The Story of MusicBaby

This is the story of my beginnings as an AB. My first time wearing a diaper after being potty trained was when I was little and I snagged one of my sister's diapers and put it on over my underwear. Prior to that, I practice putting diapers on my stuffed animals (which my mother didn't mind). One day, when I was alone, I thought to myself, "Hey, whats stopping me from putting a diaper on?". I had this weird fascination with diapers for some reason, so I just did it and I loved it. Every now and again, I would go and put one on over my underwear and I felt so naughty because of it. The next level to that was wearing the diaper without my underwear on. That felt even more incredible.

Well, a few years pass. I'm home alone again and I think to myself, "Hey, it's been a long time since I've worn a diaper. I'll go put one on." I do so, and while I am wearing it, I get the feeling that I needed to pee. I remove the diaper, but suddenly get the idea to use the diaper. I put it back on and pee in it. It felt so incredible. However, my mother caught me in my little act a while back and it made me feel so wrong. She was very mad at me and it made me question whether or not this was the right thing.

Well, a few years pass again and I feel bad for these feelings and desires to wear and use diapers. I felt like a bad person in the eyes of my mother and in the eyes of god. This continued until one day, I found a wikipedia page detailing the concept of AB/DL and sexual fetishes. I felt relieved that I wasn't alone. That night, while my family slept, I went into my garage with diaper and used it for the first in a long time.

It wasn't too long afterwards that I came to the conclusion that pooping in the diaper would be the ultimate experience of wearing a diaper. So, one night, I waited until my family went to bed, crept into the garage and put on the diaper. I had the feeling the poop, which the was first and foremost thing I took care before this. I held in my bowel movement until my mother finally fell asleep. I could feel it while I strapped on the diaper. Finally, it was time, but it wouldn't come out. After a good push, I felt me mess myself and this feeling of being a complete baby come over me. It was that last piece to the puzzle that I wanted. The following night, however, I learned the downside to that puzzle piece. I made it one of those "every now and then" kind of things to avoid that awful mess.

So here I am, a devout AB/DL. I don't wear often due to lack of privacy. I live with my retired parents. I also do not have options to what kind of diapers I can wear. The local pharmacies only sell the cloth cover kind which I hate. I could buy online, but again, no privacy. But it remain within myself. I will never let it go and plan to take full advantage of getting my own place when the time comes.

Going Nowhere, Chapter Ten: Why Don't You Say You're Sorry?

Jesus, it's been 3 years since I've been on a date. God, even as friends, I felt some sort of angst and pressure. I've never noticed how attractive she was until the other day when I opened up to her. I guess I never looked at her in that way. I never took the time to actually see the beauty behind the friendship we shared. My mind is always on how damn pathetic my life is, I never took a look around to see the actual surroundings. It's almost like a cover that finally removed itself when I decide to take my life to a more positive level. God, it feels good to be alive.
eight o' clock was nearing and I was as ready as I could be. I got my best shirt, which was a polo shirt I've had in my closet for a while, and a pair of new jeans I bought today. All my old jeans are ragged and worn, much like the jeans worn by the early 90's grunge movement, which I so admired. I showered twice and made sure I didn't smell like an old diaper. I had the window open to air out the used diaper smell which haunted the air, and some lit incense to cover the smell. I never smelled it that much until lately. I'm kind of proud of myself, though. I was able to use the toilet for the first time in a long while. It happened four times. Twice yesterday and twice today. My bladder had not completely lost itself, but it was going to take a while for it to fully regain control. I was, for protection reasons, wearing a diaper, but it was discretely hidden under my jeans. Even though Naomi is aware of my wearing, I still wanted to keep it covert and unnoticed by the world.
The time came for us to go on our "just friends" date. I walked over to her apartment and knocked on the door quietly. I heard scuffling on the inside and a hand grasp the door handle. The door opened and revealed Naomi, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. Her hair was as beautiful as the first time I realized how beautiful she was. Her lips were glossing like a lake on a bright, clear day. Her voice penetrated the thickness that was my train of thought and brought me back down to reality. "Hey, Brian."
"Hi, Naomi."
"Can we wait a bit? My babysitter is running late."
"Sure." She moved over slightly, letting me pass by her and into her apartment. Like mine, it is well kept. Unlike mine, however, it is much brighter and had a less dark appeal to it. To my immediate right was the kitchen. Further into the apartment was the living room. In it was a couch, a TV, and a lamp, illuminating the room. Between the couch and the kitchen was a hallway that led to the bedrooms and a bathroom. I strolled over to the couch as Naomi made a quick peak outside to see if the babysitter was coming up. She retracted her head and closed to door as I took my seat. She glided over to me and took a seat next to me. "So, what did you have in mind?" She asked me.
"Well, I thought, since I have a few gift cards to it, we could go to that restaurant on 4th."
"Oh, the place, uh, what was it called?"
"Tuscany."
"Oh, okay."
"Then maybe we could do a little activity afterwards."
"What kind?"
"I don't know. Maybe bowling?"
"Oh, I love bowling. My dad, before he passed away, had all these free passes to the local bowling alley and we would go there all the time."
"Okay, so dinner, then the bowling alley."
"How about reverse, if that’s okay?"
"Okay, whatever you would like."
"Alright, was have a plan."
"Mommy." A small, innocent voice rang out in the air. Naomi's head turned to see Maya, in her pj's, standing in edge of the hallway.
"Sweet pea, I thought you were sleeping?"
"I can't sleep." She said softly as she walked over and climbed into her mother's arms.
"What's the matter?"
"My night light wont work."
"Is it broken?"
"I don't know."
"Just sit her for one second and I will check on it." Naomi got up and went into the kitchen. She pulled out a drawer and reached in for a small light bulb. She closed the drawer, walked into the hallway and into Maya's room. Maya sat next to me and smiled at me. "Hello." I said as nicely as I could.
"Hi, Brian."
"How are you?"
"I'm okay. Are you and my Mommy going somewhere?"
"Yeah are going to go out to eat and bowl."
"Bowl?"
"Yeah, it's a game. You take a big, heavy ball and roll it done a long path. At the end of the path is a bunch of stick things called pins. The idea is to knock over as many pins as you can with the ball."
"Sounds easy."
"It's harder then you think, because if you let you ball go too far to the sides, it will fall into a thing called the gutter and miss the pins completely."
"Can I come?"
"I'm sorry, but maybe another time. This is just between Me and your mommy." She paused for a second and continued the conversation. "I'm sorry for being so nosy."
"Nosy?"
"That’s what mommy called it."
"You weren't nosy and you didn't offend me at all."
"Okay. I just felt bad."
"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Her mother emerge with a burnt out bulb in her hand and a satisfied grin on her face. "It was the bulb." She said victoriously.
"Can I go to bed now?"
"Yes, you can."
"Night, Brian." She as she jumped off the couch and ran into her mother's arms, hugging one last time before she went to bed. "Night, Mommy." Her voiced was muffled by her mother's sweater. "Good night, sweet pea." Her mom retorted. They released from each other and Maya ran into her bedroom. Just as the door of her bedroom closed, the door let a soft knock ring out. "That must be the baby sitter." Naomi said as she walked over to greet her regular babysitter and let her inside. She was a older women, in her 60's, wearing an over coat and a scarf. She quickly noticed me. "And who might you be?" She asked me as she set her purse done.
"I'm Brian."
"Nana, this is my friend. He taking me out tonight." Naomi said to the old lady.
"Oh, you have a date." Nana said with great delight.
"It's not a date. We're just friends."
"That’s how me and my Felix started out. He looked so handsome when he took me out on our first date."
"Yes, I know, you told me before."
"You two best be going now."
"Yes, we should." Naomi said looking at me. We walked over to the door. Instinctively, I grasped the handle and opened it for Naomi. "You two have fun." Nana said as we walked out the door. It closed behind us and we were on our way. "Do you want to take your car?" Naomi asked me.
"Yeah, if that’s fine."
"Yeah, my cars almost out of gas."
"Then I think that would be best."
Bowling was fun. I got a score of 140, which, by my standards, is pretty impressive. Naomi beat me with a 190, however. She was really good. I haven't bowled since I was in high school. On my last date, as a matter of fact. We left the bowling alley at 9:30 and headed for the restraint. I figured it was the best place to go since I keep getting all these gift cards for it from relatives. I never really eat out much. Not much reason to.
We entered to find that there was no waiting necessary. This was a slow night. The hostess seated us almost immediately. We were seated in a part of the restraint that was very empty, aside from a couple eating in the corner. We sat next to the window with a great view of my car. "Hey, look, if my car gets stolen, we can watch." I said to her as we sat down. She laughed quietly. "Yeah, you can give them pointers on trying to steal it."
"Just knock on the glass, 'You have to pump the gas pedal'." I impersonated. Her laughter continued.
"So..." She said, letting her laughter subside and seeking something to talk about.
"How is life?" I asked her.
"Good, Maya is doing well at school, which, I think, goes to the credit of my babysitter."
"Yeah. How is you job?"
"Pretty good. I'm thinking of going back to school, though. Maybe becoming a full doctor. I've seen there job and it doesn't look to hard. Plus, it's always been a dream of mine."
"I think the shows like 'ER' just make it look hard."
"Yeah."
"What about your interest in Psychiatry?"
"Well, it takes a lot of school, and plus I'm just interested in it. Not enough to get into a career."
"I see."
"So what have you been up to."
"Thinking. Seems to be the only thing I'm good at nowadays."
"Have you tried getting a job at a school?"
"I was thinking about it, but then again is that what I really want to do?"
"Well, you went college for it?"
"Yeah, but I'm having second thoughts. The only reason I choose that for a career is because that’s what the coin flip turned out to be."
"What do you really want to do?"
"I don't know. Every job out there is not for me, except..."
"Except what?"
"A musician."
"Why didn't you become one?"
"Well, I tried, but it didn't work out."
"Why?"
"Well, I was in a band with two of my best friends, Stan Koija and Adam Milner. We left our home town in hopes of making our music into something and when we got here, it was 11 months of nothing. Every waking moment that was not dedicated to school of our jobs was dedicated to the band. Adam, by the sixth month, which was November, was getting really frustrated with all this. He had a job at his dad's factory and was making enough that he didn't need to worry about school for a while. Stan, however, convinced him to leave town with me and come to Sothern California and do something with our music. He said that if we didn't get a gig by the following June, which was a year for us, he would leave. He, however, left before that, in April. I don't know where he went after that. We knew he was serious about leaving, too. I was worried about paying the rent because Stan and I both worked part time, but Stan was worried about the band. I told him we had to move out, get another place and just forget about the band for a while, but he wouldn't hear it. All he cared about was the band. So, I had to leave and take care of myself. I still kind of regret doing that."
"Why don't you go back and make things right?"
"What?"
"Well, if you are stable now then you were before, you could be able to concentrate on the band."
"I don't know if Stan wants to talk to me after how I left him there just floundering."
"Hey, you said he was you best friend. If that was true, he will always want to talk to you."
"I guess your right. I'll have to sleep on it."
We left the restraint at 10:30 and started heading home. It was dark, but the night life was vibrant enough to light the way. I parked gently and we both got out of the car. As we walked up to her apartment, Naomi asked a startling question. "Brian, can we just relax at your place for a little while?"
"Don't you want to get back to Maya?"
"Well, I just want to have a little more time to relax and not worry about her. She fine with Mrs. Hallorann for a little while longer."
"I see." We quietly passed her apartment and let ourselves into mine. It was dark and still, just like I left it. We both sat down on the couch and began talking more. I've down a great deal to keep diapers off the topic of discussion. I didn't want that to be the basis of our relationship. Somehow, it just had to show up. "Brian?", Naomi spoke over our chatter.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Yeah."
"How open have you been with your fetish to people."
"Well, truth be told, you and Maya are the first to know."
"How come you never told anyone else?"
"I guess I was too afraid."
"How come you aren't afraid now?"
"I guess I've learned to overcome my fear."
"Hmm..."
"Why do you ask?"
"No reason." The look on her face said differently.
"Are you sure?"
"Well, it's just I've never been open to anyone about things in my life and I wanted to know if you could be someone that I can tell my secrets to."
"Really?"
"Yes. You already shared with me your secrets, I wanted to know if I could trust you with mine?"
"Of course. What do you want to tell me?"
"Well, it's not a secret that I've always wanted to be a mother, but everyone thought I was too young."
"Yeah."
"When I met my boyfriend, I knew he wanted to go all the way with me, but I knew he didn't want any kids. He would be upset if he found out what I'm about to tell you."
"Okay."
"I guess what I am trying to say is everyone thought that me having Maya was a mistake, but truth is I wanted it to happen."
"Really?"
"I wanted to care for another human being so bad that I was willing to have a baby at a young age to do so. So the night me and my boyfriend had sex, I gave him a ripped condom." Tears formed in her eyes, "He didn't find out until later that it was ripped and he was mad at me, almost as if her knew. He left me after that and I was left with my mom, and she was disappointed me. She cried the night I found out. I started to feel that I let my family down when I got pregnant, and that it was a real mistake." She was crying softly now, sniffling a little between each word. "Do you think I ruined my life by doing that?"
"No, not at all." I said in a reassuring voice, "It's what you wanted. Was it too early, maybe, but you didn't ruin your life. Maya is well taken cared of. She has a home, she has clothes, food and a mother that loves her. Was it the decision that society wanted you to make? No, but who care about what the normal world thinks. The only thing that matters is that you and Maya are happy."
"Thank you." She hugged me and left. I had a hard time getting to sleep tonight. Finally, I could rest, but could I?

Going Nowhere, Chapter Nine: Maybe It's Time

Well, it's official. I need to do something. Life is truly starting to get too lifeless. I needed to do something now or die, because that is what I am doing to myself. I am letting all my hopes and dreams die. Really, is this were I want to be in ten years? Is this where I want to be now? No friends, no love life, sitting home alone in a diaper. I don't think so. I've let myself get too comfortable in this situation for too long. It was time to really change my life.
This is one inspiring drive home from work. I thought a lot about what Maya and I talked about yesterday. It consumed my whole mind the rest of yesterday and today. It was one of the first real intimate human contact I've had in a long while, and I liked how it felt. It made me feel happy inside to talk with a living person instead of pushing them away. My day seemed brighter because of it. My work was a little sloppy, too, but the boss was too busy to notice. We just hired a new guy, and he is the epitome of new. No clue whatsoever. I didn't really pay much attention, though. My mind was on fire with inspiration. I didn't know what to do with this new found passion. What could I apply it too? School was over and I had no other outlet. I needed something, but what?
I did a couple half-ass stops at stop sign because, though partly distracted with inspiration, I really needed to pee. My body knew it was in a diaper, but I was doing my best to hold it back. I wanted to re-potty train myself. I know it sounds weird, but its what I wanted. I needed to start somewhere and this was it. I could do this and then take it from there. My tire screeched as my engine died away and I ran up to my apartment. Four flights of stairs never seemed so difficult before. I finally reached my level and ran to my apartment door at the very end of the hallway. I stopped, almost skidding off the rail, over the edge and to the ground below. My hand jumbled my keys, but it was too late. The pain was too much. My bladder let loose and I felt the warm sensation of failure fill my already soaked diaper. Now, I just needed to go inside and change myself and try again later.
I entered my silent apartment and went into my bedroom. I took off my pants and removed my soaked diaper. My hands neatly folded it and tossed it into the pail directly behind me. I cleaned my private area and put some baby powder that I had stashed in the closet along with my other baby accessories. Sometimes, when I absolutely have nothing to do, I just lay in bed in a diaper, sucking on a pacifier and holding a stuffed animal I won at a fair a long time ago. It reminded me of a simpler time. It made me feel better in a weird way. I guess I'm slowly turning into an adult baby since then. I used to be just a diaper lover, but with all that is not happening with my life, I sought a new kind of way to waste my time. I knew I wanted to put it aside to change my situation, but do I really want to give it up? I didn't know. It's so much apart of me, do I really need to give it up to make myself happy. So many question, so little solution. Perhaps I should just wait and think about it, and maybe I can find my answer.
I unfolded a fresh diaper and fastened it around me and went straight for my couch. I was going to watch TV until I felt the need to pee, then I was rush to the bathroom. I didn't anything else to do, so I'll potty train myself in my spare hours. As the TV lit up, I thought about completely getting rid of my diaper fetish. What would life be like if I did? Would I be a more confident person? Why did I start wearing to begin with? I felt the partly sexual urge to wear them when I was younger. When I finally did, it felt relieving in a way. Since then, it became less sexual and more spiritual. It seemed to be my only connection to the simple time in my life before I start kindergarten. Was it a stress relief, or a life relief? Did I wear to make life easier or to make life easier to deal with? What kind of relief was I looking for, and can I still get it now? Damn questions.
A soft knock rapt at my door. Who could it be this time? "One second!" I shouted as I went to grab my pants, put them on and went to the door. I opened to see Naomi with a very concerned look on her face. "Hey, Brian." She said before I could even utter a word. "Can I come in?"
"Yes, by all means."
"Thank you." She said as I widened the door to let her come inside. She passed me and stood by my couch, looking around. "Is there something wrong?" I asked, addressing the concerned expression evident on her brow.
"I just wanted to apologize if Maya offended you in any way by asking about your condition."
"What?"
"Your condition?"
"My condition?"
"Your bladder control problem?"
"No, kids just have a natural curiosity."
"Listen, if I had known, I would have told her to keep quiet about it."
"Yeah, I do my best keep it a secret." I felt now was the time to be open about this. Naomi was nice and a very understanding person. However, she might think I'm a freak and never take Maya anywhere near me again. What did I have to lose? Nothing, really. "Please, take a seat."
"I can't stay long. Maya is in her room. I kind of gave her a little scowl because she told me what you two talked about yesterday."
"Hey, she has every right to ask. I would never be offended by a child’s natural ability to question everything they see." I said as I sat down.
"I'm glad you are not upset."
"Oh, no need to apologize."
"So, how did you become incontinent?"
"Uh, well, that was a little fib I told on my part." Here it goes...
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I am not incontinent."
"But you told Maya-"
"Yeah, because she could not understand why I really wear adult diapers."
"Why do you where adult diapers?"
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain."
"I'm all ears, Brian."
"Promise you are not going to get all grossed out and stuff?"
"I promise. What is it?"
"Well, have you ever heard of a fetish?"
"Oh, you are one of those people." She said, already showing a tone of understanding in her voice.
"What?"
"I've heard of them before. Diaper fetishist, right?"
"Yeah." I said stunned and confused
"So you wear... because you like it?"
"I used to, but now I have to because I have to because I lost control."
"You mean?..."
"Yep."
"Oh. I understand." A short paused came between us.
"So," I hesitated as I searched for the words. "You are not creeped out at all"
"No, I understand fully. I took a psychology class when I was in high school. As a project, we had to do a research paper on human sexuality. Some guy did his on that and I did more research into it. I thought it was weird at first, but then I was more fascinated by it. The whole reasoning behind I thought nice. The desire to revert back to a stage of comfort and no worry was pretty cool."
"Really?"
"Psychology was one of my favorite classes. I had it my junior year before I got pregnant with Maya. I was able to finish before I had to leave school."
"Wow."
"Yeah, I was really big into the human psych?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. I first got into it when I did research on the root of racism and a teacher recommended that I look into why people hate and discriminate."
"Oh, I see."
"I would have continued with it, but Maya came and..."
"I see. That’s kind of cool."
"Why do you wear them?"
"Well, at first it was almost sexual. Then it became some sort of a security blanket that kind of made me feel safe and secure."
"I see." A small pause disrupted our conversation. "This is kind of relieving. I thought you would be like, 'Oh, don't come near my daughter again', you know?" I relayed to her my initial thought over this.
"I know. It's a tough world for people to be excepted in. I would never be a person to judge someone by there differences. I mean, I was half-white, half-black kid growing up. My mom and dads relationship was looked down upon by a lot of people. I know what it's like to be scared to be yourself and to be afraid about being judged by others."
"Yeah, thank you for understanding." Suddenly, the light that shown in from the window created a glow around her. She looked more beautiful in that moment. I never realized how beautiful she was. In the heat of the moment, my mouth worked ahead of me. "Say, you want to have dinner some time?" At first, I thought she would reject me because of my new truth. I was not expecting what I got. "You know, I would love to." She said with a smile, "But just as friends, okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
"I see you here alone quite a bit, Brian. I think you need a friend."
"Yeah, I guess you are right. So, does tomorrow sound good?"
"Yeah, sure. eight o' clock?"
"Yeah." We stood up and walked to the door together. I opened the door, like the natural gentlemen I was raised to be, and smiled as she left. "Bye. See you tomorrow at eight."
"Yeah. Bye, Brian" She said with a bright tone in her voice. My door closed and I felt the world inside me celebrating the fact that life may not be going nowhere for me. Perhaps it's going somewhere.

Going Nowhere, Chapter Eight: Life is Going Nowhere

What happened to my life? How did I get here? How did everything just fall apart? At first the world is right in front of you, then it's gone with everything vanishing with it. Where did I go wrong? Was it all my fault? Or was the world to blame? I don't know anymore.
The sunlight poked through the small opening of my blinds on to the floor and my treadmill as I walked through my small, cheap apartment. I sat down on the couch and peered back at my bedroom, which had enough room for a bed and a night stand. My closet is where I had to put my dresser that I bought about a year ago. Until then, I just put my clothes on the floor. That’s all I had, too. I sold my laptop, guitars and my amp two years ago for extra money. That was before I got a raise and a promotion. Now, I don't even know if I want them back. I've given up on music, which is something I thought would never happen. It happened, nonetheless.
Across from my bedroom was my bathroom. When I first moved in here three years ago, it was dirty and disgusting. I had since taken the bravery to clean it and make it sanitary. Then there was my living room. I had a TV up against the wall that housed my bathroom behind it. Across the TV was my couch and coffee table. To my right I had blinds covering a sliding glass door that led out to a small balcony. In front of the blinds was a treadmill I brought from an old lady who was about ready to sing her final song before death's applause. It gave me something to do. I would often run on it for an hour or two, just thinking. Being in motion really helped me think about things. It helped me stay in shape, too, which was a bonus. To my left, I had a kitchen that held many types of junk food. I didn't care what I ate, as long as if was cheap and easy to make. This is where the treadmill comes in handy, too. This was my new home.
I sat quietly on the couch changing through the channels on my twenty inch flat screen I got as a gift from my mom and dad. I was overjoyed to think that, even when life was down, my family picked me up a little. It's nice to know that someone cares about you when you're down. I can never go back, though. Not like this. I tried so hard to make sure I didn't go back. After all I did to leave, I was to afraid to go back there. Maybe pride is too strong a sense for it's own good. I had no work today, as it was Sunday, and I finally graduated with an associates and a bachelors degree in English. It's not what I wanted, but it was my only option. It was getting down to the wire and I didn't want to put anymore money into school if I couldn't decide. How did I decide? I flipped a goddamn coin.
So I sat here, alone in my apartment, in a t-shirt and, of course, a diaper. Ever since I moved in here, I started to wear non-stop. It was one of the few upsides to this drastic change. I would come home after school or after work and put a diaper on until I had to leave again. Weekends saw no action in my bathroom. I decided to use my diaper for all its intents and purposes because I didn't care. I would be sitting down, inches from the toilet, soiling myself because I could. At night, every night, I would wear a diaper to bed and wake up with a feeling wanting to soil myself, and I did. Eventually, my body lost control.
It was a weird day when it went. When I walked outside, the world felt still and was like everyone was gone. I walked down the street to the corner store to get some groceries. I good the usual stuff, said hello to the lady at the cash register and paid for my items. I walked back and climbed the stairs to my room on the fourth level. Two feet away from my door, I felt my pants were wet. I looked down to see my jeans had a giant wet spot going down my pants. I quickly entered my apartment before anyone around noticed. The following weeks, I tried to go without a diaper, but eventually, I caved. I couldn't control it, but I gave it little effort, as I didn't care. I started wearing to school and work. My clothes covertly disguised and muffled the sound, but I knew what was there. Even if the world was oblivious to my problem, I wasn't. I was forced to caring extra back-up diapers in my car and in my bag. I made sure that I didn't lose complete control, so I still use the toilet, but the damage is done. I hope I will be able to fix it, but really, what is the point? Is there anything to look forward to? I don't even know anymore.
So who should I blame? Should I blame myself? The world? Maybe I should just take everything and throw it at someone just to make myself feel better. Would it? No, it wouldn't. Everything is my fault. It wasn't Stan or Adam's fault. It wasn't Mandy, my sister, mother, or father. It wasn't even Samantha Walter's fault. It was all my own. Every problem came with a choice, and I made the wrong choice every time. When my first day of Kindergarten was hell, It was because I let be hell. I didn't have to let it bother me. I could of easily rolled it off my shoulder. I could of easily let all the insults not bother me, but I let them. I let my them win, but I had a choice. They didn't have to win. I could of won, but I didn't try. I just kept blaming my problems on them. It truly is all my fault.
Why don't I change? Am I comfortable in this mess I created for myself. I guess I am. The only reason I bring up these horrible memories is it gives me something to think about in my solitude. I've cut myself off from the world. I don't talk to anybody at work. I didn't make any friends at my school. I didn't go to parties, shows, or any type of a social gathering other then the traditional family holidays where I would go up and meet the folks. I haven't spoken to Stan of Adam since I left the apartment. So what did I do? I thought. I would spend my days alone in my apartment in a diaper thinking about my life and all my options. I would run on the treadmill and think. It was all I would do. I had nothing else I wanted in life. It seems like I'm kind of living my dream life. I have a sure way to make a good living, I live in solitude and I get to where diapers 24/7. Why aren’t I happy? I guess even heaven has it's bad days.
On this early Sunday morning, I decided to continue my solitude. Hey, why break this perfect mold that I created for myself. I'm not unhappy, but I'm not happy either. Just dissatisfied. Maybe play a couple video games, watch a few movies, and maybe run for a while. That usually makes me happy in a sad sort of way. What an eventful day to look forward to. As I began to collect my motivation to get my eventful day started, three quick knocks rapt at my door. Who could it be? I wasn't expecting anyone, or was I? I could of forgotten. It's possible. I quickly get to my feet and speak out. "Who is it?"
"It's Naomi." A soft but firm voice answered, muffled by the door. Naomi was my neighbor. She lives about three doors down from me. I wonder what she could need from me. "One second." I shouted back. I walked quickly to my bedroom and picked up some pants. My leg shoved themselves into my jeans as quickly as they could. I checked to see if my zipper was up and if my diaper was showing, which it wasn't. Nobody knows and I intend on keeping it that way. It's not a matter of shame, but a matter of privacy. I walked to the door and opened it. There stood Naomi. Her hazel eyes were fixated on me. Her black hair was neatly brushed and laid against her light, ebony skin like it was connected. Holding her hand was her six year old daughter, Maya. She was dressed in a bright yellow dress with pink flowers printed on it and had a yellow ribbon in her hair. She stared up at me and looked as if she was disappointed. Naomi's look was more concerned and frustrated, however. "Hey, Brian."
"Hey." We've spoken before. I've caught her, on several occasions, carrying many bags of groceries and always offered my help. She is a nice person who has had a run of bad luck in her life. I can trust her. I know I don't have to block her out. She can be trusted. It's not a question of whether she can, though, but if I can. I know I can.
"Listen, my babysitter is sick and I have no one to look after Maya. Could you please?"
"Yeah, sure. No problem." I said with a reassured voice. I had no reason to object and I could never have made myself do so.
"Oh, thank you." Maya and Naomi entered hand and hand into my apartment, which, in my hours of solitude, managed to keep itself clean and sanitary. Maya let go of Naomi's hand and walked further into my apartment. She looked around, satisfying her curious nature which Naomi has told me about. "You can make yourself comfy on the couch." I said to her as she continued to look around. Her eyes never took off of the settings of my apartment, but her feet moved in the direction of my couch. I turned my head back to Naomi, who was searching through her bag for something. Her hands savaged through her purse and find what they are looking for. She pulled them out holding several movies, most of which are Disney. "Let her watch these movies. I should be back from my rounds around four. You don't mind watching her for that long?"
"Oh, no, not at all."
"Thank you again." She walked over to Maya, who has already seated herself on the couch and is still analyzing the apartment. She placed the movies on my coffee table and crouches down next to her. "Now, Maya. Are you going to be a good girl for me and behave for Brian."
"Yes, mommy." She says, making the missing teeth in her mouth known. She placed her hand on the daughters face and gently rubs it as she smiles. She stood and walked back over to me. She rummaged through her purse for a little piece of paper and wrote down a jumble of numbers, then handed it to me. "Here is my number. Call me if anything goes wrong. I will be at St. Paul Hospital."
"Yeah, don't worry, she'll be fine." I assured her. She took one look back at her daughter and left through the open door, closing it behind her. She is a nice person who has been through a lot. She is 22, like me, only slightly younger. She had Maya when she was sixteen and was dumped by her jackass boyfriend, whom I'm told is in jail for drug issues and grand theft auto. She went back to school after Maya was born was able to get her GED. She went to nursing school and became a registered nurse not to long ago. Her mother helped her out as best she could, but she died of lung cancer after she got her degree. She had been suffering a long time and she died in her sleep, which I think makes Naomi a little bit more content with herself. God, to live the life she has had, my compliant make me look like an asshole. I hope she can do alright, though. If she can manage her money right, she and her daughter, Maya, might live a nice life. I wish more for her, though.
I turn back to see Maya sitting on the couch. I set the piece of paper down by my phone, walked over to the blinds and opened them for sunlight. I turned to her to see her eyes are pierced on me and my every action. "What is this?" She points her finger to my treadmill. I figured she must have not seen one before. "It's a treadmill." I started, "You can run on it."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you just press these buttons on it to set what speed you want to run at and this thing," I put my hand on the part that moves, a name I can never remember, "It moves and you can walk and run on it."
"Neat." She said in a voice was trying to sound impressed, but sounded more tired that anything.
"So, you want to watch a movie?"
"Yes, please." She goes to the movies and pick one out. "This one, please." She says politely as she holds the movie in the air. It has a picture of a robot on the front and is made by a familiar name famous for making computer generated movies. I've seen it many times before. "You like this one?" I asked her.
"Yes. I think it's funny."
"Okay, lets watch."
The movie was rather entertaining. I've never seen it before, but I heard a lot about it. It had a lot different stuff in it. It mixed romance and politics with robots and comedy so well, I'm actually thinking of getting it myself. Those writers are pretty talented. I looked at Maya, who was watching the credits intently. "Who are all those people? Do you know?" She asked so innocently
"Those are the people who made the movie."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"What did they do?"
"Maya, that’s something I don't even know. I just know they are good at what they do."
"Can we watch another one?"
"Sure." I got up and grabbed one of the DVDs and went over to the DVD player. The player ejected the finished movie and was replaced by another movie, which was also made by the same people. The player closed and the blue screen went black, beginning the trailers for future movies to come. I went back to my couch and sat back down with Maya, who's eyes were fixed on my every action. She broke the silence by asking a question that I was not expecting. "Are you wearing a diaper?"
"What?" I was lost in all events that I forgot completely that I was indeed wearing a diaper. She must have noticed it when I was bending over, replacing the movies.
"Is that a diaper?"
"Uh..." I thought hard on how to respond. Every reason for why I was wearing what I was wearing was far to complex for a child to understand. She doesn't anything about sex and trying to explain a fetish or desire would just go right over her head. She, however, gave me my reason.
"Are you incotinat?", She asked, mispronouncing the word. Where did she hear that before? A child that young knowing a medical condition off the top of her head? Maybe Maya is brighter then Naomi talks about. It hit me like sudden realization of an obvious fact. Her mom's a nurse. She must have heard her mom use that word before for her patients who can't use the bathroom. Of course, she would also explain why some adults need bed pans, or adult diapers.
"Yes." I jumped on that excuse to explain my situation. It's a partial lie, but it beats the truth and having to explain all the reasons.
"Really?"
"Yes. I was in a car accident when I was in high school and I've needed to wear adult diapers since." Obviously, a lie required more lies to follow suit. It wont hurt her in any way, thinking that I am incontinent. Perhaps it's the safer solution in this rare case of it being okay to lie.
"Did you get picked on a lot?"
"I would have, but I hid it well."
"Really?"
"Yeah." The DVD finally reached the menu screen and I was about to press play when her curiosity continued. "Do you like wearing diapers?" She asked.
"Well, sometimes. Other times it's a hassle."
"Yeah, I liked it too, but my mommy said I had to be potty trained for kindergarten."
"Well, we all had to be potty trained for school."
"I was scared my first day of kindergarten."
"Really, why?"
"Because me and my mommy are always together, and the kids were really scary."
"Yeah, it can be like that."
"Were you scared on your first day?"
"Yes."
"You were?" She said amazed at the fact an adult can be scared.
"Yeah, absolutely terrified. My mom always kept me close to home and I never had much human contact until I started."
"Really, no friends."
"Yeah, I had no friends until high school."
"Wow, that’s sounds bad."
"Yeah, but somehow I got used to it."
"Do you still have friends now?" I paused for a moment. Why I am able to open up to this little girl is beyond me. Maybe it's her innocence, or maybe the fact that I can explain things to her on a simple level. "No, unfortunately." I regretfully stated. Her eyes lit up with amazement. "No friends!?"
"No. I haven't spoken to them in a long while."
"Why?"
"We just don't."
"Do you miss them sometimes?"
"Yeah, I do."
We continued to talk and watch movies until Naomi knocked on my door at 4:30. I got up and answered politely. "Hey," I turned my head to the couch. "Maya, you mom is here."
"Sorry I am late."
"No problem at all." She walked in as Maya grabbed her stuff and ran into her mom's arms. What a wonderful feeling to know your own mother's touch when you little. I miss that feeling sometimes. Naomi released her daughter from her arms and stood up to my level. She began to reach into her purse of her wallet. "How much would you like?"
"No, don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?"
"No, I would never dream of taking your money. Maya and I had a fun time."
"Oh, okay. Thank you, Brian. You're incredible." She said relieved and relaxed.
"Yeah, you're welcome. If you ever need it again, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you." She said one more time as she left. I closed the door and returned to my couch. I flipped through the channels, but thought about what Maya said. I do miss my friends, and sometimes I wish we could have the good ol' days back. When we would just not let the world bother us with our action, allowing us to do many things. Those days were precious. Now, life is going nowhere

Going Nowhere, Chapter Seven: What Really Matters

11 months and no gig. This was going to be harder then I thought. The small clubs wont even play us. We have been trying hard to get ourselves noticed, but no one in this damn place will even listen. Even people on our Myspace page wont even listen. It's like you try hard to do something and nobody cares. Your parents even tell you, and directly tell you, that if you try hard, you will succeed. Well, bullshit, mom and dad. It's not the case in this world. You try hard, give your all, and all you get in return is spit upon by everyone in the world who actually are the ones who judge if we are good or not. Who are they? Who the fuck do they think they are? God? Do they think they can run the world, because they actually do. They run this world.
I was finally able to get a job two months ago, but not as much as I was hoping. Since I was going to school, I could only work part-time, so I didn't get as much as I wanted, but my bank balance was finally back up to $3000. I didn't want to spend it. I wanted to keep it as safe money, just in case something happened, which a fear I had.
I was sitting at home when Stan got the call from this place in Los Angeles, rejecting us for a show. Instead, they wanted to go with some band that sound like every other shitty band in this world. We were so big in our hometown, but out here we're nothing. We tried so heard to make a name for ourselves, but every attempt went belly up. After several tries to get into some of the local clubs, we decided to put on a garage show and invite a bunch of people. That proved to be even more of a disaster. Only four people showed up and we instead went to the mall to drown our sorrows in some food. What did we have to do to get noticed?
I laid my head against the couch and watched as Stan dropped the phone next to me. Adam was sitting in a chair we found in a dumpster a month ago. We had to sell our big couch and replace it with this tiny little loveseat. Stan sat down with a dismayed look on this face. "Life sucks." He finally utter.
"I knew this was a bad idea." I said. Adam looked at us both. He had an angry look on his face. He, out of all of us, was getting the most frustrated. He left behind a good job will an even better future, but left it behind for this band. The way it sounded started to catch up with him. "I can't believe I listen to you guys." He paused for a second so his mind could filter the words we wanted to express. "I was up for a promotion at the factory, I could of went to a community college, got my associates degree and started a real job."
"Come on man, it was all our fault. We didn‘t know this would happen." Stan said.
"No, it was your fault." He pointed his finger at him. "You were the one who thought this was a great idea and you ran with it. I'm sick of living like this. We haven't a gig since the talent show and we fucked up our lives by moving here. What were we think in listening to you."
"Hey, at least I got an idea. I wanted to save this band. This was the only thing I really cared about. You guys are like brothers and I didn't want to watch it die."
"Well, let it die. Move on with your life.” He paused for a moment, “I'm out of here." He grabbed his jacket and stormed out to his truck. Stan got up and followed him, and I followed Stan. He was opening his truck door, throwing some stuff around with an angry fixation. “Where are you going?“ Stan asked.
“Home. I’m going to get my job back”
“Your leaving?”
“Yes. This band is going nowhere. I’m going to jump ship before this gets any worse.”
“How can you do this?”
“Because one of us has to grow up, and it doesn’t look like either of you are getting near it.”
“Come on, just think about it.”
“I’ve thought about it. I’m out of here.” He ran back into the house came back out with a box of clothes and his bass guitar. He threw the stuff into the bed of his truck and ran back into for his last box of stuff. He threw on top of his other box and closed the bed of his truck. “Don’t leave us, man.” I finally said, “We need you. We need our friend.”
“No, what you need is a reality check.” He climbed into the truck and the engine stormed up and he quickly drove off. It was just Stan and I. We retuned into the house and I sat back down onto the couch, thinking quickly. We can we do? I didn’t know. I turned to Stan, who began pacing furiously, rubbing his head as if an idea will come up and we could save this. "We don't need him. He wasn't that great of a bass player. There are fucking high school kids with more talent then him."
"Dude, what are we going to do?"
"We are going to go find a new guy and teach all our songs-"
"No, I mean for rent." His face turn on me. "Adam was the one making the most money. He worked full time. Both of us work part time and that’s not enough to pay the rent and live. With him gone, how are we going to pay the rent?"
"What about the band?"
"The band doesn’t matter. How are we going to live?" He took his palm and pressed it against his forehead and rubbed it down his face, as if he was changing faces. I could tell he was surprised by my response. "It doesn't matter?" He asked in disbelief, as if I was joking about it. "It doesn't matter?" He spoke in a higher voice. "Of all people, I thought you would be the only one who would stick by me."
"I am, man, but we have to think about this in more depth."
"More depth? It's just us. The band. Isn't that all we need? Isn't that all the matters?"
"Come on, man. This is our lives here. We can't just waste everything we got on something that might not succeed."
"I thought you were on board." He said with a saddened face. This was not the reaction he was hoping for. Not from his best friend.
"I can't. I have to think about our future. I'm sorry."
"Fine. It's fine." He was trying hard to fight back the tears. This band meant so much to him. More then it did to me or Adam. "Just walk out, man. Just like Adam did." He went outside to the back of the house. I could hear him weeping quietly as I gathered my things. It must be tough to want something so bad, but you can't have it. It's all gone now. Everything we worked for. It's just done.
I quickly gathered all the stuff I had in the house and left. As I went outside, I noticed how clouded and grey the sky was. It was an odd, familiar feeling that it gave to me. It reminded me of my first day at school. It seemed fitting that today would be a day like this, but at the same time I wished these days never existed. I got my stuff in the car and I got into the drivers seat. I looked into the front window of the house and saw Stan looking out at me. He had tears in his eyes. He didn't want to let this die. Adam could easily say that because it didn't mean that much to him. For Stan, his whole life was about music. He didn't want to do anything else but play music. It was his only passion. For me it was the same, but I had lived a life of back-up plans. If thing didn't go according to plan, there was always a back-up. I had something of a back-up plan in my head, but Stan had nothing. He didn't think of anything because he put so much faith into this that it hits harder when we fall. I pulled away as I looked at Stan. I finally turned and went into the other direction. I didn't want to go home, but I couldn't stay here. I needed to find a new place. I drove around for a while and found a motel. It was kind of old and dingy, but it would work. I entered the office and found an old man working there. We had his eye occupied on a fishing magazine. He forced his eyes away and looked onto me. "What can I do you for?"
"Yeah, I need a room."
"Sure, any preference?"
"Do you have any with an internet connection?"
"Sorry, we don't have that, but there is one of those cafes up the street if you want."
"Thanks." I got my room key and took the essentials out of my car and into the room. It was a small room with a flower wallpaper, two singles beds and a TV. I put my suitcases next to the bed and laid my body on the bed. I stared at the ceiling and thought. Was this how I expected to spend my first week of vacation? Was this what my life was going to be like? I never thought this would happen. My first year of college was gone and I wasn't sure what the second year would bring. Would there be another year? Would this all just end right now. I quickly shook my ideas out of my head and went for the internet cafe. I drove to a little cafe called Phish and Microchips and paid my money for internet use. I quickly started looking for a new place to live. I spent hours searching through the classifieds and found nothing. Finally, by the grace of god, there was a apartment complex renting right now. It was small and only $450 a month. I could survive to at least the end of college. Then what? Become a doctor or a lawyer? I didn't want it. To be honest, I didn't know what I wanted. Thinking Stan face, I could imagine what he must be thinking right now. What he was going to do. I don't blame any of this on Stan, or Adam. I blame it all on society. Our efforts to prove ourselves exceptional ended up going belly up. What was wrong with the world. It wasn't us. We were trying make our lives, yet no one cared. Did anyone cared? Is there and ounce of caring in this world? I figured no. With what I was facing and what I have been through, it's easy for me to say that. With that thought known, I needed to get to that address and secure a room before I lose it.
I was about to leave when I realized I hadn't been on my diaper sites in a while. I looked around and saw I was in a nice, unoccupied area and slowly opened up my laptop. I entered the name of the site and logged in. I looked at my messages and saw it read zero. I went to sent messages and saw that all my messages have been deleted over time. Nothing was in the there. I then proceeded to my friends category. Although I've never talked to her, I grew the courage to add her as a friend. I saw my small list of diaper friends, consisting of only ten or eleven people, and I didn't see her picture. I naturally thought the worse. Did she delete me? Did she delete herself? Was she just a scammer? I entered her screen name and nothing popped up. I then began to scroll through the list of females on this website. I knew enough about her through looking at her people to narrow down my search. I tried every method and no avail. She was gone. She never responded, at least I don't think. She was gone now, though, and I will never know. Thanks a lot, you shitty day.

Going Nowhere, Chapter Six: Cloud Nine is Closed

I have to get home. This is the only opportunity I'll have in like a month, so I don't want to miss it. With the guys out of the house, I can finally indulge in my desire that has been lying dormant inside me like a volcano, but today is my chance. We've lived in Fresno for three months and we are already accommodated. Stan and Adam got jobs and we are able to support the house we live in. It's small, affordable, and for three guys, it works.
I make haste to my car and drive fast, but carefully, to our home. Fresno is a nice place and we have no problem calling it a home. It really feels that way. I've never really felt this way in my old hometown, which, I guess, means it never was a home. You can live somewhere for a long time and call it a home, but home has a whole different meaning then what is perceived in the media. What they what you to call home is not what I call a home. It's far from it.
My car gently enters and settles in our baron driveway. Adam is working and Stan, who is usually home at this time, is at the doctor's office getting a check-up. He thinks he injured his wrist, but I think it's something minor. He is, however, paranoid about screwing up his drumming career on something like this. I exited my car, which I just brought from home after I left it there with some of my other stuff until I was sure this was permanent. I didn't want to take it all with me then have to take it back if things didn't go to plan. I'm glad it is.
As I walked up the small path, I peered around the neighborhood to see if anyone was around. There was a small few, but nobody to worry about. I wanted privacy, which is something that was hard to come by in this world. I stumbled with the key, unlocked the door and entered a still, messing house. The dining room, or what was supposed to be a dining room, was now home to a table filled with papers about nothing. I carefully walk past it and entered our living room/bedroom. This humble area is where we live and sleep. Stan and Adam both sleep on this couch thing called a sectional that we bought and I sleep on this inflatable mattress that Stan brought with him. Our reason for not using the bedroom for it's purposes and intentions is because it was our new practice area. We all have to make sacrifices for success, and if I have to sleep on a blue inflatable mattress, well so be it.
I walked past the mattress and to the hall closet, where I keep a box of my belongings. When opening the box, all someone will notice is a bunch of t-shirts, a few folders of various stuff and a clear, cylinder case of blank CDs. Underneath it are my desires. A box of fluffy white diapers. I've been hiding these things from my roommates ever since I brought it along with my car and my laptop about a month ago, and with my roommates gone for at least an hour and a half, I could enjoy it. I entered our bathroom, which is right next to our practice room in the back of the house, removed a diaper and unfolded it on the floor. After double checking the lock on the door, I removed my pants and underwear and laid my naked bottom onto the diaper. I fastened the seal like I've done many times before and stood up. I looked at it in the mirror and admire it's beauty. How something so simple could bring me so much joy is beyond me, but right now is about enjoying it, not wondering why I enjoy it.
I exited the bathroom and put the remaining diapers away safely in my box of belongings. The rustling of the diaper was like music, filling the quiet air like rain on a cloudy day. I sifted through my bags of belongings and located my laptop. We have yet to acquire an internet connection, but the guy next door has a wireless connection, so I use that and delete my browsing history. I don't know if that really works, but what is he going to do about it. I reentered the bathroom and sat down criss-cross on the floor with the door locked. This is not only the most private place, but the guy’s internet connection works best in this area too. My hands unfolded the laptop and I start it up. Several minutes go by as I wait. I suddenly feel what was making me move in haste to get here. I rarely do this, but when I do, I intend to make sure I can enjoy it and have time to clean up afterwards. I am talking about, or course, messing in my diaper. For some reason, the feeling of my fecal matter exiting my body gives me an emotional and sexual explosion. An indescribable feeling that only the soft touch of a woman can compare. There are times where I feel like there is something seriously wrong with me, and then there are time where I just say "fuck the world and your social conformity".
My computer finally boots up and I log onto a social diaper website called "Diaper buddies". It's one of many that I have. I go on every now and check my messages, then go and eye the beautiful girl, which is what I'm doing now. I quickly go through my friends list and friend her profile. My hand move feverishly as I want to make every second count. Finally, her face pops up and I click on her picture. Her picture speaks so much to me, it's almost as if she is not real, which sometimes sends me into a slump. The way her hair glistens from the camera flash and her blue eyes covered by glasses stare into mine, it's almost as if she is in the room. At the very bottom of the picture, a small glimpse of her diaper comes into it. In one part of my mind, it's real, as real as anything could be, but in the other part, my mind tells me cloud nine is closed and entry is only by waiting in a long line. Just standing in line, waiting for my chance to feel that feeling that the movies are always shoving in my face, is not how I want to live my life, but do I have a choice?
I feel my bottom swell with pain as my body knows it is in a diaper and is used to the feeling of going without a toilet. I have a fear of one day losing control and maybe even having to wear everyday, which may seem glamorous to some, but is not as glamorous to me. I forced my body to hold it back with everything I have as not to let my body lose control, but finally, it comes. The pain soon dissolves and I feel a warm sensation over my bottom. I feel the emotional and sexual explosion just then. All the forces of the universe and my soul collide into a cascade of colorful music playing in my mind and inside my eyelids. Everything suddenly matters, then nothing matters. Everything is at peace, yet war ravages my mind like one man against an army of thousands. Yet, there is no fear in his eyes. He knows the answers to everything and he knows where it will all end for him, for them, and for all of us.
In the slew of things running through my mind, I look at the laptop and her beautiful face. I feel my hand come off my body and onto the keyboard. The mouse scrolls over the message bar with such ease, it's almost like it's doing it by itself. The bar is clicked and the box appears. Words from my mind, heart and soul pour onto the keyboard like it's the only thing that matters. The words say everything, but from the wrong the eyes it will mean nothing. Please, let her eyes be the right eyes.
The waterfall of hopes and dreams slowly dries and I clean myself up. I shower, wrap up the dirty diaper and dress myself in clean cloths. I exited the bathroom to a still silent house, and I locate the clock on the wall. It reads 4:30. Stan should be home any minute now. I exited the back door, opened the trash receptacle, lifted up a trash bag and put the diaper underneath. No one will ever know. I reentered the house and light some incense. I find it very calming and it clears my mind of all the things that should matter, but doesn't right now. It also helps clear the smell. I sat on the couch with my guitar and let the feelings that were just felt rub off onto my guitar. Simple strumming turns into a solo. My fingers move along the fret broad, making noise that sound like love, anarchy, and hope. The sound of wheels moving against the pavement come up and slowly stop. A car door slams shut and footsteps approach the house. The door opens and Stan pops his head in. Before any formal greeting happens, a phrase I enjoy hearing leaves his mouth. "You were right." He flashes a brace on his wrist and quickly puts it back to his side.
"I told you. And you were all worried."
"It's just a minor ache that will go away in a week. I just need to lay off drumming for a bit." He tells me as he sits down on the couch.
"Yeah, me and Adam can work on some guitar stuff I got in my mind."
"Really, can I hear."
"Sure." I lift my guitar and play the rhythm for him. His eyes widen as I am only half-way through. When the final note is plucked, I turn to him as his overjoyed expression explodes everywhere. "That was badass! You wrote that?" He say in excitement
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"Dude, it sounds like a mix of like, punk, metal, reggae rock. Dude, that was awesome. What were listening to?"
"Nothing."
"Are you high? Did you take some mind-altering drugs while I was away?"
"No."
"We have go to use that in a song."
"You got any ideas?"
"I got a slow, surf beat you can put that to. Add some distortion, speed it up, we got a song." He looks at his wrist and suddenly realized he will have to wait a week before we can start working again. His hands slam against his head as he exclaims his dissatisfaction. "Fuck!"
"Hey, you wanted to see the doctor." I told him. His head leaves his hands and stares at me.
"Fuck you."

Going Nowhere, Chapter Five: So Long and Thanks For All The Misery

Adam truck was packed. I'm surprise it can still move. We got all our stuff, or at least the stuff we need in Fresno, anyways, and we were packed. I'm happy to be leaving this hell hole of a town, but I'm more excited because I just got my acceptance letter to Cal State Fresno. I was happy when it came in because I rejected from 7 other schools that I applied to. This was my second to last one that I sent and I was hoping it would be the one because I don't like getting to close to the wire. Also, where I got into pretty much dictated where we moved, and by the grace of god we found a one bedroom, one bathroom house for $600 a month. It was enough room for three guys to live, sleep and practice. With all of us pitching in, we had $6000 to survive on until one of us gets a job, and I was praying it would be soon.
Of course, one concern still looms. My desire to wear diapers is going to be put aside for a while, but I might be able to enjoy them every now and then. Who knows, I might move and get a place of my own someday.
I stood outside of my house and waved my goodbye to my mom and dad. They were kind of sad, but I told them I would visit. My sis, on the other hand, was more than excited. She was the only one home now and she didn't have to put up with my bands music anymore. I hugged my mother one last time. Man, she was a wreck. My dad came over and pried her away from me and gave me a handshake. He looked me in the eyes and smiled. "Listen, Brian. You are entering the real world and it will not be as good to you as home was. Just get on your feet and take it like a man."
"Don't worry, dad. I'm smart enough to keep myself in line."
"Alright." I shook his hand one last time and got into the truck with Stan and Adam. "Let's fucking do this, man." Adam said with the biggest grin on his face I've seen in a long time.
"Hell yeah!" Stan practically shouted in my ear. "California, here we come." The car pulled away from my old home and I watched it drift off into the distance. I was finally leaving this world behind. I have no reason to stay and no admiration of coming back. We passed Mandy's house, Tiffany's house, and even Samantha Walter's house. I had little care for these people anymore. It all dried up for everyone in this town, with exception of my family. It was the only reason. I had no care for the bullies, the conformist, the whiners, the people who think they can force their ideals onto you, and especially the people who don't know how to except things. They can't just let it be. They to make sure their dislike for it exist and must be tolerated, or else you will never fit in. So what? Does it look like I want to fit your moral standard. To hell with them. To hell with them all. So long and thanks for all the misery, people.
We drove all the way to the end of town and pulled over to the sign that greeted people to our town. It was a huge white sign and the letters loomed over the black two cab truck as if to say, "You are going nowhere like always". Maybe, but nowhere was better then here. Stan unbuckled his seatbelt and reach into the bag by his feet. Adam's head peered through the back seat with a look of confusion. "What are you doing?"
"One second. I've been want to do this since my freshmen year." He pulled out a can of spray-paint and a camera. "Here, Brian." He handed me the small camera. "I want you to take a picture of this, okay?"
"Sure, but don't fuck up. Last thing we need to do is get a fine."
"Don't worry." He exited the truck and looked around for any cop cars or an authority figure. He saw none and pulled the top of the can of spray-paint. He shook the can violently and began to cross out the town name. The green paint beautifully cover the name of this town of which we've all come to dislike for our own personal reasons. Once the name was completely covered, his hand lowered and began writing a name. This name was something I coined a while back and he became obsessed with it, almost to the point where he referred to the town by it. The letters appeared, big and gleaming, over the white sign. Once he was down, I picked up the camera and took a picture of it. Stan quickly reentered the truck and gestured to Adam to start driving away. I scrolled through the pictures to find the right one. At the very bottom of the stack, it stood proud and was a perfect summary of our feelings in this place. On the sign, the replacement name for our former home read "NOTHINGTOWN". It was nothing to us. It was once, but they let it slip through their hands. So long, nothingtown...

Going Nowhere, Chapter Four: The Truth is..

We exited the stage after a heart pounding performance. I was more nervous about this then anything I have ever done before. The crowd applauded and seemed to be very pleased by our performance, despite it being nothing but conformist. That's what I thought, anyway. We passed another band who performed earlier that night. The singer looked at me and gave me a thumbs up. "Great job, man. That was awesome." he said
"Really? You think so?" I said out of breath
"Dude, seriously. All those other crappy bands have nothing on you guys."
"Yeah, I was really nervous."
"Don't be. It's safe to say you are the best vocalist in this godforsaken town."
"Really?"
"Yeah, every other local band I see is just mediocre or even terrible singers. You bands lucky to have you."
"Yeah, well I'm lucky to have my band."
"Same here. I'm thinking of leaving this place after we graduate and heading to the So Cal."
"Really? What about college?"
"I might go to college there, but who knows. I just want to get outta here."
"Yeah, I know." He started to walk away when I remembered something. "Hey, are you still up for the LA show?"
"If we can make the trip." He and his band walked away and I joined Adam and Stan behind the theatre. We were all tired and didn't want to stay and see the underclassmen perform a cover of some stupid pop-punk band. We loaded Adam's truck with our stuff and left for Jack in the Box. The ride was filled with stupid banter about each others mothers and ex-girlfriends. The guys were careful to bring up Mandy. We haven't spoken in a while and I haven't made any attempts to do so. I guess I just lost interest in her.
Adam pulled into the parking lot slowly and parked. We exited the truck and walked through the empty lot and into the almost empty restaurant. We ordered our food and took a seat while we waited. We continued on about what we were going to do after we graduated, and the question I've been waiting to hear made itself present. It was taking it;s time, but it's finally here. I didn't know what to do when it came, though. Nothing I can do, really. "So what about the band?" Adam asked. A silence hovered over us with a look of unsure stares looking back and forth at each other.
"I definitely have no idea what I'm doing." Stan made apparent that he hadn't thought much about his future. I don't blame him. It's a scary thought.
"I got two ideas for what I'm going to do. Either move out and apply to some schools out of state or stay home, go to community college for a year, then leave." I admitted.
"But where?" Adam asked.
"I don't know." Idea's flourished through my mind, but one stuck out. "Southern California?" Adam and Stan looked at me and then stared at each other and returned their gaze's back to me. "Southern California..." Stan said thinking intently.
"What, you guys aren’t considering it, are you?"
"It's an idea." Adam stated. "A damn good idea."
"What? We can't afford it."
"You can't afford it alone". Stan pointed out, "All three of us in a one bedroom apartment could survive, and think." He paused for a second, "Southern California. The place were punk rock thrives. If we go down there, we could make something of ourselves."
"Are you sure?"
"Brian, let me ask you this: What career do you want in life?" I paused and thought for a second. I went over every option in my head and couldn't think of anything. I didn't want to be a scientist, or a doctor, or a lawyer, or even a teacher. I turned back to Stan whose point was reaffirmed. "You see. We all don't have a goal in life and this band is all we care about. So..."
"147!" the women behind the counter shouted. Adam got up and went to retrieve the food while Stan continued with his point. "We can do it, man." He could tell I was still not convinced. "You knew your the best vocalist in this place, and I'm the only drummer who can not only change tempos during a song, but to the accurate tempo we wrote. No other idiot in this town can do that."
"What about Adam?" I asked
"Well... He... He... He owns a bass, but that’s not the point. Okay, we are not the most intelligent assholes around," Adam sat down with our food, "But we can pull this off."
"I'm still not sure."
"Okay." Stan held up his hands in defeat. "It's a fresh idea. Sit on it and lets eat."
We walked out of the restaurant and made our way to Adam's truck. I saw a little white car parked next to it. I immediately recognized it and the girl leaning against the car. It was Mandy. She must have followed us and waited for me to come out from the restaurant. "Uh-oh", Adam muttered under his voice. He never liked Mandy... ever. He was glad that we broke up. She looked at him with disgust and returned he eyes to me. "Brian, can we talk?"
"Alright." I owed it to her. We did go out for 11 months and just broke up abruptly. I walked over to her. She looked at me with her blue eyes and spoke softly. "Could we go to your house and talk on the way." She asked.
"Sure." I turned to Stan and Adam, "Guys, you go along without me."
"Sure, man. See you later." Adam relied
"Later." Stan shouted, "And think about I said."
"Yeah." I waved to them as Adam pulled away in his black truck. It was just me and Mandy alone in this parking lot. I didn't know what words could be said. I had nothing to say to her. "Let's go." She finally said. We got into the car and she started it up and left the parking lot. "So, it's been three weeks and you haven't called."
"We broke up." She stopped the car in the middle of the dead street and stared at me. "Is that what you have to say to me, after all we've been through."
"What do you what me to say?"
"I don't know. I just want you to say something other then the usual shit. It's almost like you have nothing on your mind."
"What if I have nothing to say to you."
"Are you angry at me?"
"No, far from it."
"Then what is it." We started moving again.
"I don't know how to say it without hurting you feelings."
"Just say it."
"I don't love you." She didn't reply right away. She just soaked it in. "I didn't call because I felt that our relationship just ran its course."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For treating you badly."
"You didn't."
"Well, how was I supposed to know? You never called to say you're sorry and I thought you hated me."
"It's not you. It's nothing you did. You were right."
"What do you mean?"
"I never did fully let you in."
"You mean you were keeping secrets?"
"Yes."
"Like what?"
"Not your typical secret."
"Were you cheating?"
"Nothing like that."
"Well, what is it?"
"I just can't tell you."
"Why not!? You know I love you and I wouldn't think differently about you no matter what you say. Please."
"I'm afraid..."
"Of what?"
"Because!" I hesitated for a moment. I almost blurted it out, "It's something personal."
"I thought you loved me?" She said as tears formed in her eyes.
"I don't. Not anymore, at least."
"Your full of shit." She spoke with sudden anger amidst her sorrow.
"You wanted the truth and the truth is I don't love you. What else is do you want me to say."
"Fine. So this is how it will end?"
"I guess so."
"Goodbye, Brian."
"Goodbye."
I watched her car drive away as I let myself into my house. I walked up the stairs and entered my room. I looked out the window and saw my hometown. It wasn't just Mandy and I who have run our course. It was the whole town and I. I wanted out of here. I wanted out this boring life. The life never worked out for me. I remember my first day of kindergarten to vividly for my own good. It was like that for a long time, but the insults got worse. I got picked on for liking different things, for being in band instead of the football team, because I pushed people away and was always alone because I preferred it that was. When it did finally stop, the damage was already done. I felt alone, hurt and insecure. That’s when my diaper fetish kicked in. I guess it was to take the hurt away... or was it. I still don't think that’s it. The reason is still hiding beyond the reaches of mind and it doesn't look like it will show itself anytime soon. What was left to do. Should I just stay and continue living in this place that has gone so bad for me or..., Then it clicked. It all made sense. I knew what had to be done. I grasped my cell phone that was in my pocket and search through my list of numbers. I pressed dial and listen to it ringing. Then I heard the other end pick up. "Hello?"
"Stan."
"Hey, Brian. What did you an Mandy talk about?"
"Never mind that now. Listen, do you think we could survive in California."
"Definitely. If we pull all the money we have, we could get a small one bedroom apartment and work on getting our name out."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Alright, I'm in."

Going Nowhere, Chapter Three: Heartbreaking Music

The loud distorted guitars and pounding drums blocked out all thoughts in my mind. We've practiced so much, my finger move along the fret board like instinct. The words that I wrote on the paper come out of my mouth and into the microphone without any hesitation or missed lyric. I could feel all the anger that swelled up inside leave my body in my guttural yell. We finish the song with a bang and we let silence fill the room for a second. Before I can say anything, I hear the door open from behind me. I turn to see my younger sister standing with a frustrated expression plastered over her normally pretty face. "Why can't you guys practice in the garage like normal bands?" She growls at us.
"What? Mom and Dad don't mind." I point out
"That because they are at the end of the hall with the door closed."
"Whatever. Just get your beauty sleep."
"Fuck you!" She mumbles it low enough so that I and the others could hear, but not for our parents to hear. She walks into her room next door and slams the door shut. My brother moved out four months ago and my parents let me use his old room as a practice room for my band, The Abominations. I turn to my bass player and drummer who have shocked looks on their faces. "Dude," Adam, gently muting his bass, starts shaking his head, "Your sister is hot when she is mad."
"Yeah, I never thought of that. Maybe because she is my sister!"
"Do you guys think that was a good run through?" Stan, our drummer, asked.
"Maybe we should do "Mexican Watchtower" one more time? I kind of messed up my solo." I admitted. "I slipped up toward the middle, but picked it up toward the end."
"Yeah, I heard that. Maybe we should do "Start Running" again. I got an idea for what to do in that break after the second chorus."
"How does it go?"
"Something like this." He lifts his sticks and starts a pattern between his floor tom and the snare with a couple hits of the cymbals. I've been doing this awhile, but a cymbal crash still makes me cringe whenever I hear it. He ends it and looks at Adam and I for approval. "It sounds cool" Adam states
"Yeah, do you want to take it at the second verse to try it?" I asked them both
"Sure." They both agreed.
11:00 rolls around as Adam leaves for his home. He says goodbye and heads out to his truck. Stan makes himself comfortable on the couch while I grabbed a glass of water. All that singing really makes me thirsty. I set the glass down and leaped onto the couch next to him as he set the TV on a cartoon show for adults. "So, what are we playing for the talent show?" He asked.
"I don't know. We only got six songs, but they are all good songs. What do you like?"
"Maybe "Start Running". I like what you do for the chorus."
"Alright, we'll practice it next time and have it ready for the talent show."
"What about Adam's vote?"
"Ah, he won't care. Besides, I think he would go for that one, too."
"So, I heard you and Mandy broke up."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Seriously, why did you guys break up?"
"She thought I wasn't serious enough. I was always making jokes and stuff."
"Yeah, I know the feeling. Tiffany thought the same about me."
"Tiffany was cute though. I would've straighten up for her."
"Yeah, but she was all hardcore Asian. She was, like, ultra proud of her heritage and she thought I was too white washed."
"What, being yellow is good enough? You have to talk like the loudspeaker at the Tai Hut drive through?"
"I guess so," he chuckled. A short pause occurred, "But, seriously, is that all?"
"Is what all?"
"Mandy. She broke up with you because you told a lot of jokes about stuff?"
"That’s the main thing."
"What else?"
"She thought I was keeping secrets from her."
"Were you?"
"No." I thought for a second about what I had hidden under my bed and wondered if she ever knew.
“She was paranoid.”
“Yeah, but I don’t blame her. Her last two boyfriends cheated on her, and I don’t mean kissing and hugging, I mean full on cheating.”
“Did you two… you know?” He looked at me with a curious expression.
“No. She and I weren’t that interested in that.”
“Damn. Not interested in sex? What else is there in a high school romance?”
“Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
“So, you wouldn’t want to make up with her.”
“I guess us breaking up was the only option. She could continue trying to make me act serious and let herself fully into my life and I’ll just keep pushing her away.”
“So you don’t love her?”
“Nope.”
“Damn, that’s cold.”
“Whatever.”
We continued on about Graduation and what we were going to do after High School. I had enough money from my job at the movie theatre that I could move out and survive for a while. I got a few scholarships for schools and I was going to pay the rest in loans, but I wondered if I had enough to keep my head above water. I've only worked there for the past 3 months and only had almost $3000 saved up. I was hoping to get some kind of a pay raise, but no luck. I was pondering the idea of staying home for another year while going to school, then moving out, which seemed like the more reasonable solution.
Then there’s my secret. I've been lucky to hide my diaper fetish from my family for this long. Would I be pushing it with another year? When I thought about it, I figured I had no choice. I would either be risk drowning in the real world versus the shame I would feel if my parents found out about my secret. I had to do the most reasonable choice, because I had no choice in the end.
Stan left and I went upstairs to go to bed. My sister was still up on her computer when I past her room. I went into my room and heard my dad snoring through his door. It made me think of how my mom could put up with my bands music so easily. I went into my room, closed and locked the door, and put myself into a diaper. I've been doing this for a while now. It hasn't changed anything and sometimes I'm afraid it could. I try to take it slow, though. I went onto my computer and went into my diaper website. I actually have some close friends I met on the internet. It was nice to be able to talk to someone about wearing diapers and such. One thing I wanted more then friendship was someone to be intimate with and wasn't confused or put off by diapers. It was understandable if they were. I've had three serious girlfriends the past 4 years of high school and not a single one knew about my secret. I was persecuted enough when I was little and I just barely got over it. I didn't need it to start all over again. That was the last thing I wanted. I opened my account and saw no new messages. Then I turned my attention to a girl I've been secretly admiring for the past month and a half. I've haven't talked to her for several reasons. One of which was I didn't know if she was real and I didn't want to ruin my fantasy. So many fake people on the internet, it makes connecting with people this way harder. I just stared at her photo and admired her beauty. Her red hair was so full and her blue eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue I have ever seen. God, I feel so alone

Going Nowhere, Chapter Two: What Reasons?

The cold, brisk wind battered my face as I rode my bicycle against the wind. The winter is so beautiful, but it's get annoying when your car is stuck under a foot an a half of snow and it can't move. At least it's not too deep. Anymore more snow and I would be stuck in my house for days until I can go out and get my supplies. I needed these things badly. I had to wait until my parents left before I could go out, get them, and return with enough time to enjoy them.
I double check the garage door as I approached. It was closed. That’s a good sign. I slowed my bike down and carefully wheel through the slippery driveway my father and I just shoveled this morning. I gazed at the snow on our two story house and wheeled my bike to the side of my house. I unlocked the gate and wheeled it through and left it there as I took my shopping bag into the empty house. My brother and sister where both gone at their friends and my parents were gone shopping. They should be gone for at least another hour. I entered through the kitchen door in the back of the house. The kitchen smelt of recently cooked pumpkin pie that was sitting on the sink. I wasn't hungry and had little interest in it anyways. My concern was on the bag. I entered into the spotless living room and hurried up the stairs.
My brother's room was closed and had a stop sign hung on the door. He never elaborate on how he got it, but he assured me it wasn't by illegal means. My sister's room, on the other hand, was wide open and messy. She's always out doing something or on the computer talking to friends. I passed the room and enter my room at the very end of the hall, next to my sister's and parents room. I entered and threw my bag on to my bed, locked the door, and quickly peered out the window. No one was home. It was safe. I turned my attention on the bag and it's contents as I removed my jacket, beanie and gloves. I tossed them onto the floor carelessly, slowly approached and removed from the bag what was my only vice for the last five years. The light blue packaging displayed the name of the brand and the product itself. Just by looking at it, I felt like the world was slowly vanishing. All the teasing and the pressure was slowly drifting off into non-existence just by looking at the package. I carefully opened the package and pulled it out. In my hands was all the comfort and security I desired. With it, nothing could hurt me. I held a thick, white adult diaper.
At first, someone might think, "Why is a diaper so comforting to you? Isn't that for kids?". I would understand and agree. While it is strange, it helps me return to a time before the world turn cold. It relaxes my mind and assures me that no matter what, the world is not always as cruel as it seems. I felt better just by holding it. I couldn't get it on fast enough. I hid the remaining diapers under my bed and unfolded the one in my hand. I laid it on the bed and removed my pants and underwear. I sat down onto the diaper and could feel the soft padding caressing my skin. I stretched out the back of the diaper and pulled the front over my exposed body. I lifted my t-shirt to my chest so it wouldn't get in the way. I pulled the left side of the back of my diaper up over the front and fastened the bottom tape first. I repeated the process on my right side and then pulled the top tapes on both sides into place. I could feel the snug diaper against my body. I quickly got under the covers of my bed and lied there for a short period of time. I just wanted to spend a few short moment with the dry diaper on.
Another facet of my vice is my urge to use the diaper. Now, many people would already be surprised that I wanted to wear a diaper, but all would just be floored by my choice to use it for it's purpose. Why? I don't know why. It's so hard to explain, I can't even figure it out. I don't even care right now. I let my brain go as I felt my bodily fluids exit my body onto me. The warmth does me in and I feel the world is all gone. Nothing is here except me in my diaper. For thirty minutes, I lied there alone. I decided that was enough for today and I got up from my bed and removed the soiled diaper.
I jumped onto the couch and grasped the remote into my hand. The soiled diaper was hidden in the trash can outside under the kitchen trash bag. Nobody ever checks the garbage, so I'm safe. I switch on the TV to a movie I've seen before, but I don't pay attention to it. My mind it thinking about my reasons. Why do I wear a diaper? What are the reasons behind it. Up until this year, I haven't had the slightest idea, but this year in my psychology class, I learned about the human mind and Professor Fraud. His research made me think about the satisfaction I get from wearing diapers.
Could it be sexual? I did have an erection, but I didn't pay any attention to it. I guess it was just reacting to my mind and how it felt. Could it have something to do with my personal life? Not really. I get along very well with my family and have no problems with anyone close. What about my social life? I felt maybe the kids were what drove me to this desire. I remembered how my first day of school was. It wasn't like anything my parents or my brother had explained to me. It was bad. My social status hasn't improved much since than, either.
My parent were always concerned about that, too. I remember them talking with my teachers and my social interaction with other kids. My teachers were adamant on figuring out what was going wrong, but I already knew the problem. They wouldn't understand, though. The kids could sense my weakness and my difference and they feasted their growing cruelty by praying on me. It all started with that one girl, Samantha Walters. She was the catalyst to which the other children were guided along the path. Every joke was the same, whether it was my curly hair, my tendencies to be alone all the time and my passion from music.
I remember when I picked up the clarinet. I enjoyed hours of playing that instrument, but the kids saw it as activity for wussies and believed only in sports and acceptance to their inner circles, to which I was cast away from. All because I didn't want to try. I saw no reason. They were cruel and I didn't want to associate with them. Why change myself so they would accept me. It made no sense, even at my age. My train of though was soon broken by a loud bang. I turned my head to the door. My dad's head peered in and looked for me. "Hey, Bri. Could you go upstairs for about a half hour?" He said enthusiastically
"Sure, Dad." I responded rather quickly and headed back upstairs. I didn't want to know what I got for Christmas because I liked to be surprised. I entered my room, closed the door and went on my computer for the rest of the night.

Going Nowhere, Chapter One: Right From The Start

I knew I was different. Everyone could tell. It was like some kind of obvious sign that I couldn't see, but everyone around me could not just see it, but know it off the top of their heads. Right from the start, it was there. Just hovering right over me like an odor you can't wash away. I knew it was there because they could see it and made sure they let me know it was there. I remember it like it was yesterday.
Kindergarten was frightening. To a child who had nothing else in these world but his mother, being away from her was frightening and kindergarten made me realize this fear. It's not necessarily my mother, but someone in general. A fear of being alone in the cold, harsh world where no one gave a damn about a lost child, searching for this enigma called home. Right from the start, I needed someone make everything alright.
The car stopped and the engine died away as I peered my eyes out the window. There were other little children standing in front the door, waiting for something. My mother got out from the driver side and went all the way around the back seat passenger side to let me out. The door opened and I realized how gloomy of a day it was. Dark clouds blocked the sun from shining through and showed a color that seemed familiar, almost as if this was some form of deja vu. My mother grabbed my hand and led me to the door. I stood with other little children as my mother watched from a distance. Why was she far away? What was everyone waiting for?
Suddenly, the door opened and an elderly woman peered out. She was wearing a green blouse and tan pants. The decades she has seen showed on her face quite visibly and her hair was short and silver. "Why, hello, Children." She spoke to us. She exited the doorway she had appeared from and gestured us to go inside. Like obedient cattle, we did as we were told, or in this case expected to do. I didn't have to go in, but I was expected to go or else I would be made to. Children never have much choice on their life and how it is supposed to run. Of course, it's obvious why it is like that. We all complied as a mob of twelve or thirteen kids entered the room. I looked around as soon as I entered. The room was big colorful. The walls were decorated with all assortments of animals and settings to create what the elderly woman called a "safe learning environment", which to a child meant nothing. Only the parent were concerned with that sort of thing. To my left were cabinets with hooks in them. Next to them were some little boxes neatly stacked one on top of the other. These were called "cubbies", which housed personal belongings while we spend our time here.
In the very center of the room stood four large book selves, each with their back to each other and facing the four walls of the room. The two closest to me had tables and chairs in front of them. The table were light brown and very clean. The entire surface was bare with the exception of a few blue boxes neatly lined in the center of the table. Across the two cabinets adjacent to these were sink with an orange surface and towels and a black board with a mat in front of it. The elderly woman guided us to the mat and had us all sit down with our legs criss-crossed. She began talking as our parents remained at the front door. Every so often, I would turn my head and look at the door and the group began to dissolve away. It was as if the parent were leaving. Why? Don't they care about us?
My mother was still here, though. It made me feel safe inside. I felt she would never leave. My feelings, however, were wrong. I turned my head, expecting to see the face of the woman who guided my for the last five year looking back at me. She wasn't there. She left me like the others. How could she do this to me? Why? Was I bad? Tears began rushing to my eyes and flooded my face. The other children were staring back at me, as if to say, "What's wrong with him?". The elderly woman quickly remedied the situation by holding me in her arms and continuing with the lecture.
The tears stopped and I was again alone, this time used to my surroundings. It was now time for us to go outside for what our teacher affectionately called Playtime. The teacher, who name was Mrs. Anderson, led us to the door opposite from where we came from and let us go out to the playground. It was big and very spread out. Two sand pits were split from each other by a cement walkway that led to a gate entrance. Where it led was impossible to tell because it was covered. It the sand pit to my left was a slide and a jungle gym. To the right were swings. Though they seemed ever so inviting, the circumstance changed my attitude on the situation. I sat in the corner on the concrete in the shade and retreated into myself. I didn't want to talk to anybody. This was not the case, however. Two little girls, one blonde, one brunette, approached me. Both of them were wearing similar dresses and had their hairs in pony tails. The brunette, with an bossy expression, spoke out to me. "Are you done crying, crybaby?". The other dignified her insult with wild laugh. "What's with you hair?", she continued, "It looks like poodle!", she roared at the expense of my curly black hair. They gave it to me a few more times and then left to go play a game.
That day, I learned what school was. For nine months, six hours every weekday, I had to come here to gain an education so that I could function in the real world. I was also supposed to expand my social skills by making friends and talking to people. All this for 13 years straight. If this was the torture I have to put up with, the next 13 year will be the worst years of my life. I know this right from the start.

Inside My MusicBox

Hey, this is MusicBaby and this is my blog where I am going to post all my stories. My stories are fictional and are AB/DL oriented. Enjoy.