Chapter 4 - Zero Gravity
I can fly.
It’s the first thought that goes through your mind. You forget about the fact that you’ve just propelled through all that can be described as “the sky” in a massive space ship. The moment when you begin to float in your seat, that’s when what it means to be human has changed.
It’s the downtime during missions when you get to have fun. Floating around the Station, eating snacks out of thin air, and crawling along the walls.
But with the diapers being set aside for specific times, there is no chance for a curious astronaut to get a chance to see what its like to pee in zero-G.
Unless of course they decided not to let that stand in their way. I for one saw no problem in stripping down to my orange jump suit, floating to a corner of an empty lab, and letting my own liquids float with me in the endless abyss of space.
And yet strangely, it felt as though my urine was not acting as it should in low gravity. I felt it cling close to my skin, as if I was in fact wearing a diaper. I went to feel what was wrong between my legs, and something struck my funny bone.
The first thing I noticed when I woke from my dream and dealt with the pain in my elbow was that I was not laying under my blankets, in my bed, at home.
I was sitting at my desk, in my third grade class room, in front of everyone. I looked around, unsure of what was going on. The last thing i remembered Mrs. Seaver’s ramblings, which had still been going on.
I had nodded on if class, which had never happened before. Another in-school first that day had carried over from my dream. A quick feel with my aching palm confirmed that I had wet my Pull-Up, which I’d avoided doing in school all week.
Honestly, I was surprised I lasted this long. The Pull-Ups really had done their job. Unless you count purposely letting them at home, I hadn’t had a daytime accident since I started wearing them. If I didn’t actually want to keep wearing them, I’d be proud that I probably didn’t “have to” anymore.
The real problem was; what now? It was only the beginning of the day, there was no way I could go around like this unnoticed for the rest of the day. I had to figure out a changing strategy. I had extras in my back-back, but I couldn’t just take that with me into the bathroom, even if I was allowed to leave class.
Apparently, Bella raised her hand on her first day of Pull-Ups in school and informed the teacher of what needed to be done. My sister was apparently born without the shame gene that I was.
As my heart began to race, something happened. I could quote the title of the single worst television show ever, but let’s just say that something rung and class was over. It was time to change rooms.
I knew how to move in a wet Pull-Up, so I didn’t waste my time grabbing my books and heading to my locker. My book bag taunted me as the hallway filled with other students. I knew of only one solution.
A second later, I headed to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall with nothing but my books and a toilet. After confirming that I was alone in the bathroom, I unzipped my jeans and lowered them down to just my knees, giving me enough room to undo the tear-away sides of the Pull-Up and bundle it up. After tossing it into the trash I unraveled a hundred pieces of toilet paper to cover it up.
After wiping the stink from my bottom, the final, and most painful piece of my task, was to pull my denim jeans back up, and fasten the cold metal button in front of my uncovered skin.
I held my head up high, and went to my next class naked in my jeans.
After three more excruciating classes, we were sent to lunch. I took my time putting my books away and, when no one was looking, stuffed a spare Pull-Up in my lunch bag.
Moments later I exited the bathroom, happily padded ready to sit by myself and eat my fruits and veggies (jello and pizza).
After lunch, I deterred from my usual recess hanging out location to meet my new best friend.
Claire and I had little time to talk when we first met. The last thing she asked was why I pee my pants. I dodged the question, and decided to flip things back on her.
“So exactly what kind of diapers do you wear?” I asked.
Claire shrugged. “I don’t know?”
“But they’re just regular normal diapers?” I elaborated, “Not Pull-Ups or anything?” Claire nodded, then shook her head, then shrugged. I’ll admit, I asked a complicated question, and so I thought of asking something more useful. “How do you get changed?”
“The school nurse,” Claire said. The same as Bella apparently. “What about you?” she asked.
“Me?!” At first I assumed she meant how my diaper got changed. Then I remembered my title as “The Girl Who Pees Her Pants” and answered, "Well, I go to the nurse and she calls my mom who brings me clothes. Although lately I’ve been bringing clothes ahead of time.
All true. At least up until this week.
I tried to think of something else to ask her about. But her diapers were the only thing I knew about her besides her dead mom. However, she took a turn and moved the conversation way forward.
“Oh, I forgot,” she said, “Would you and your family like to come over for dinner?”
Before I knew it, I was standing on a porch under a dark, night sky.
“Alright,” my dad said, “Remember your manners, girls. We’re guests here. In fact Claire’s father is the first person to invite us anywhere in a long time.”
There was a slight chill in the air. Bella and I wore our church clothes, the clothes we would wear if we ever went to church. We looked like pretty little angels, and the world was unaware of the diapers that our garments concealed.
“And come to me right away if you need changed,” our mom said. No sitting around in your own filth like you do at home."
Before there was time to respond, a man opened the door.
“Welcome,” he said, “Come on it, take your shoes off,” and I think he said something else.
As we entered the home, we were greeted by Claire, who was dressed nice and rather polite. After sharing some pleasantries, the adults went one way as we children convened in Claire’s room.
It looked much like our room, which makes sense since she is older than my sister and younger than me.
She showed us her dolls and all of her toys. It was a strange experience, I can’t say I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t horrible. Claire and I really only had one thing in common with her.
“Thanks for coming,” Claire’s father said as we got ready to leave. “It’s be a rough year for us,” he continued. And then, he looked straight at me and said, "I’m glad she’s found a friend.
Whether I wanted it or not, I was now the Diaper Girl’s only friend.
I spent the car ride home thinking about what Claire had been through, and what she lives with now because of it. Humiliation and the loss of self control; that is what happens when a child looses their mother.
And here I was, openly seeking to wear diapers based on my own fantasies of space travel. If I ever revealed my secret truth to Claire, she would feel insulted that i gain pleasure out of the very thing that stole all of her friends from her.
And besides, how much longer could it possibly go on? Would I go to college, or even get married in diapers? I could probably stop wetting them right away if I wanted to. I was already disgusted at the idea of an astronaut sitting in one for hours before take off. Every time I put one on, I’ll be reminded of Claire and what happened to her and her mother.
That’s why I decided that day, to try my hardest to never again need to wear a Pull-Up, or a diaper. Or to wet my pants or, if possible, my bed. Ever again.
But it was raining as we drove home. The sound of water crashing towards me ear, separated by a thin piece of glass. As each drop hit the window, my bladder churned inside me. We hit several bumps in the road that didn’t help.
“I can’t see a thing,” my dad said.
Outside, everything looked black. I saw nothing but darkness and raindrops splashing towards me.
Then, suddenly, two large, bright lights came roaring towards me towards me.
I heard a large bang. Fear pulled the urine out of my bladder and into my Pull-Up. Rain and glass covered me on the outside.
I was floating backwards, like an astronaut in zero gravity, pushed in one direction by a massive force, pulled in another as my seat-belt squeezed against me belly, chest and neck.
I never asked how Claire’s mother died. I pray she went quicker than this.