Empty: A coming of age story NECROED with Chapter 5 1/31/2017

A few months ago when I officially delurked, i promised stories. I’ve been busy, but have finally had the time to start this. I’m not entirely sure where I’ll be taking this, or if anyone will even find it worth my continuing. I will gladly and humbly accept any reasonable criticisms, and welcome the chance to grow as a writer. Any feedback at all is appreciated.

The events of at least the first couple parts of this story are based closely on my own coming of age… however, some stuff has been changed. i truly did shred my relationship with my parents and get emancipated, and infantilism was at the heart of the rift. My sister truly did get diagnosed with cancer, however she in real life survived and is in full remission. Many of the actions taken and emotions the protagonist feels are taken from my own experience, but some material was changed greatly to suit a more interesting narrative. Without further ado, lets get to the story, I’ve got a 1,000 word appetizer for you all to consider.

Empty: A coming of age story

Chapter one: Ghosts from the past

Moving to California: three simple words. They are words that should be exciting to any young adult making their way in the world. Yet when I mulled over them, she just felt empty. Sun, beaches, palm trees, and despair. Simply put, those three words meant I no longer had a family. At age 17, I was going into my last semester of high school. I had a couple friends, despite never being popular or even very sociable, generous scholarships for college the next fall, and a nice house to live in… well, had a house, anyhow. When this emancipation trial wraps up, I won’t be able to say that.

I am on the tail end of the judge’s docket today, so I have to sit in the family court while a handful of others argue over petty bullshit… I mean, who gives a fuck about who gets custody of the kid when they are out trick or treating? I sit on the sparsely padded benches of the courtroom, next to my parents for one last time before we move apart forever. As if we didn’t finish that spiral of mutual loathing weeks ago.

As we sit awkwardly through hearing after hearing, the distance between us is painfully apparent. I sit well clear of them, alone with my thoughts, while they occasionally shoot resentful glares my way. I wish I could say I was mature enough not to reciprocate, but that would be a blatant lie. Finally, my case comes up, and I hear the clerk call out my name.

“Katie Everett, please take the stand.”

A slight tremble in my step, I nonetheless walk up to stand with my head held high, trying to convey a confidence I certainly don’t feel. I set down the folder with my meager notes in it, a far cry from the lawyers who came through earlier with 3 inch binders full of pedantic details. As the judge addresses me, I look up at him… an older gentleman, with graying hair and piercing blue eyes, the sort of eyes that stare right through you and seem to read your mind. He looks down on me with contempt, already filing me away as another miscreant who wants to party without their parents ‘ruining their life’. Through the brief trial, he would only humor my plea when it was clear my parents wanted me gone as much as I wanted to leave. There’s nothing like mutually assured distaste to sway a critical judge’s frozen heart, and an excess of the aforementioned among me and my family.

After the trial, I stand in line at the DOL getting my new ID. More waiting around for the magnificent beast called bureaucracy to chew me up and spit me out. The clerk sitting at the desk to process me looks bored like only a day of sitting in one place asking the same questions over and over can make someone. She asks the usual questions, and I give the usual answers.

“Height?”

“Five feet, three inches.”

“Okay, weight?”

“118 pounds.”

“Eye Color?”

“Blue.”

“Hair?”

“Brown.”

“Alright, just one more question. Are you interested in being an organ donor?”

“Sorry, but no.”

I couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish refusing the last one, but if there’s even a seed of truth in paramedics not saving organ donors I want no part in it.

“Ok, please step over to the left to have your picture taken. Make sure to hand them your receipt.”

I mutely follow her directions, not deigning to smile for my picture… what’s the point? When my card prints out, I give a small nod of thanks to the clerk and walk quietly out to my mom’s car for the ride home. Of course, as we drive, she needles me about how lucky I am she was kind enough to drive me to court and not make me walk. Bitch. I give her thanks that we both know are empty and insincere, possibly for the last time. Cold, like the rest of our interactions the past month.

Once upon a time, we were a happy family: me, my older sister, Anna, and my parents. I loved and adored my parents more than anything, and had an intimate friendship with my sister, who was just one and a half years my senior… But cancer, cancer tears things apart. From sixth grade to eighth, my sister fought valiantly. In the end, she lost. My parents grew cold, My home life has been suffering for years ever since, clashes over my love of gaming, refusal to go to church, and apathy towards homework pushing my parents away one small, yet painful, shove at a time.

But beyond these issues, there is one thing that my parents cannot deal with… one thing they hate. Since I was young, I’ve been enchanted wearing diapers, sucking on pacifiers, and wearing the most babyish clothes I can find. I had stumbled onto the internet community at a very young age, and never looked back. It all began when I was just in fifth grade… it was shortly after my sister was diagnosed with Medulloblastoma. I had found half a pack of pull-ups up in my closet, and curiosity did the rest. From that day on, Diapers were central in my life. They were the only thing that could take me away from life without Anna, could take me to a time when my family wasn’t happy, could take me to a time when I didn’t wake up at 2am to hear my parents screaming at each other. Mom and Dad never understood, of course. They always treated me like I was in the grip of a padded demon when they caught me wearing, lecturing, yelling, and praying until I swore I was cured and they left me alone, and without the rest of my current pack of diapers. It never stopped me, only widened the rift between us.

Eventually, it was mutually decided that I no longer had a place in their home. One day, during a bad argument, my dad challenged me to find a new place to live. He wasn’t serious. I knew he wasn’t. I did it anyway. Two weeks later, I had plane tickets to my best friend Sarah’s house in California, 2 bags packed up with everything I owned that was worth keeping, and a hearing notice served to my parents. They never saw it coming. At first, there was rage at me for daring to defy their authority, but by the date of the hearing they thought it over and changed their stance completely… and that brings us to now. Bags packed, walking into the airport, ready to start life anew. But how can you rebuild when there are no pieces to pick up?

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

A good start please continue. ;D

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

it has only been a few days since posting . so give it chance

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

That’s pretty hostile. Your first chapter is setting a stage. We’re all waiting to see where you’re going with it. But hey, that’s your call…

I mean, take a look at the last thing I posted. The comments really didn’t start coming until it was over. Didn’t stop me from continuing to write and post…

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

Alright, i just want to know that people are actually reading this… so long as that is known, I will gladly write on. Expect another chapter this week.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

Keep in mind that some of us only visit the site on the weekends. This is the first time I saw this post. It is a good start. One thing that you can keep in mind is you are writing a story for yourself that you have chosen to share. When you keep that in mind, you will not worry about other’s opinions as much. I don’t post as often as I should and in general only post when I have something to say.

I do want to see where you take this. However, as I mentioned before, write for yourself and you’ll be a lot happier.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

I like your story, I hope you continue on with it.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

I’m not sure who you think you are but you are not owed replies for writing a story. Guys like WB, WriteandLeft, Whetoric and the like have respect and a history to those of us who have been here for even a short time. Their work is synonymous with greatness. This is the first story from you; an unknown quantity.

The writing is promising but the attitude is not.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

My apologies to everyone… I know its not excuse for my actions, but i was up late after a rough week when i made that comment. I’ve been under a good deal of duress of late, and regret the rudeness of the comment I made. I honestly mean no harm nor insult to this wonderful community, and have the utmost respect for all of you. I’m accustomed to forums where bringing a thread up after 2 weeks is virtually necro… this is clearly not the case here. That noted, I intend to move forward on a much more relaxed and respectful track. I hope that you can all forgive me.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story

Sorry for the delay, I’ve been busy and the muse has not been kind to me the last couple weeks. I’m not entirely happy with this chapter, but I think it serves to move the plot along well enough. Sorry if anyone is getting bored by all the thrilling details of an airport, but I want to take this slow and make it last if I can. Once again, I cannot say how sorry I am for my childishness earlier in the thread. Regardless, on with the show!
Chapter 2: Arrival

I arrive at the airport, toting the two suitcases containing all my worldly possessions… I never was the kind of girl to invest in lots of outfits when simple and serviceable will do the job. I’m dressed in a pair of jeans and a white blouse, my hair in a ponytail. Simple clothes for travel have always struck me as the best way to go. Its overcast and drizzling here, just like my mood, but I didn’t bother unpacking a jacket to wear this morning considering my destination. Maybe a bit of sun will help my mood… then again maybe not. This parade has already been rained on, cancelled, and govered in red tape.

I’m wearing one more thing today, under my jeans… my last diaper. Carefully rationed so that I would run out my very last day at home, this might be the last chance I have to wear for months. I’ve known Anna since we were four, and we tell each other almost everything. Honestly, the only thing I haven’t told her is about my infantilism. For some reason, I could never muster the courage and work past the shame to tell her about this one matter… and thus, there isn’t going to be much of a chance for me to do anything beyond getting on the forums as long as I’m living with her. I am fully aware of this, and it is why I’m trying to savor every feeling from this last few hours.

I continue my trek through the airport, dropping my suitcases off at curbside baggage check and printing a boarding pass. My flight won’t leave for another hour, so I should have ample time to get through security… my parents were big on travel, and I have probably been though airports at least 100 times in my life. This isn’t the first time I’ve done it diapered either. I guess I should be excited to fly, but the novelty wears off when you are in the air 5 times a year. Now dealing with the TSA, cramped seats, and shitty airport wifi is just mundane drudgery, like everything else my life has become. Get from one day to the next, and never think about it too closely.

The airport is eerily quiet for a Friday evening, practically a ghost town. The shops are all empty, and the cordons for the security checkpoint are a barren field for me to walk through. I get a sudden urge to drop my purse and run up and down the rows like a small child. As quickly as it comes, I shake off the urge and walk forward at a much more leisurely (and dignified) pace. Security is routine, just like the other countless times I’ve been through… except for the purse incident when I was 6, but that’s a different story.

With the nonexistent lines at security, I now have some time to kill before boarding starts. I’m not trying to perpetuate any stereotypes when I say this, but I kill the time by buying an even more overpriced than usual latte at Starbucks, and playing on my phone while I drink it. In about 45 minutes I hear the flight attendant announce boarding over the PA. I got B-49 for my boarding pass, so I have a bit of time still. As I wait, I can feel a bit of pressure building up in my bladder… caffeine goes through my system like nothing else. It isn’t urgent, but as I stand up to go get on the plane I release my bladder nonetheless. I enjoy the sudden rush of warmth for a quick second, and then stride forward onto the jet. The plane isn’t crowded, and I get my own row to sit in… a rare luxury. The plane, as quiet as it is empty, is fully boarded quickly. I hear the ding that accompanies the please turn seatbelts on sign, and strap in. the sound of the engines warming up and the drone of the flight attendant giving the lecture I’ve heard a million times are in cahoots to lull me to sleep, and before the plane takes off I am snoozing.

I wake up to the plane jolting and shaking. The captain is in the middle of an announcement over the PA, and my sleep addled brain struggles to make sense of his words for a few moments.

“…Descent into Sacramento Airport, so please return to your seats and buckle in. Flight attendants will be coming around for a final sweep, and the expected time to the gate is 15 minutes.”

The PA clicks off, and I see the seatbelt sign light up yet again… I never took mine off, of course, so I just stare idly out the window as the lights of the city grow larger. A million scenarios of what it will be like when I land run unbidden through my head, none of them ending well? What if this is all a mistake? What if Sarah forgets to come and get me? What if I’m not welcome after all? I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t get this nervous ache out of my chest, and it’s another struggle to keep from crying. I pull it together, and pull my phone out to check my messages on the in flight wi-fi. There is a message from Sarah telling me that she left for the Airport, time stamped 10 minutes ago, and not much else. Ah, the perks of being antisocial.

The shaking of the plane is getting worse as we get closer to the ground. I can see some of the clearly newer flyers gripping their arm rests, white knuckled, but my only complaint is that every jitter from the plane shakes my bladder, which the coffee I drank predictably filled right up. I smile a moment later as I remember what I’m wearing, and relax as my diaper gets warm again. It feels like it’s over far too soon for my last diaper in who knows how long, and I let out a quiet sigh as I go back to staring out the window as the plane roars down to the runway. A jolt, as the landing gear connects with the tarmac… the howling noise of the engines, as the rage in reverse to stop the momentum of the plane. Finally, quiet as the plane rolls silently to the gate where we will disembark. The overhead lights blink on and the fasten seatbelts sign blinks off as the captain’s voice comes over the intercom again.

“Folks, we have landed at the Sacramento Airport right on time. We know you have lots of options when flying these days, so we thank you for picking us here at Southwest. Disembarking will begin shortly, but if you are continuing on to LA with us please remain seated so that we can get a head count. Have a great day, folks.”

I chuckle at that last line… I doubt I’ll be having any great days for a long time to come. On this bleak note, I get out of my seat and walk with the mass of people out of the plane, across the jet way, and into the airport. It looks much the same as the one I came from, but most airports do. My first stop is to the bathroom, where I take off my diaper and replace it with some much more grown up panties after wiping myself down. I ball it up and toss It in the trash as I walk out, not caring who sees. It’s not like I know anyone here, anyhow.

The walk to baggage claim seems to be across the whole airport, and it takes a few minutes to get there before I head down a final escalator. I look around but don’t see Sarah, so I head to the conveyer belt to look for my bag. They already started coming out while I was still heading there, so it was simple to pick my two bags out and grab them off. As I turn around with the last one, I see the once face I’ve wanted to for so long… Sarah’s. I drop the bag I’m holding, and rush over to her. As we embrace, I can no longer keep it together, and all my tears from two months of the hell my life had become all come rushing out as I collapse in her arms. As I sob, tears of both joy and anguish running down my face and soaking into her shirt, and she holds me tightly, returning my desperate hug, I think for the first time in ages that things might be alright after all.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 2 2/23/2015

Since it’s still a bit early in the stlry to really critique anything significant, there isn’t much to say xD Good structure. Good pacing, generic compliments are generic.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 2 2/23/2015

I’m reading it! It’s a good effort. Please keep going!

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 2 2/23/2015

It’s a good story and I will keep reading it.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 2 2/23/2015

i am liking this story so far looking forward to reading more

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 2 2/23/2015

This chapter is only half size, but there was a natural stopping point so i figured I would just throw it up here before I go to bed and possibly get busy and forget to work on this for a week . :stuck_out_tongue: Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to read or comment on this, it really means a lot to me and I’m honored by all the positive responses. Without further ado, Chapter 3.

Chapter 3: Carry Me Home

I can’t tell how long it is before I pull back from Sarah, but my tears have stopped and I no longer feel like such a train wreck. We look at each other with the familiarity and understanding that only 12 years of friendship can give. I see concern in her eyes, a silent question of whether I would be alright. Right now, I can’t even begin to answer that, so I do the next best thing… distract.

“Hey Sarah, grab my other bag, will you? Let’s get out of here!” I say, trying my best to sound perky.

She responds, “I need to pee first, just wait up a couple minutes.”

I sit and watch the bags, smiling as I think about why I don’t need to go use the bathroom like her. She got out a few minutes later, and we walked to her car. Normally we would have been laughing and ripping into each other with sarcastic humor, but tonight I don’t really have the energy for any of that. Instead I tell her again about how the trial and trip went (we texted about it already, of course) and how glad I am to finally be free of my parents.

As we get into her late model Honda and buckle up, she gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, silently telling me she is here and everything will be alright. I let out a tired sigh, and spend the hour long drive to her house in the half awake haze that those too tired to fall asleep feel. I would think sleep on the plane would help, but instead I just feel even more groggy and fuzzy for it, like I never quite woke up. When I feel the car roll to a stop, and hear the motor cut, I jolt out my stupor and get out of the car… nearly falling on my face as I try to put weight on my legs; they must have fallen asleep during the drive. I let out a small involuntary shriek at this, and catch myself on the open door frame.

“Shit, are you alright Katie?” Sarah rushes over at the sound of my scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble embarrassedly. “My legs just fell asleep, I’m fine.”

With a playful smirk on her face, Sarah replies, “Are you sure you don’t need me to carry you in, baby?”

I blush hotly as I rebuke her. The truth is that I would like that very much, but there’s no way I could let her know that. Instead, I stagger over to the trunk as my legs regain feeling and open it up to grab my luggage. I heave the two prices out, and then sling my purse and the larger bag before waiting for Sarah to take the other one. She does, and I follow her to the door… a door to my new life.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 3 2/27/2015

Great story.I really love it are you continuing it ?

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 3 2/27/2015

I’ve had a very busy few months, Joined the Army. I’ll try to resume this when i have more time at my disposal, but no promises for any immediacy.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 3 2/27/2015

It’s very well done, I feel bad for passing it over when it first came out.

Re: Empty: A coming of age story UPDATED with Chapter 3 2/27/2015

I like this. Keep going!!