Jason's Journey

The Accident

I can't remember the last time I peed my pants. I close my eyes and try to pretend to be somewhere else while I flood my diaper with urine. As much as I try, I can't slow down the stream, it just keeps going and going until my diaper is completely soaked in pee. It's warm and mushy and I feel way too many new sensations down there.

I fumble around trying to take off my pants and diaper, but moving around makes the pee touch me even more, so I just sit still in the sandbox. I don't move at all and hopefully they come and get me out of this predicament.

I don't understand why I can't just wake up. This dream has gone too far, and I want this to be over. I want to wake up and live my shitty adult life. I try to pinch myself awake and all it does is make my eyes tear up, and I start silently sobbing. So much is building up, the embarrassment and shame of peeing my pants, the helplessness of not being able to stop it or get out of this disgusting diaper, and the fear deep down that I might actually not be dreaming.

I guess my cries are heard by Alysa because it isn't long before she scoops me up and checks my diaper. "It's okay," she rocks me side to side. "It's okay. I'll get you all cleaned up just now."

I don't know why, but I actually felt pretty soothed by her, and my cries start to die down until they are just soft hiccups. She takes me up to the kiddie room. I decide to keep my eyes closed for the whole ordeal. It's too embarrassing to have her clean me up like I'm a baby. It's even worse when she pulls my leg up in the air to get me thoroughly cleaned up. I can feel her slide a fresh diaper under my butt.

My lip quivers for a moment as the truth of that action kicks in. It's going to happen again. She's fully prepared for me to pee myself, again and again, or...even worse. Oh, god. No, I can't think about that right now. This is all already too much.

"My baby had some big feelings, didn't he," Alysa lifts me in the air, "Aren't you happy you're all clean now," she bounces me some more and kisses me all over my face.

The bouncing makes me forget my previous train of thought, and I start thinking about how cool it would be to be flying through the clouds, like the ones on the ceiling. I bet I could be an astronaut when I grow up and I can zip through the sky like superman. I stretch my arms and legs out, imagining how the wind would feel through my hair.

"Aww, my baby is playing pretend," she swings me around a little in the air. "Yes, you are!"

My eyes snap open again, and I'm a little disoriented. Was I really just pretending I was an astronaut? Where is this coming from? I have so many questions, and I have no way of asking them because neither Alysa nor Isaiah seems to understand anything that I'm saying. I really don't know what I'm supposed to do here.

I just want to figure out whatever is the kill switch for this dream. I'm tired, and I really don't want to be a little kid anymore. I know it's ironic since I had a crappy childhood moving through the foster care system, but I can't imagine going through preschool and kindergarten again as a 20-year-old. I shudder.

Yeah, let's not.

Alysa takes me downstairs and sits me at a little kid table. It's small enough that I can actually sit on the chair with my feet mostly touching the floor. I sit and swing my legs. I've got to figure out why I won't wake up. My chest tightens for a moment. What if I'm in a coma? I could be stuck like this for months or years.

I grab a fistful of my shirt. No, I won't let that happen.

When Alysa comes back over to me, she gives me a plastic plate with some crackers and cheese on it. I keep my mind occupied looking around at the house. It's grand, and there's so much open space. The design of the house is going to make finding a hiding place especially hard. Escape seems even more grim. They have all kinds of babyproofing gadgets on the doors and cabinets.