Still In Diapers At 20 Novels & Stories

She was too young, too fragile, and too…off-limits. Even if that would still be true when she was twenty-five, she was barely Twenty now. And I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—let myself forget that.

Viola says, gesturing for us to continue. “Well, our child and her mate are growing exponentially fast. We are a little worried to be honest.” “Well, the growth will be fast in a sense, but the toddler stage where she is now will last for another year or so. Then she will grow again to a bigger child and stay like that for a couple of years. That cycle will continue until she is of age at 18, and she will stay in the looks of an 18 year old for about 10 years. Then she’ll grow again to about mid twenties, and then stay like that for the next 200 years or so.” We exchange a look of surprise and shock, but also relief.

“You do know that our son is only 2? He doesn’t need to be burdened with the workings of your world just yet…” “My world? My world Yasmine is your world too. I had a couple of papers I had to finish when Darius came in this morning. I know he is only 2 and once the papers were done, we did nothing but play. Our son is such a wonder for his age…” “That doesn’t mean you take advantage of it…”

she sound worried. I smiled to relieve her from the stress "I'm fine mom" I said as I strived to sit up and felt something in between my legs. I looked under the blanket to see a urinary catheter. "Oh God" I sighed. "Mom! Why am I wearing diapers?" I frowned. "Emily, you need to stay put okay? You have been unconscious for two days. How do you expect us to move you out of the bed...". "But mom... I didn't poop in bed. Did I?" I interrupted.

“Cass…” “I see it,” I say hoarsely. Alexander stretches—stretches—and his bones shift like time itself is folding. Alexis rolls her shoulders. Hair darkens. Limbs lengthen. Skin glows. In seconds— Seconds— Two nineteen-year-olds stand where my infants were. Silence crashes. Alexis looks down at her hands. “That was uncomfortable.” Alexander flexes. “I preferred being carried.” I choke. “You were in diapers yesterday.” Alexis smiles sweetly. “You cried more than we did.”

She never does. “Twenty one is a big age, baby girl,” she utters while sitting at the edge of the bed. ‘No, it isn’t,’ I wanted to say. After all, when she was my age, she still acted like a breastfeeding kid. At twenty-six, she had me. Now, she’s a forty-seven-year-old, divorced—in a relationship or not, I don’t care—unemployed, single mother earning from the small company share dad gave her as part of child support. And now she wants me to grow up? Bloody no.

I was still seated at my position on the bed trying to read his facial expression. “What? Don’t tell me you need a diaper now. I am not going to buy that.” He opened his eyes to blurt out something that made me laugh for the first time after such a long period of time. I laughed looking at him clutching the bedsheet. “Diaper? What am I? A 2 years old kid!” I laughed like a mad woman for the first time ever since I got married to David. I forgot that I can smile too. I can laugh too.

I hesitated to ask, as the mere thought was too much to process. My life had been turned upside down, and I was still struggling to come to terms with my new reality. Just two weeks ago, I was a 16-year-old high school student, and now, at 20, I was faced with a plethora of unanswered questions. Would I be able to finish school? How would I explain the sudden age gap to my friends? Would I simply brush it off as "supernatural stuff" and hope they didn't pry further? The uncertainty was suffocating, and I couldn't help but feel like I was drowning in the chaos of my own life.

There’s a whine behind her voice telling us easily the ordeal that she has gone through mentally. “It may sound odd but we found that the diapers with the most universal fit are cloth ones. We carry several of them in our bag along with clothing in various sizes. If she will let you, I think you have the most experience with infants considering you have two year old sisters.” Parker chimes in. “They are nearly three and already potty trained. Plus Austin is an actual father.” I push back knowing that he’s just simply trying to get away with giving me what most men don’t want to deal with.

From one of the wealthiest families in the world into an orphan overnight. In the blink of an eye, nineteen years had passed. The crying little boy who had stood by the entrance of the welfare institute had now grown into a twenty-seven-year-old adult. As Faith had said, the best time in life was the ten years between their twenties and thirties, but for Charlie, seven years out of the ten golden years had passed.