by: BackToBabyHood | Complete Story | Last updated Jun 16, 2022
(Silverstone Household,
March 29th, 1994)
“Mom? Mom! I’m
out of tampons! Did you remember to ask
Mrs. Slater to pick some up the last time she went grocery shopping for us?”
Amanda’s mother sat in
the living room, staring ahead, eyes wide. She thought of what to say in
response. She didn’t ask. Why would she when she was told her daughter
wouldn’t have another period after she began the treatment?
“Honey……I did forget…..I’m
so sorry” she replied.
Amanda came trudging down
the stairs in her bra and panties, stopping halfway down.
“Um, I’m about to have my
fucking period and I don’t have any tampons?
How could you forget? Are you
retarded?” she shot back, clearly agitated.
“Honey it’s not the end
of the world, you can use mine, ok? Calm
down…….why do you think you’re about to get your period?” Rachel asked, still
staring ahead with her eyebrows raised.
Amanda came fully down
the stairs, then walked by her mother towards the kitchen. Rachel noticed that her daughter looked
thinner. Her breasts had flattened a bit
and her curves had noticeably receded.
She also looked a tad bit shorter.
Amanda opened the
refrigerator and took out the glass of orange juice she hadn’t finished in the
morning.
“Um, maybe because it’s
almost the end of the month and I still haven’t gotten it? I’m going to get it any day now!” she
exclaimed, chugging the remainder of the juice in the glass.
“Just use mine,
sweetheart. I’m sorry, Amanda. There’s been so much going on that I just
forgot” she explained apologetically.
Her daughter rolled her
eyes. “Ok, great. Thanks.
I used to just be able to drive to the fucking store to buy my own. Now I have to ask my Mommy to borrow a
tampon. I feel like I’m 14 again!”
Rachel’s heart skipped a
beat upon hearing her daughter’s comment.
“I feel really fucked up,
too. Something isn’t right. I’ve lost weight, mom. I’m down to ninety pounds! Look, my tits are smaller!” she said looking
down at her breasts and cupping them in her hands. “Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, half of my
fucking pubes fell out in the shower this morning! This home confinement is making me sick! I’m literally falling apart!”
Rachel’s brain raced to
find an answer, any logical answer to mollify her daughter’s concerns.
“Well, you’ve been eating
a lot better, haven’t you? Now that you
aren’t driving and going to McDonald’s every day with Meghan maybe you’ve lost
some weight?”
Amanda scowled at her
mother. “I wasn’t fat, you fucking
bitch…….”
Rachel’s stared at her
daughter, her mouth agape. Then, she
remembered how hormonal and emotional Amanda was when she went through puberty. She took a deep breath, then looked at her
sternly but calmly.
“Amanda, that wasn’t
called for. You know what I meant……”
Amanda paused, then crossed
her arms. “Well, it’s not my fault I’m
PMSing….”
Amanda teared up, clearly
struggling to wrangle her emotions. She
sat down on the couch next to her mother.
“I…..I just feel so
weird. I feel like my life is over and I
feel so……left behind. Everyone at school
is moving on and I’m just stuck! Like
I’m going backwards and they’re going forwards!”
Rachel looked away as she
fought to hold back her own tears. For
the first time, she felt as if she had betrayed her daughter. An overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over
her as she struggled to maintain her composure.
“Honey……I’m so
sorry. I really wish I had been able to
sell the business earlier, when I could have been around more for you……. I’ve
always felt so guilty……. I always tried my best, though” She offered in an
apologetic tone.
After a long silence,
Amanda sniffled, then swallowed.
“Yea, well……. your best
sucked,” she dryly remarked, wiping a tear from her eye. “It’s funny. Now that I’m under house arrest,
I’m seeing more of you than I ever did in my life. Maybe when this is all over, I can move away
and start my life over again. I’d love
to be able to start over again. There’s
a lot of shit I’d do different.”
Her mother looked away
from her. She grabbed a tissue from the
Kleenex box on the coffee table. She
dabbed her eyes, then crumpled the tissue up in her hand.
“Me too, Amanda. Me too……”
Second Visit – 14
Years Old (April 1st, 1994)
Amanda sat on the examination
table in her underwear, her mother sitting in the chair beside her. Dr. Gembella took notes as the teenager
rattled off her physical afflictions.
“So, that’s what’s been
happening. I think this whole situation
is driving me crazy and making me sick!
I haven’t seen my friends in a month, I can’t leave the house, I can’t
even talk on the phone. Look at me! I’ve lost weight! My boobs, my ass…. everything is smaller! What the fuck is happening to me?”
Dr. Gembella continued to
write notes on her chart.
“Hello? Are you listening to me?” Amanda barked,
hunched forward with her arms crossed in front of her breasts.
“I’m listening,
Amanda. I’m writing down what you’re
saying so that I can help you. Now, I’ll
need to ask you a few questions before I examine you.”
“Didn’t know I’d be
taking a pop quiz today but sure, go ahead” Amanda quipped, chewing her gum
nervously.
“Well, it’s the type of
quiz that you already know all the answers to, fortunately. Date of your last menstrual cycle?”
Amanda’s face turned from
anxiety to one of concern, remembering that she missed her period the month
prior.
“Back in February, before
I started coming here…….” she answered, her voice trailing off, realizing how
strange that was.
Dr. Gembella scribbled a
few notes. “Ok, so you missed your
period last month. Any loss of
appetite?”
“No, I’ve been eating
fine. Same as I always do.”
“Any constipation?”
“Ugh, no!"
“When was your last bowel
movement?”
“Seriously?” she replied,
her face slightly red.
“Yes, seriously” the
doctor replied blandly.
“This morning. So, there you go. My period is late but I’m still crapping like
a champ. Any other questions?”
The doctor put her chart
down, then stood up and approached Amanda.
“No, no more questions
but I’m going to need to perform a physical examination. Clothes off, please…..”
Amanda turned to her
mother, then to the doctor. “Does she
need to be here for this? Can’t she wait
outside?”
Dr. Gembella shook her
head and began to put on rubber gloves.
“She has to be in here with you at all times. Those are the rules.”
“Ugh, fine. Mom, turn the other way!” Amanda barked as
she began to take off her bra.
“I won’t look, I
promise!” her mother replied, turning her head towards the wall.
After a few seconds,
Amanda was completely nude, sitting on the examination table. She looked up at the doctor, who held her
gloved hand out in front of her.
“Gum, please,” she asked,
beckoning with her fingers for Amanda to spit it out. Amanda complied, sighed and then laid on her
back as the doctor began to look over her.
Amanda stared up at the
ceiling as she was examined, motionless.
When she felt her genitals being touched, she looked up at the doctor
and pointed to her crotch. “See? I’m almost bald!” she exclaimed, tilting her
head to the side to make sure her mother was still looking away.
“Yes, I can see that” the
doctor replied, applying lubricant to her fingertips. “Lay back down and spread your legs apart,
like you’re giving birth” she instructed.
Amanda slowly complied, then felt the doctor gently inserting her index
finger. Amanda grimaced as the doctor
moved her finger inside her. She hadn’t
felt so tight since she was a virgin and she was surprised by how much pain the
examination caused. When it was over,
the doctor removed her gloves, then instructed Amanda to get dressed.
“Ok, Amanda. Everything looks fine. I think you’re just suffering from
stress. I’m going to talk to the State
and ask them if you can have a bit more freedom in the coming days, ok? Now, go see Doctor Fleming while I go over a
few things with your mother.”
Amanda complied, visibly
shaken. She somehow felt worse after her
exam than she did before. She had a
feeling of helplessness and vulnerability that seemed to grow worse by the
day. As she pulled her jeans back up to
her waist, she tightened her belt. When
she let go, her jeans slid down below her waist a bit. Confused, she pulled them back up, cinched
the belt another notch and left the room.
EXCERPT FROM POST-VISIT
MENTAL HEALTH CHECK TRANSCRIPT
(PATIENT: AMANDA SILVERSTONE)
(APRIL 1st, 1994)
PSY:
So, moving on. How are you feeling today, Amanda?
AS:
Pretty fucking bad. I just saw Doctor Gembella and she examined
me. I think I’m having a nervous breakdown or something.
PSY:
I’m very sorry to hear that.
AS:
Sure you are.
PSY:
Amanda, I know you’re having a
rough day, but I wat you to understand that I do care
about you and I want to help you. Tell
me a bit about this nervous breakdown you’ve been having?
AS:
Well, it’s…...it just feels
bad. It’s bad. I’ve lost weight, I missed my last period…..my whole body just feels wrong.
PSY:
I see. Well, was Doctor Gembella able to give you a diagnosis?
AS:
She thinks I’m just
stressed. She said she’s going to talk
to the State and see if she can get me time out of the
house. I never thought my house would
feel like a prison, but
here I am.
PSY:
Well, isn’t your house a place where you feel safe?
AS:
I mean…….yea, it can be. Lately it hasn’t felt like that, though.
PSY:
I understand. Has your mother been supportive?
AS:
I guess so. She just leaves me alone and lets me do what
I want. Basically, been that
way since I was a kid.
PSY:
Do you like that? Being left alone?
AS:
Of course I like that. Why wouldn’t I like it? It’s better than having her up my ass twenty-four
seven.
PSY:
Have you ever wanted her to be
more involved with your life?
AS:
What do you mean?
PSY:
Well, you said you like that
she’s not constantly lording over you, but is there a part of
you that perhaps wishes she was sometimes?
AS:
I mean, not really.
PSY:
When you were a little girl,
were there times that you wanted your mother around, but she
wasn’t there because she was working?
AS:
Here we go. “Tell me about your childhood, Amanda.” I knew this was coming.
PSY:
I know it’s uncomfortable to
think about these things, but try to remember how it felt
back then when your mother was working.
Would you feel sad sometimes?
AS:
Yea, sometimes I did but I knew she wasn’t there because she was working. She had to after Dad left. Otherwise, we’d be on the street living in a cardboard box.
PSY:
That’s what you know now, but
Little Amanda didn’t know that, did she?
AS:
Little
Amanda just thought that that’s the way things were.
PSY:
Do you ever remember crying because
your mother wasn’t there?
AS:
Why does that matter? Kids cry about all sorts of dumb shit.
PSY:
Do you remember?
AS:
I don’t remember. Maybe.
PSY:
Well, I’d like you to think
about that before our next visit, ok?
AS:
Great. Kicked out of school but I still get homework.
[END OF TRANSCRIPT]
POST-VISIT CONSULTATION
TRANSCRIPT
(RACHEL SILVERSTONE,
MOTHER OF AMANDA SILVERSTONE) (APRIL 1st, 1994)
DCTR:
So, how have you been feeling?
RR:
Honestly, I’ve been feeling
incredible. I really feel……well….young
again. I can see the
physical changes, too. I can’t believe
it actually works!
DCTR:
According to the tests we just
ran you’re currently 32 years old.
You’re actually rejuvenating exactly as we
calculated. To the day, in fact which is
fairly uncommon. Usually there’s a margin of error of plus or
minus a month or so.
RR:
I just can’t believe I’ve lost
ten years in a month!
DCTR:
Has Amanda noticed? Has she commented that you look younger?
RR:
I don’t think she’s
noticed. If she has, she hasn’t said
anything. She’s been very preoccupied
with her own physical changes. Fiona, is she
going to be ok? Is she responding the way she’s supposed to?
DCTR:
Everything we’ve seen so far is
normal. She’s actually responding to the
treatment as well as you are. It’s common for patients to mirror their
parent’s response to the formula. There’s definitely a genetic correlation that
we’ve confirmed throughout the
years.
RR:
Ok, ok. That’s makes me feel better. But I just worry so much about what’s going to happen once she puts it all together. Seeing her freaking out about her body really drove home the reality of this thing for me. She’s going to wake up one day and know she’s not just losing weight. She’s going to realize her clothes don’t fit. She’s going to realize that she’s not tall enough to reach up for the kitchen cabinets. What happens then? What do I do? What do I say?
DCTR:
You’ve read the literature we’ve
provided. You don’t attempt to explain
or make excuses. You tell her what’s happening to her, inform
her that she doesn’t have a choice and that you’re in charge
now. Any other approach is just going to
confuse her and
make things harder for her. The sooner
you establish that you’re calling the
shots, the better. For both of you.
RR:
But…….I guess what I’m saying
is……what if she resents me? What if she
doesn’t accept me in that way?
She’s a very independent young woman… well, I mean girl.
DCTR:
Remember, emotionally she’s going to
start becoming more dependent on you. I know
she’s still cursing and acting defiantly like any other teenager going through puberty
right now, but as she goes further backward, she’s going to become more childlike. You’ll need to take advantage of that. You’ll need to start disciplining her and setting
boundaries.
RR:
Right, meaning what I would
have been doing had I been around to raise her the first
time around.
DCTR:
Rachel, I don’t mean this to sound
judgmental, but I’ve observed your dynamic firsthand. She clearly feels that she can speak to you
however she likes. I’m not saying
she doesn’t love you, but she certainly doesn’t respect you. That won’t change unless you make it change.
RR:
You’re right. You’re right, Fiona. So, what’s next? What should I expect?
DCTR:
Well, I’ll be blunt. Your concerns about her realizing what’s
happening to her are definitely going to be realized
before her next visit. According to the numbers we’ve run, she’ll be ten years old
by the end of next month. Have you
managed to do any
shopping for her yet? I know the
information we gave you had some suggestions.
RR:
I have, actually. I went out and bought all her outfits while
she was held in jail. Shorts,
overalls, t-shirts, that sort of thing. They’ve
been sitting in my closet, hidden away. I also bought a few toys, things she used to
like to do when she was a
little girl. Coloring books, Play-Doh,
Cabbage Patch Dolls, Barbies. You know, just like every other little girl
growing up when she did.
DCTR:
Ok, good. Just don’t spoil her. Like I said, as she gets smaller, don’t
hesitate to put her in clothes appropriate for
her age. A lot of mothers in the past
have told me that
their child will beg to still be allowed to wear their adult clothes, watch
adult shows
on television, listen to adult music……. you can’t let her do that. What you say
goes and the sooner she realizes that, the better.
RR:
So, I make her watch cartoons and play with dolls? What if she doesn’t want to?
DCTR:
Rachel, again. You’re her mother. You say “no” and that’s that. You set the rules. You decide what she gets to do and
not do.
RR:
I know, I know. It’s just so hard to think about. She’s been a teenager for so long I’ve
forgotten what it feels like to be in charge. Well, come to think of it I never really felt like I was in charge of
her.
DCTR:
I understand, but again…..she’s not
just changing physically, but mentally as well. Her brain is going to be reforming itself as she
regresses. As she becomes smaller, she’s going to become more
and more fearful of the world and
naturally look to her
mother to protect her and keep her safe.
RR:
And by showing her I’m in
charge, she’ll make that connection sooner and become more
obedient?
DCTR:
Exactly. You want her to realize that you’re her
caregiver and provider and that she needs you to survive. It’s a basic instinct in all of us as children.
RR:
Well, I guess I’m about to
find out if I’ve got what it takes to raise a little girl again.
DCTR:
Everything is going to be fine,
Rachel.
[END OF TRANSCRIPT]
Another Way, Another Day
by: BackToBabyHood | Complete Story | Last updated Jun 16, 2022
Stories of Age/Time Transformation