. It was only a matter of time till the same would happen to him. Had he a chance to escape his destiny?

Even if he had, Ty wasn’t even sure how this happened. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? What else could have happened? Only because there was a gas he could see and smell, doesn’t mean that the world suddenly is upside down.

Wait...his brain. Wasn’t the brain one’s control center. He was sure they learned something like that in school. About synapses and neurons...neuronal correlates or something.

Tyson had these words in mind, but he couldn’t arrange them in the right order. He knew them, but it was more like he heard them some time, maybe even was told what they are about but didn’t understand it. They sounded complex...like nothing he ever learned in school. They never talked about that. His teacher was about dogs and their analo-, no ana-...what they look like!

“Shit!”

Tyson nearly hyperventilated. He just felt like waking up from a trance. Images had filled his mind, of a biology classroom in his school, a female teacher and classmates his size and age. Of books with pictures of dog skeletons. It felt real, like memories that were just days old.

And for a moment his memories, the real memories, seemed to falter for them.

Was that how it happened?

Ty was sure, the brain thing...he was on the right track. But to what avail? He couldn’t think straight about anything useful. Every now and then new thoughts entered his mind, thoughts that belonged to this new false reality, not to him. On the other side, what was real, and what was not?

His brain hurt.

Sitting here and thinking about what was to come wasn’t useful either. He stood up and walked downstairs. If it was about to happen, he wouldn’t sit there and torture himself with his thoughts.

While he went downstairs, the bell of the front door rang.

“I’ll see who it is, mom.” Ty’s words were unemotional, depressed. His surroundings held no meaning for him anymore.

He opened the door and looked right into the eyes of a boy.

The kid was around Ty’s age, a little bit shorter if that, and had dark blonde and rather long hair. He held a football between arm and hip.

“Hey Ty, wanna play football on the court?”

Another boy sat on his bike behind him, expecting Tyson to answer. He had a darker tone and a more slender face. He on the other hand looked a little older than Ty.

He didn’t knew these kids, but they obviously knew him. Were they the replacement? Were these boys supposed to be Tyson’s new friends, now that Dylan was too young to know him and Lucy a baby?

Maybe this was the solution he searched for, what would save him from a bad ending. Maybe he had to give in.

“Ty...?”

His name was Connor, Tyson remembered.

“Yeah...why not.”

–--

Saturday – Afternoon

When some light returned to Dylan’s vision, his brain signaled that he felt quit good again. Not only that, he even felt rather comfy. The lack of light and the feeling of soft cushion under his body told him that he didn’t wake up on the bathroom floor, but in his bed. And he must have rested unusually peaceful; his bed at least felt better than last night.

Out of habit, Dylan turned to his right to look at his alarm clock.

Instead he looked at bars.

Round and, as far as the light allowed him to see, light brown poles. Confused, Dylan’s gaze followed the upright bars toward the end where they connected with a long horizontal one. This looked like a cage...one that was definitely too small for him.

He concentrated on his body. A soft blanket lay on top of him. But it wasn’t his own. This blanket was blue and had stars, moons and rocket ships all over it. His legs must have been bare, because he felt the blanket touching his skin.

All he wore was a t-shirt and underwear. Nothing unusual for Dylan, only that his groin felt strangely thick, as if coated by more layers than one. Especially his bottom felt padded, as if he lay on a folded cotton blanket.

This didn’t bother Dylan at the moment. It neither hurt, nor did it feel awkward. His surroundings were more important.

Above the bars, he found something that bothered him much more. Again little stars, moons and space ships, but this time hanging from a construction that seemed to float in the air.

It looked like...a mobile?

“Is this a crib?!”

Dylan thought back to the towel and to his parents. But instead of getting relieved, he was for the first time afraid of all this. It didn’t make sense. His parents would play a joke, no problem, but this has gone too far. And it didn’t look anywhere typical for his parents.

Something was going on here. Who would purposely knock him out, lay him in an oversized crib that wasn’t there this morning and hang a mobile above his head.

That made him think. What if it didn’t stop there?

Dylan pulled his hand from under the blanket and grabbed one of the bars.

“Holy mother of...”

His hand! What happened to his hand?! It was swollen. No, on a closer look, it looked extremely small. His fingers were little and stubby, the back of his hands and his fore arms were pudgy, as if they were stuffed with filling.

No, this was definitely not a joke. This was more.

He pulled himself up but needed much more strength than usual. The blanket slid down from his upper body first, revealing the shirt he wore. Through the light of the only half closed blinds, he could see that it was white and light blue on arms and shoulders, with an unidentifiable pattern on the chest.

He tried to get into a standing position. Now his blanket was off and he stood unstable on his legs. Dylan had to slightly bend them for more control. He looked down at his body, for the first time noticing that he had quite a belly. His legs were as pudgy and stubby as his arms and his little feet didn’t look better. Unbelievable how small they were.

At the same time, he noticed that the rails were much higher than he thought. There was no way he would get out of the crib by himself, especially not now that he felt so weak.

Despite of his pot belly, the orange cotton pants around his groin were still visible and formed a thick bulge. Dylan had to spread his legs. He felt that his bottom, though he was standing now, still was thickly padded.

“No...this can’t be...” He realized that the thick padding between his legs wasn’t just underwear.

It was a diaper.

The door in front of him opened and filled the room with light. Because of that, the figure that stood in the door frame was just a silhouette. But Dylan had no doubt. It was his mother.

Finally he would get out of this, get some help.

“Aww, is my little man already wakie?” Her tone was sweet, motherly. The sound of a mother talking to her baby.

No! This was wrong. He had to explain.

He opened his mouth: “Mommy! Aw’ gone!” and clumsily danced on the spot.

The voice that scared Dylan off , his own voice, was extremely high and bubbly. He sounded like an ordinary little baby, a toddler at best.

“This is hell...”

Dylan could think, he knew the concept of ’hell’, he knew that he wanted out of here. But he sounded just like a baby, even unable to use the right words, and the excited open-mouthed smile with which he greeted his mother was even worse. He couldn’t control himself. And this gave all the wrong signals.

“Mommy’s not gone, Sweetie. I’m right here for you. Now let’s get you out of your crib.”

Dylan’s mother bent over the rails. They already looked huge, but his mother was a real giant. She put her hands under his armpits and lifted him up with ease. Dylan could only imagine how light he was. His mother had no problems at all.

She secured him on her hip with one hand resting under his bottom and pressing against the diaper. For Dylan, that only emphasized the feeling of having a pillow stuffed into his pants.

Their destination was a changing table in Dylan’s bedroom-turned-nursery with a blue padding on top, and, the crucial point, a mirror on the wall behind it. His mother laid him onto the table and Dylan could see his new face for the first time.

He looked straight into the big green eyes of the boy in the mirror. That kid had the typical proportions of a very young child. Eyes in the middle of his face, a long forehead without a hint of wrinkles, shining as much in the light as the little pug nose that seemed to lack its entire bridge. His mouth was practically forced to remain slightly open by the baby fat that filled his cheeks. Chin and jaw were hardly distinctive. The hair on Dylan’s head was rather short and had the dirty blonde touch it wouldn’t lose before his 8th birthday.

He looked like a boy between baby- and toddlerhood, though he definitely looked like the boy from the 90s photographs Dylan remembered. He still looked like himself, only many years too young.

His mother unbuttoned the orange diaper cover and Dylan could see that the garment underneath was wet, even quite soggy. He didn’t even realize that it was wet the entire time.

However, Dylan’s mother didn’t expect anything else. She opened the tapes and put it into the diaper pail beneath.

Dylan was now naked from his waist down. He could see what remained of his penis, now only a little nub between his pudgy hairless legs. It was not worth mentioning. If Dylan couldn’t find a solution, its only purpose would be wetting his diapers for who knows how long.

While his mom hummed ’Little Boy Blue’ and gave him once in a while a condescending smile through the mirror, she routinely used cream and baby powder on Dylan’s tender skin.

He wanted to say something, anything. He couldn’t let this go without a word. But he was afraid of what would come out of his mouth. So he just lay there and wished that he was somewhere else.

Dylan’s mother grabbed his ankles and lifted his bottom from the changing pad to slide the diaper underneath. Then she taped him up. Dylan was relieved to have his shame of a penis covered up, though he wasn’t proud of having it wrapped up in something as babyish as a diaper.

His mom suddenly crouched down and left his vision. Dylan turned to his left and looked downward. Apparently, she was searching for the right diaper cover in the drawer down below. Then she reappeared and quickly stood him up on his legs, turning him eyes front to the mirror. Dylan’s mom fastened the cover around his diaper. This time it was baby blue, matching arms and shoulders of his shirt.

“Yep, this looks cute and comfy. Gotta make the family proud, right baby?”

The question was again rhetorical. Dylan didn’t forget the family gathering. When he heard and looked at his mother, he knew that nobody would see the 17 year old teenager in him. But was that a good or a bad thing?

“Oops, almost forgot.”

Oh no, what now? She took a tube from the various ones on the changing table.

“We wanted to style your hair, didn’t we Dylan?”

Right... She took some of the hair gel and rubbed it into his fine toddler hair. She practically just styled it upward and, as Dylan watched in the mirror, into a mohawk. A dark blonde mohawk on top of a little toddler’s head. He looked ridiculous. Sadly, he looked ridiculously cute.

“Aww, I could just eat you up. Now we’re ready...”

She lifted him off the pad and held him in the same manner as before. As she pressed her hand onto his freshly padded behind, Dylan noticed something. He didn’t wear pants. Now he had to talk again.

“Mommy...diapee!” He didn’t intend to virtually scream it out, and he didn’t intend to say it like that. Now his mom had to guess.

“Yes, Sweetie. A nice clean diaper.”

She guessed wrong. His mom opened the door and walked toward the stairs. Voices could be heard through the kitchen, but farther away from the backyard. He lost it. In seconds he would encounter a bunch of relatives, over 15 years younger than the last time he saw them and dressed in only a T-Shirt and diaper. To say he was pent-up was an understatement.

As they went through the patio door, Dylan tried to scan the yard out of anticipation.

There was one big table with grandma and grandpa, 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 2 female cousins aged 11 and 13 and his dad. On another, smaller table, sat 3 year old Tommy, watching his 6 year old twin siblings chase each other.

Dylan’s mom took him to his older relatives.

“Look, Paul.” One of Dylan’s uncles nudged his dad. “There comes your whole pride.”

The table looked up into Dylan’s eyes.

“Aww, how cute he is.” - “And his hair, like a little rock star.” - “He grows up so fast.”

Everyone had a turn to gush over his presence. Eyes rested on him, smiles were thrown in his direction and cousins couldn’t resist to wave at him in hope of getting a wave back. Dylan didn’t care. He only felt exposed. A half naked easy prey delivered on the tray for his family.

“Here is your pride, daddy.”

Dylan’s mom handed his diminutive form to his father, who sat him on one of his legs. Dylan’s own chubby little legs hang left and right over his dad’s, again pressing the diaper firm against his body. That his dad started bouncing him only made it worse.

Dylan started squirming and babbling slightly to himself as some kind of protest. He didn’t dare to hear his own voice using the wrong words. The squirming almost seemed to be a more appropriate way of getting attention. It felt like the thing to do.

“What’s wrong, champ? Want some juice?”

No, I want you to stop acting like I’m a baby and try to reverse this! But his dad was prepared. He handed Dylan a sippy cup, green with 2 handles on both sides, seemingly filled with apple juice. His dad didn’t stop bouncing him. Going up and down, a real baby or toddler would surely have loved it. But everything Dylan felt was grief over his situation.

Slowly but surely this torture got too much for Dylan. All the loud voices around him, the screaming children that ran around the table, the bouncing, the baby talk he had to endure and that nobody could understand what he wanted. He couldn’t think straight, there were too many things that bothered him or stole his attention.

He drank from the sippy cup to at least do anything else than sitting there and listening to all sorts of discussions that confused him and clouded his head. The taste of apple juice, something that Dylan didn’t taste for a long time, washed over his throat. At the same time, he examined the few little baby teeth he had. Though both shouldn’t bother him anymore after a diaper change and the cooing voices of his relatives, the discovery that he lost his teeth and was reduced to apple juice filled sippy cups added up to the overall frustration.

Something else bothered him about the conversations. Not only that they talked about him as if he wasn’t there, somehow it got harder to follow them. Different subjects mixed together in his ears, and though he could basically understand what they said, many words were lost to Dylan. They held no meaning for him anymore.

It was a condition that got worse and worse. Dylan squirmed in his fathers legs and looked in panic into different directions in search for an anchor to hold his thoughts. By the time Dylan could only understand the simplest of words, unable to follow his aunts for more than a few seconds, he was close to tears.

He struggled with his legs and looked up at his father, whining out of despair. Maybe he could help him...

Dylan’s dad saw that his son was on the edge of a little breakdown.

“Heeey, little man, you want to play?” He lifted his son of his leg and set him on his feet on the grass.

At least the bouncing had stopped now. But Dylan was still off. He couldn’t control himself. There were no tears, not yet, but Dylan was obviously close to losing it.

“I got you something”, his father said and offered a red pacifier to his basically waiting mouth.

Involuntarily or not, he wasn’t sure, but Dylan accepted the rubber nipple. He first thought that it would make things worse, but in mere seconds, Dylan felt his temper calm down. The pacifier tasted of his own drool, but to him it tasted like heaven. The sucking motion did its best on Dylan.

“Everything’s alright again?”, his father said expectantly.

Dylan just nodded and received a smile in return. He turned around to get away from the table and felt his father’s huge hand patting his diapered butt: “Have fun, champ.”

Dylan toddled through the yard and felt the grass tickling his tiny soles.

He talked with his father about sports, politics and such, and now he saved him from bawling his eyes out with a pacifier and a playful pat on his diaper. His father was a dad, but now he seemed like a daddy, a protector, a real necessity for Dylan.

He wasn’t sure how to feel.

One side of his brain was depressed with everything he did. Even his uncertain steps were reason enough to let the tears flow freely out of his eyes. And that was the grown-up side.

The other side told him that this was natural. The pacifier in his mouth should have freaked him out, it really should have made it worse. Far from it. It got better.

The world now looked huge from his angle. Objects on the table, the seat of a chair, even the end of his family’s huge backyard. It all felt out of reach.

One side of him asked “How should I get out of this?”, the other “Why should I?”

It was also a fight between memories. He could swear that, after he woke up this morning, he used the toilet downstairs. He remembered Tommy’s ring on the toilet after all. The other side told him that this was impossible, because he never used the big grown-up potty like his cousins, right?

A short lifetime of diaper changes, play times and babbling nonsense to mommy and daddy was about to take over his mind.

Suddenly, Dylan’s trail of thought was interrupted as he was knocked to the ground. His cousins had bumped into him while playing their game.

But Dylan didn’t knew that. All he knew was that an intense pain overcame him. First everything was quite. He felt the two kids stare at him, hoping that nothing serious happened.

But Dylan started sniffling. He released the wet binky from his mouth. At the end, the whole table noticed the little crying boy in the grass.

“Whaaaaaa! Mooommyyy...”

The pain was like a rising pressure. Only crying helped Dylan to temper it. The sound he heard from himself, the baby’s wailing that clanged through the neighborhood, was probably the most babyish thing he did on this day, but the grown-up side of his brain was silent. There was no space for anything like that. Its capacities were exhausted.

That’s why another small pressure got so little attention as his mother rushed to his side. A little grown-up thought managed to come through, told him that big boys hold it in.

But Dylan was no big boy. The feeling of wet warmth invaded his groin, flooding his virgin white diaper completely. Not another thought was wasted on the subject. It happened. It always happens, doesn’t it?

His mother lifted him off the ground and embraced him in her arms. Dylan gladly accepted her touch.

“Shhhh, don’t cry, honey.”, she said while rubbing his back. She took the pacifier from the ground, cleaned it on her blouse and put it back in his mouth. Dylan welcomed it like an old friend.

The grown-up side of his brain was almost gone. What remained was a small whisper that merely accompanied his thoughts of mommy’s beautiful smell, mommy’s affectionate touch and the safety of mommy’s arms.

She smiled at him and tickled him on his bare tummy. Dylan squealed happily at his mommy and erupted into a fit of babyish laughter.

At last, even the last piece of Dylan’s resistance had been erased, and his grief was for all times gone for good.

–--

Whether it’s a little girl that waits for her kindergarten teacher to button her pants after going potty, or an 11 year old who struggles with a 5th grade science project with his friends.

Whether it’s a baby boy that, standing with bent knees in the living room, desperately struggles to get the pressure of his tummy, or a 5 year old girl who blissfully jumps through the front yard sprinkler dressed in a pink butterfly swim suit.

Whether it’s a boy who’s brought to tears by his bullies in school, or a 20 month old that sits buck-naked in the grass, chewing on a plastic toy phone.

It doesn’t matter for anyone else than these 3 souls. Nobody else was affected by any changes. Nobody else was affected by the forest’s hidden hallucinogens. The mind is racing, doing it’s job in a new way, while the body is numb.

For it is Thursday evening, and 3 souls lie in the grass of a forest clearing, letting their minds lead them deep into a new form of consciousness.

 

---