A new problem I'd developed as a result of the shrinking I was stuck dealing with was that I was tired more often than I had been. I took naps throughout the day whenever I was tired and went to bed earlier than I used to. I hated that my body was forcing me to act more and more like a child. It already sucked that my life was changing and I couldn't live like a normal eighteen-year-old. Having to deal with the multitude of changes was tough.
We finished dinner and our movie and I was already ready for bed. I hated to end our night so early but I could barely keep my eyes open.
Mom told me to go get a shower and she would be up once she finished putting away the rest of our dinner. She asked me several times if I was capable of getting a shower on my own as if I needed her to help me wash my hair.
It scared me to think that I could get to a point where I couldn't shower on my own. What if I got to a point where I couldn't be left alone? Being dependent on someone for help was one thing but not being able to do basic things at all was terrifying.
I finished my shower and walked back to my bedroom. My clothes were lying on the bed along with a clean diaper. I wanted to be able to get myself dressed, diaper included, but I still needed help with my diaper.
I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and tugged it so it covered everything. I didn't like being so open and exposed. But it wasn't like there was much I could do about it.
I stuck my head out my bedroom door and yelled for Mom. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too long. I didn't want to have an accident because I wasn't wearing a diaper.
Mom was only a minute before she came upstairs. She brought my diaper bag up with her. She quickly got a diaper out and put it on me. She said she wasn't good at changing me but she was getting better.
"There you go, sweetie. Do you want me to get you tucked in for bed?"
"I have to brush my teeth first."
"Okay. Go ahead."
I was only gone a few minutes before I was back and ready for bed.
Mom pulled back the blankets so I could get comfortable in bed. The blankets and pillows were just basic blankets Mom got for the bed. I took my bedding when I moved. It made my room feel less like my room and more like a guest room.
I rolled onto my side as Mom covered me up with the blanket.
"How come you don't use the stuffed animals Eric and Theo got you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Mom, stuffed animals are for babies."
"I don't think they are. If stuffed animals help you sleep, I don't see what's wrong with having them."
"I didn't want them in the first place. My doctor made me get one."
"Maybe she's onto something."
"Mom, you're not gonna convince me otherwise."
She sighed. "I just think you're not being open-minded. I know there are a lot of things you don't want to do that are being asked of you but I think if you gave some of them a chance, you'd realize that they aren't so bad. Would it hurt to sleep with a stuffed animal?"
"You don't get it, Mom. I'm eighteen. I shouldn't be sleeping with stuffed animals or using binkies or drinking from sippy cups."
Mom sat down on the edge of my bed. "I know it's not conventional at your age but things are different. You have the opportunity to try it without it being weird. The only person making it awkward is you."
I groaned in frustration. She was never going to understand. She wasn't the one living with my condition. It was easy for her to make me do baby stuff and say it was fine. She was used to baby-ing me. To her, I was always going to be her baby. But I wanted to grow up.
Mom brushed my hair away from my forehead. "I know this is hard on you, sweetheart. I don't mean to make it any harder. I just think this would be a good chance for you to try to relax and focus on having fun. Don't focus on what you can't control or what other people would think of you."
"I don't know how to not do that."
"Just do what makes you happy." She leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Good night, sweetheart. We can talk more in the morning."
I picked up my binky by the clip that attached it to my clothes and stuck it in my mouth. Just using one around Mom was enough to make my face flush. Part of me didn't want her to think I was getting used to my new life and adjusting to my new behaviors and expectations. But the other part of me was worried she would treat me differently just because I used a binky. It was nice when people didn't automatically know about my condition so they wouldn't treat me differently. I liked pretending that I was normal.
I couldn't do that if I used binkies or stuffed animals.
Mom walked to the door and turned off the light. I'd never noticed it until then but she put a night light in the outlet closest to the door so the room wouldn't be too dark for me. She smiled at me before she shut my door.
YOU ARE READING
Game Over: Life's Over
Teen FictionRated 18+. This story will feature strong language that may not be suitable for those under 18. A new genetic mutation has formed in humans that causes mental and physical regression to begin at the age of 18. All children are tested at 17 to determ...