Chapter 14

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a familiar melody of chirps and bells. Out of instinct more than anything, I scrambled to find the source. At some point it stopped, and I just sat on the edge of my bed trying to unravel the thread that melody and tugged loose. When the melody started again, I quickly found the culprit: a cellphone that had fallen in between the nightstand and the bed. My cellphone. Did I own a cellphone? I answered it.

“H-hello?”

“Claire?” A voice on the other, distorted by static. “Are…okay? You…supposed…back to work…”

“What?” I spoke loudly trying to overcome the static, but I wasn’t sure they could hear me.

“Claire? Cla…there?...okay?”

There as a loud beep in my ear and I jerked the phone away from my head. The battery had died.

I set the phone on the nightstand and tried to work out what the person had been saying. Back to work? Yes…yes, that sounded familiar. I had a job. Didn’t I? No, babies didn’t have jobs except…yes, I distinctly remembered it now. I worked in a law firm. I worked in a law firm, had an apartment, a life, somewhere far away from here. I was having trouble remembering who I was. Or maybe I was remembering too much, feeling like I had too many conflicting memories.

I had to call someone. I had to call the person on the phone back, maybe they could help me figure out who I was. I got up from the bed and started to leave the room, hoping I could find a phone somewhere in this house. Halfway across the room, I was stopped by the familiar pressure in my lower stomach that told me I needed to pee. It seemed to me like I was supposed to do something about that, but what? Wasn’t I supposed to just let it go? Wasn’t that why I was wearing a diaper? With that in mind, however, the better question was why was I wearing a diaper in the first place? Yes, that’s right, because babies wore diapers and that’s what I was; I was still too little to be potty trained, so I wore diapers. Except, no, I had a job, a life, I was a big girl—I mean, an adult, I was potty trained and wore panties. That sounded right, but I couldn’t deny that I was wearing a diaper.

My train of thought was derailed as the pressure suddenly intensified and then disappeared as my diaper filled with warm pee. Well, that settled that. Except it still didn’t make sense. I forced myself to push it from my mind, however, knowing I couldn’t figure it out myself. I needed help. I needed someone to tell me who I was.

I found my way downstairs and, after some looking, found a phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Holding it to my ear, I listen to the drone of the dial tone on the other end: who was I supposed to call? I had meant to call back the person who had called me…but…what was their number? Some numbers floated to the surface of my mind, but not enough to make a phone number. That was when I noticed a piece of paper hanging on a corkboard next to the phone. There were multiple names and numbers written on the paper. At the top of the list was a person named Madison—that sounded familiar. I started dialing the number but slammed the phone down on the receiver after the fourth number.

No, I didn’t want to call Madison. I wasn’t sure why, but I know I didn’t want to call her.

At the bottom of the paper were directions to get into town. I wasn’t entirely certain what that meant, but maybe if I went there someone could help me.

I searched the house for my car keys but couldn’t find them. I did have a car, right? Yes, I had a vivid memory of arriving at this place in a car. Or had someone else been driving? There was no car in the driveway, so I must have been misremembering. That was fine, just fine. I could walk. I found my shoes by the couch and headed out into the night.

My head was pounding and I was having trouble holding on to a thought for more than a few minutes.

Luckily, the moon was full, so I had more than enough light to see by as I made my way up the gravel driveway and into the trees. Normally, I might have been afraid to walk through the woods, even on a path, in the middle of the night, but I was far too afraid of how confused and fuzzy my brain was to even think of being afraid of the dark. I was afraid I might never figure out who I was and what was going on. Terrified that something terrible might happen to me if I couldn’t figure it out.

It was a long walk and I kept expecting to see headlights approaching me from behind, but they never did. I had no idea how long it took, but eventually I saw buildings and lights up ahead. The dirt shoulder of the road turned to sidewalk and I was walking under the harsh glow of the streetlights instead of the soft ambience of moonlight. At first, it seemed like all the buildings were empty and dark and I began to fear that I had walked all the way out here for nothing.

Just when I was beginning to wonder what I could do now, I turned a corner and saw a small diner up ahead, still lit up with a sign in front promising 24-hour service. I had to force myself not to run to the building.

A bell rang as I pushed the door open. Despite being a 24-hour diner, the only person I saw was a young woman with dark, curly hair standing at the host’s station.

“Hey,” she began to say before even beginning to look up from the book she was reading, “How can I—honey, you okay? Do you need help?

The concern on her face told me I must have looked as disheveled as my brain felt.

I did need help, but I suddenly wasn’t sure how to ask for it. I still didn’t know who I could call, and how could this woman help me? How was I supposed to articulate to this woman that I couldn’t remember if I had a job, if I was an adult, if I was potty trained? How was I supposed to ask her which set of memories were the correct ones?

“Hey, you look familiar,” she said, leading me to a stool against the counter. “I’ll get you a glass of water, okay? Did something happen? Should I call someone? The police?”

“You…you know me?” I asked, ignoring everything else she said.

“I don’t think so…you look familiar but…” She set a glass of water in front of me. “Do you know who you are?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“Maybe I should call the police, honey, or an ambulance. Are you hurt? Where did you come from?” Her tone of voice was dripping with concern and she began moving towards the phone hanging on the wall.

“No, please, no police, no ambulance, I’m not hurt.”

“Okay…okay, sweetie. Where did you come from? I know you aren’t from around here.”

“A house,” I said, “over that way.”

“Over by the lake? Are you staying in one of those houses?” I nodded, pretty sure that sounded right. “Alright, alright, why don’t we call Madison? She rents all those houses out. If you’re staying there, she’ll know who you are.”

“Madison?” I recognized the name from the list by my phone and was still certain I didn’t want to call her, but I otherwise had no idea who that was.

“Yeah, Madison, you probably met her if you’re staying in one of those houses. Nice lady lives up there with her little girl?” Suddenly the girl’s face lit up and she snapped her fingers. “That’s who you remind me of! Madison and her little girl, Sabrina, came in just a few days ago with another little girl, couldn’t have been more than two or three. I think her name was Claire? You look just like her. Do you have a little sister?”

“Madison and her…her little girl?” Something about that tug at my brain hard.

“Yeah! Here,” she said, pulling her phone from an apron pocket, “I’m sure I’ve got a picture, maybe that will jar your memory.”

She set the phone on the counter and pushed it towards me. On the screen was a picture of two people in a booth towards the back of the restaurant, both with stacks of pancakes in front of them. One of them was a woman who looked to be in her thirties, the other a grinning little girl of three or four. The name Mommy floated through my head looking at the older woman. She was Mommy, not Madison. The other was Sabrina. But Sabrina was an adult. No, she wasn’t either; she was like me, something that was not quite adult and not quite a little girl.

Suddenly it all came crashing back on me. Everything that had happened over the past few days. Everything Mommy…no, Madison had done to me. Playing with Sabrina. It all came back to me crystal clear, although I couldn’t understand why I had let it all happen. I had been like a passenger in my own body. More importantly, everything from before came back to me. I was an adult, but Mom—Madison had tried to steal that from me.

“I have to get out of here,” I muttered, half out of my mind with panic, with what might happen if Madison found me before I could get out of town. I heard the stool hit the ground as I ran as hard as I could out of the diner, Julia yelling for me to wait.

I ran as hard and as long as I could, until my lungs were ready to burst. I had to get back to the house, find my stuff, my car, my phone, and get out of town before Madison came looking for me in the morning.

But what about Sabrina? Was Sabrina trapped like I had been? Could I, in good conscience, leave her behind if she was? No, no, I couldn’t save her. Once I was gone, I would send police to help her. But could they? Would they even believe me? Or would they just see Sabrina as a little girl like Julia had? Just like Julia had apparently seen me as a two-year-old. No wonder she hadn’t batted an eyelash to see me walk into her restaurant with my diapers showing.

How had she done it?

By the time I got back to the house I had been renting, my throat was ragged and burning, my lungs felt ready to burst. I needed something cold to drink.

I went straight for the fridge and opened it, my eyes landing on the pitcher of iced tea. The cold liquid was just touching my lips when it all suddenly dawned on me and dropped the pitcher, tea splashing everywhere.

It was the tea. I didn’t understand how, but that had to be it. That had to be it. Then that was how I could save Sabrina. And myself. I had to destroy the plants Madison made the tea from, then hopefully Madison wouldn’t be able to drug Sabrina and she could escape on her own. That was all I could do for her. But first, I pulled the tins of tea out of the cupboard and poured them down the sink, flushing all the bits of leaves and flowers down with water.

Next, I had to get dressed. I was still wearing pajamas and sagging diaper. That realization made me blush…surely Julia had noticed my diaper…but I didn’t have time to be embarrassed. I ran outside and around to the side of the house where the trashcans here, throwing back the lids and dragging out the black trash bag I remember Madison dumping most of my stuff in. I carried the bag into the house and tore into, dumping the contents onto the living room floor and digging through until I found a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and some underwear. I changed right there in the middle of the living room, leaving my diaper…no, not my diaper…on the living room floor. I also found my phone charger and ran upstairs to retrieve my phone.

I still didn’t know where my car was, but that was less important. I’d sneak over to Madison’s house and destroy those plants, then come back to this house. By then, my phone would be charged enough that I just needed to get to someplace with reliable service, then I could call for help.

I still needed something to destroy the plants though. After a search of the house, I found a book of matches in a kitchen drawer and a cannister of gasoline in the small shed off the side of the house. It was, I had to assume, for the lawn mower right next to it. Yes, this would do nicely.

Armed with gasoline and matches, I set off on the path through the trees to Madison’s house. That path seemed safer to me—more places to hide if I heard anyone coming. But the night was eerily still and quiet. It took effort not to run down the path and get this done as quickly as possible, but I couldn’t risk being caught now.

Finally, I could make out the house in the moonlight, and the rows of plants next to it. It was almost done.

Standing just beyond the tree line, I spent a while examining the house, looking for any sign of movement, any sign that Sabrina or Madison might be awake. Even if Sabrina was under Madison’s spell, I had to assume that she was so under Madison’s control that she wouldn’t see me as a rescuer. When I was satisfied that everyone was asleep, I snuck across the open yard and over to the garden.

The garden was larger than I remembered it being, although I guess I never got a really good look at it, so I knew I’d have to be sparing with gasoline to make sure I could burn the whole thing down. I walked up and down the rows of plants, lightly sprinkling gasoline as I went. Just when I thought I was almost done, I walked out of one aisle, ready to turn down the last one, and almost walked right into Madison.

“Claire,” she said, her voice flat. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Fuck you, Madison!” I took a step back and throw the cannister of gas and Madison, but completely missed in my panic. My heart was suddenly trying to claw its way up my throat. I fumbled the matches of my pocket. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick.”

“Claire,” she repeated, an edge of anger seeping into her voice, “stop this nonsense right now, little girl, or I will put you over my knee and—”

“I’m not a little girl, Madison!” I screamed. “I’m a fucking adult!” My hands were fumbling with the matches, I was too panicked to get my fingers to work properly. “And I’m going to burn all your fucking plants down and you can’t use them to drug people anymore!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” the anger left Madison’s voice and was replaced with laughter. “You really think that’s going to stop me? You think I can’t control you without that? The tea just makes you more…susceptible.”

“Shut up!” I screamed, finally getting one of the matches loose. I dragged it across the strike strip on the back of the matchbook, but it fizzled, managing only to singe my thumb a little.

“Let me show you,” Madison said, her voice all anger again. “Let me show you what a helpless little girl I can turn you into.”

Madison began making weird hand motions, a faint glow emanating from her finger tips. A moment of sheer terror took ahold of my mind, a moment to realize I should have escaped when I had a chance, but it was too late. The matchbook fell from my hand and tears welled in my eyes as I felt that all too familiar sensation of warm pee filling the crotch of my jeans, spreading across my ass, running down my legs.

“Uh oh,” a mocking voice came from behind me, “it looks like the wittle-bitty baby peed herself.” Sabrina’s voice was different, she had a more mature cadence instead of her rapid-fire, child-like speech patterns. “That’s what happens when babies sneak around causing trouble and pretending to be big girls.”

“Speaking of,” Madison said, turning her attention to Sabrina, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Oh, but Mommy,” Sabrina giggled, batting her eyes at Madison, “I really want to see you punish her. You should spank her.”

“Yes,” Madison agreed, “I think a spanking is a good place to start.”

I tried to speak, to protest, to scream for help, but all that came out was gurgling sounds. My tongue felt too think to form words.

“Aww, she’s so cute when she babbles,” Sabrina said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the house. “Don’t regress her too much just yet, Mommy, I want to see the humiliation of her face. I want her to remember who she is…at least for a little bit.”