Dealing With Darcy

[Abigail]

Dealing With Darcy
Written by Mandi Danielle (butter_cup_baby)

Dealing With Darcy is a story about a mother, and her struggles with her daughter, Darcy. When she finds out something interesting, she has to learn to not only deal with it, but accept it. Luckily - her mother is there to help her on her way.



This story was written by me (aka butter_cup_baby) in 2006-2008, and is mine. Please don't make a carbon copy by just changing names and a few details, that really irks me. This story is fictional. It does have some true qualities to it, as all my stories do, but the story as a whole is a piece of fiction.

[Abigail]

Prologue
Written September 18th, 2006

"Finally" I sighed as I shut the tap off and dried my hands on the dish towel. I walked into the living room and collapsed on our grey and blue sofa. I grabbed the flicker and turned to Dr. Phil and started watching.

"You've got to make a change in your life." He said to a troubled couple.

I watched until the commercial came on, and then my eyes started wandering elsewhere. I saw the entertainment center with the doors that were falling off. I really needed to fix those, and the televison, which was covered in a light coat of dust, which, really, wasn't that big of a deal unless the sun was shining on the television through the curtians, like now. The afternoon light cast a shadow from the sofa onto the floor in front of me, putting the old burgendy throw rug into a darkness. The coffee table's leg was off, so you had to be careful how you moved it, or it would topple over, therefore, being no use for any sort of food or beverage.

I fiddled with the gold wedding band that was on my index finger. Keegan died several years ago, leaving my 16 year old daughter Darcy and I to fend for ourselves. Now, he wasn't Darcy's biological father per se, but he basically raised her. Daniel, my first husband, still took Darcy over the summer, but wasn't around any other time. I really did hate him, never bothered to call for her, only took her when it was convient for him, and was full of empty promises. If I had it my way, he wouldn't be allowed to see her at all, but Darcy always enjoys her visits to his ranch 600 miles away. Half the time Daniel couldn't even manage to keep up with child support payments, which usually put a strain on our finances. Now don't get me wrong, I did have a good job, being a full time nurse at the local hospital, and Darcy had a job also, at a fast food joint. That gave her money to pay for personal things, and leaving me to only pay for our basic needs and of course the never ending bills.

The show came back on and I continued to watch, lazily turning over to lay down. The wooden support beam on the sofa dug into my side, so I had to scoot down, that way my pouch of chub cushioned my ribs. I tucked my frizzy, un-combed strawberry-blond hair behind my ear. I sniffed, my allergies were acting up again. It must be all the pollen in the air. I didn't mind the spring, I love being out in the garden and what not, but I haven't even had time for that lately. Whenever I get a day off from my hectic work schedule it is spent cleaning up around the house, therefore, not really time off at all. By the end of the day, I had bags under my eyes, which always seemed to add on another 10 years to my already advanced age of 37.

Dr. Phil ended and I went back to cleaning, working my way upstairs. I went into the bathroom, and scrubbed the tub and toilet, not having to do much, as it was just us girls, and we were both pretty clean. I walked into the computer room and tidied up the chocolate bar wrappers and pop cans that Darcy is always 'just about to clean up.' I dragged myself into my room and smoothed the brown duvet on my bed, re-arranging the pillows so they looked fluffier than their 3 year life span allowed. I turned my celieng fan on and fixed the bamboo curtians. I shuffled across the hall into Darcy's room and made her bed, threw her dirty clothes into the hamper that was in the hallway, and pulled her bedskirt down.

Once everything was cleaned once again, I went back to the couch, hoping to get a little bit of a nap before Darcy came home. I lay down once again, made sure I was comfortable and dozed off. Like always, after about half an hour the phone rings, waking me up from the only sleep I have gotten in the last few days.

"Hello?" I anwsered.

"Yes, this is she. -- Oh really?" I* said at the voice that was on the other line.

"Well I will definately be talking to her. -- Great, -- You too, -- Buh bye." I hung the phone up.

Darcy's school, again. They call non-stop. I lay back down and dozed off once more.

[Abigail]

Chapter One
Written September 20th, 2006

I must have slept for a while, becuase when I woke up Darcy was sitting on the loveseat watching television. She already changed out of her school uniform, and was in a baggy pair of pink sweats, with a plain white t-shirt on. She had her straight hair pulled back into a pony-tail. She shifted her weight and looked at me through her smokey blue eyes.

"Oh hey mom," she said to me, turning back to the television.

"I got another call from the school today," I said before even saying hi.

"What? I haven't even done anything today! Mom, they're lying!" She said, starting to get hysterical.

"I know I know, chill out Darc, but, how come you haven't shown me your report card yet?" I asked her.

"Oh, well, you see mom," I could tell she was trying to think of an excuse, which wasn't true. She played with her fingers and her nostrils twitched, which, always happens when she is lying. "I forgot it in my pillow, so, I meant to give it to you today, bu--"

"Nice try, go get it now," I said to her. I don't know why she was so nervous about giving it to me.

She came walking back down the stairs, and I had to remind her to walk lighter, becuase she always seems so heavy footed, she could manage to get her whole 140 pound self to shake the house if she wanted to. She handed me the report card and I scanned over the thin piece of paper. She had a B average, which isn't bad at all, considering last term it was a C-. I wondered how she managed to pull up her grades so much. I looked at her and she looked down past her small chest and flat stomache to her somewhat big feet. That was another thing she could do, she could always manage to look 3 inches shorter, which, I don't see why she would want to. She was embarrased by her height all the time, one would think that being 5'9" is a blessing, but not my Darcy.

"Oh honey," I exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Momm, stop it," she said to me, although I chose to ignore it becuase she was so muffled.

I rubbed her back while I was close to tears. I was rubbing and her shirt, at some point, rode up and when my hand was about to complete a circle it brushed upon something on her lower back. I moved my hand back there and felt something, and it definately wasn't her jogging pants. I moved my finger across it, and it felt plasticy, and rigid, almost like a...

"Mom!" She screamed at me.

She pulled away and went to her room, I didn't know what to think so I followed her. She slammed her door so I opened it and followed in behind her.

"Darcy, what are you wearing?" I asked her in a concerned voice.

"Nothing mom, just leave me alone." She said as she dived under her covers and hid her face with a pillow. She moved to the far corner of her wall and curled herself up.

"Was that a diaper?" I asked, figuring I might as well get right to the point.

She didn't anwser me, probably under the assumption that I would go away if she pretended to be asleep. I didn't want to embarrass her, or make her upset, I was just concerned. But before I could make any assumptions, I had to make sure my suspicion was right in the first place. I pulled the covers away, and she tried with all her might to keep them on. I grabbed them out of her hands and threw them on the floor. Before she could get up and move her backside against the wall I saw it, and it definately was a diaper.

"What's going on, is something the matter with you?" I asked her, looking at her tear-blotched, red face. Her eyes got a deal smaller and it looked like she was gasping for breath, as her chest was moving up and down very quickly.

"No," I managed to recover through her sobs.

"Ssssshhhh, it's okay, calm down." I said to her. I mean, it wasn't her fault if she wet the bed, or was having some accidents, or a bladder infection. I don't know why she didn't come to me in the first place, but I wanted her to calm down first, so she could tell me.

I climbed up on the bed and sat next to her, and rubbed her back while re-assuring her that I wasn't mad. Once she was a deal calmer, and her breathing returned to a normal pace I stopped and looked at her.

"It's okay Darc, it really is, I will call now and make a doctor's appointment." I told her.

"No," she said to me.

"No? What do you mean no? If you go to the doctor's, you can get some med's and then you would be cured." I told her, confused as to why she didn't want to get rid of the infection or whatever she had.

"You," she began, but struggled to get out the rest of the words, but she, in the end, managed to string a sentence together, "you can't cure me."

"Of course we can, is it a uti? How long has this been going on? I mean, you might have to take a stronger dose to ge.." She cut me off.

"MOM! Just, just stop it. There's nothing physically wrong with me, I'm fine, just leave." She told me, pressing herself further into the corner.

"What do you mean, there's nothing wrong with you? Then why are you wearing a diaper?" I asked, confused out of my mind.

"Because I want too okay!" She yelled.

That just about did it for me. Who would -want- to wear a diaper? I got off her bed and started to back out of her room, almost speechless. I don't get why anyone, in their right mind would want to wear a diaper, considering all of the bed-ridden patients I have at the hospital, who would do anything to have to not wear them.

"Your," I began, but I couldn't think of a way to finish, "You need help." I said in a low voice, as I shut her bedroom door, and walked to my own to try and figure out what the hell was wrong with my daughter.

[Abigail]

Chapter Two
Written September 23rd, 2006

"Daniel, you -have- to take her, I can't deal with her shit right now," I said to the dead-beat dad on the other end.

"I have plans, I'm going to Reno, now deal with it." He said to me.

"WOW! Great ****ing dad you are, can't even deal with your own daughter, see if you get her this summer." I said to him, screaming into the phone.

"Court order BITCH." He yelled.

The phone went dead and I forcefully put it down and buried my head in my hands. I spread out on my bed and looked at the celieng, it was steckle, and yellow from cigaratte smoke. I turned on the lamp next to me and then a few seconds later, turned it off again.

Darcy stayed in her room all evening, and I didn't see her once. I don't think she would have wanted to come out right now, this was just too much to deal with. I just can't figure out where I went wrong, why would she want to wear diapers? When so many people that need to want to get out of them? Is there a certian reason? Is it sexual? Does she need them to cope with something?

So many questions were clouding my head I needed to get out. I picked up the phone and called my mom.

"Hey mom, can I come over for coffee?" I asked her.

After getting the okay I grabbed my purse and keys and went to Darcy's room.

"I'm going to Grama's, you do one stupid thing and you will regret it for the rest of your life." I said to her and slammed her door.

The paint on the door frame was beginning to chip, and a few stained yellow chips fell to the floor. I stomped down the stairs and the floor boards creaked with age. If I took the time to listen I would have heard Darcy balling her eyes out, I would have heard the squeaky 'Mom, I'm sorry,' coming from her. But I didn't want to hear any of that, so I didn't. I opened the big door and then shut it behind me, making sure to lock it.

I walked down the stone steps, stained with kool-aid and tanning oil from the years, I held onto the rusted metal bar, that was now more burgandy than it was black. I got into my old 1990 olds and sat down. I put my green leather purse next to me, shoved the key into the ignition and started the car. Giving it a few minutes to warm up I pulled out of the driveway and down the suburban street.

I pulled up in a driveway, and parked in front of the forest green garage doors. I got out, after grabbing my purse and shutting off the car. I walked into the door and took my shoes off.

"Mom" I yelled for her, as she was not in sight.

"In the kitchen dear." She said to me.

I walked into her kitchen, my bare feet sticking to the marbled tiles. I could smell the coffee, and saw that it was freshly brewed in her cheap coffee maker. She had two cups out, hers half filled. I took the extra one, and after putting sugar and cream into it, poured the coffee. I stirred and then mom motioned me to come into the sitting room. I sat on her expensive red couch and after taking a gulp set my coffee on the coaster next to me.

"So," She started, "What's on your mind dear."

"What makes you say that?" I said, shifting uncomfortable in my place, like I used to do as a child.

"Well, firstly, you never just come over to talk about nothing, secondly, you didn't bring Darcy," I cringed at her name, "and thirdly, you are squirming like you did when you were younger and you had something to tell me." She gave me a knowing smile and watched me, waiting for a response.

I looked around the elegant room while trying to find a way to put things in words without it sounding too weird. I caught a glimse of my hand prints, that I made for my mom when I was 12. I remember her getting angry, becuase I put 'To: Janice' instead of 'To: Mom.' Eventually my eyes wandered back onto my mom's wrinkled face, and stared into her warm hazel eyes.

"I found out something very, erm, intresting about Darcy today." I said to her.

"So you know about her diapers?" She asked me.

"Excuse me?" My eyebrows lifted closer to my hairline, I would expect my mother's to do the same, but she looked extremely calm, like she just said something completely normal to me.

"I said, so you know about her diapers?" She repeated.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Oh Darcy told me ages ago," She said, still acting like this was a conversation that could come up anyday, among anyone.

I was speechless, I didn't know what to say at all. Here I find out my daughter has kept a gross secret from me, and then I find out that she told my mom.

"Don't worry about it dear, it's perfectly normal." She said to me.

"Are you kidding?" I started, getting more worked up by the second. "My sixteen year old daughter wants to wear ****ing diapers, and you call that normal?"

"Do you even know anything about it?" She asked, staying perfectly calm.

"No," I anwsered truthfully.

We were both silent for a while longer. You could here nothing but the occasional sip from one of the coffee cups. If my mind could make noise, it would sound like a television on full blast, and the channel constantly changing.

"Why?" Was all I could come up with during the period of silence.

"Talk to her about it Mel, she could explain it to you, she did to me." She said.

"Well why would she tell you and not me, I'm her mother for crying out loud."

"Do you see how you are reacting? You would think she committed murder, and this is exactly why she didn't tell you, I pressured her to let you in on it before, but she didn't want to, thought it was better if you didn't know, and frankly, I think she was right." She said to me. "It's kinda pathetic that you don't accept your own daughter for who she is, your just like Daniel."

That did it for me, the words 'just like Daniel' kept playing themselves in my head, over, and over. Maybe I was being like him, not accepting her, trying to conform her into something she's not, Daniel always pressured her to become a cheerleader, bought her a uniform one year and everything, and god knows what else he puts in her head.

"She's really upset, can barely stop crying." My mother said to me.

"Oh she is not." I said, full of denial, but in the back of my head, and in my heart, I knew she was.

"Yes she is, called, wanted to come here, didn't know what to do, she's afraid. How do you think she feels? You find out a big personal secret about her, and then you don't accept it, her own mother is turning her back to her. She's 16, don't you think she has enough stuff to deal with?"

"I just don't get it," I said, placing my head in my hands once more. I shed a few tears and mom rubbed my back and then rested her hand on my leg.

"Just take the day off tomorrow, lord knows you need it. She's too shook up to go to school. Both of you, rest up tonight, and talk about it tomorrow, give her a chance Mel, she only wants you to accept her." She replied.

I looked up and wiped my damp eyes. I looked at the old victorian clock only to see that it was getting quite late.

"Okay mom, I will." We both stood and gave eachother a long hug. Her silver-grey hair got in my face while she rubbed my back. I rubbed hers back, my hand going in circles on her pink cotton camisol.

I walked to the door, turned the gold handle after slipping on my shoes, and walked out into the night.

"Drive safe," was heard over the engine of my car.

The portch light went out, and I pulled out of the driveway, my headlights cutting into darkness in front of me. I drove just over the speed limit, stopping only at red-lights, and doing a rolling stop at the stop signs. Finally I pulled into my home, I turned off the car, grabbed my things and unlocked the door. I walked in to find the den cast in a bath of light, from the eerie-glow of the moon. I hung my keys, took off my shoes and walked upstairs. Darcy's light was off, and her door shut, so I would leave her alone for now.

I walked into my room and stripped, and then got my towel and padded to the bathroom to take a shower. I turned the taps one and stepped in. I pulled the white flowered shower curtian shut and let the hot water run over me. I lathered my hair and couldn't help but sing a little, I always had a bad habit of that, and Darcy does the same thing, just a lot more louder, and I swear she dances too. I finished up and dried myself off. After putting on my silk baby-doll nightie I climbed into bed and got under the covers.

"Shit," I said to myself.

I picked up the black phone next to me and procedded to dial the hospital's number, the extension and waited for someone to anwser.

"Hi Mary," I said, trying my best to sound stuffed up. "I can't make it tomorrow.-- Yeah, sick as a dog, okay thanks Mare, talk to ya later, buh bye." I said as I finished the conversation. I hung up and put the phone back on the charger.

I scooted further down into the covers and rested my head on my pillows. Darcy snored, the crickets creaked, the owls hooted, the leaves danced about, and I lay there wide awake. For hours I thought about many things, mainly about my only daughter. How was I supposed to bring this up to her, and what if she didn't want to talk about it? Mostly, the shock wore off, but the fact that she felt she couldn't tell me was eating my insides. My stomache churned, as I didn't even have dinner, and there were butterflies, and not the good kind either.

The red digits on my alarm clock struck 3am and I was still laying there. 'Just like Daniel...' was all I could hear myself say. I shoved my face into the pillow and covered my ears, and finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

[Abigail]

Chapter Three
Written October 1st, 2006

"Hurry, quick, he's getting away, get him, now." The doctor said, I ran after the man. All I saw was long hairy legs and a bald patch in the midst of jet black hair. The blue hospital gown flapped around his back, his bottom exposed to me. The siren went on, and red lights flashed everywhere. BEEP BEEP BEEP. I fell into blackness and tried to look around, but couldn't see anything. I reached foward and saw my own slender hands, I looked at my arms and saw freckles, it looked like little brown dots in a sea of white.

My eyes bolted open and I turned on my side, and became aware of my surroundings. I was still in my bed, my alarm clock beeping. I looked at the clock and it read 7:14am. I got up and streched, a tingle running down my spine as my body relaxed. I yawned and got a wiff of my own breath. 'Ugh' I thought, I always hated bad breath, and that was one thing I was always on Darcy for when she was younger, I might have been harsh, but at least her breath never smelt bad, unlike some of her little friends.

I stepped out of bed, slipping my feet into my forest green fuzzy slippers. I pulled my robe off of the foot of my bed, slipped it on, and then took the pack of cigarattes off of my nightstand and dropped them into my pocket. I stood up, streched again and walked across the hall to wake up Darcy, when a flood of flashbacks from last night overtook my mind. Well, I did have to wake her up sooner or later anyways, I walked into her room, to see her bed empty. I trodded sleepily down the stairs, making sure to count them as to not miss one. I looked in the living room, kitchen and the downstairs, she was nowhere in sight. I moved the curtians and looked out the window and saw her sitting in one of the cheap plastic chairs on the porch, already dressed and done up, with her backpack next to her and her purse right on the other side. She had a cigaratte in her hand. Figures, I find out new things about her everyday, now my daughter smokes. How she even buys them I would never guess. I walked over, my slippers flipping and dragging themselves along the carpet.

I opened the big door, the hinges creaking and waking me up even more. Darn I need to oil those I thought to myself. I breathed in and got a wiff of the outside air. It was cool and full of energy, now I was awake as I would be all day. I shut the door behind me and looked at Darcy, and saw her flick something from her hand off the portch to the side.

"What was that?" I asked her, pretending like I didn't know.

"Nothing," she said back to me, not meeting my eyes, and shuffling her feet.

I pulled out my pack from my pocket and took two out. I put one in my left hand and stretched it out to her.

"Here," I said, "But do you have a light?" With this comment she finally met my eyes. They were as wide as a dear's and she looked white as a ghost.

"Uh, aren't yo-you, aren't you going to yell at me or something?" She asked.

"Nope, I was smoking at your age, but, your going to smoke in front of me if you really want to." I said to her, playing cool, and trying to keep the conversation calm.

"O-oh, well, yeah, um, here, you can keep it." She said, handing over a red Bic lighter, and taking the cigaratte from me.

She pulled another flowered lighter from her purse and lit the cigaratte, and I was suprised to see that she actually smoked it right, inhaling, and a few seconds later, breathing the smoke out. When I was that age, I used to blow it out my nose, that way it looked like I was smoking right, but I wasn't exactly inhaling it. I heard her breath suck in, and blow out, and watched her chest fall and rise. Shaking myself out of the trance I lit mine also, and smoked it, with, what it seemed, more ease than Darcy. Once we were both done I heard her mumble something.

"What was that?" I asked her.

"I said, I have to get going to school, I'm going to be late," She said louder as she stood up.

"No it's okay, you can have the day off, I think we need to talk."

"Mom, I want to go to school," She said to me. I watched her intensely, as she did me, for a few seconds.

"Darc, please," I said to her.

She still stared at me, with a look that I couldn't decipher. It was either fear, anger, sadness, or maybe even all of them mixed together. I didn't know at the time. She broke eye-contact and walked inside, her shoulders slouching slightly. I followed her through the door, as it creaked just as loud as before and shut it behind us. She dropped her duffle bag and purse on the clear roll out mat next to the entrance. Usually, it's used for just shoes, but became home to our purses and any other bags we needed to carry around. She stood and waited for me to say something, her eyelids batting furiousely. She looked back down at her feet again and must have remembered just then to take her shoes off. She kicked them towards the rack, where they belong, but never ended up. The black nike flip flops rolled on top of eachother and finally found a place on the plastic surface.

"Well, lets go into the kitchen, I will make some coffee for us, and we can talk." I said to her.

I took the lead and when we entered, Darcy sat at the table playing with her thumbs and I walked over to the coffee pot. I dumped the old filter and took the red plastic container of Folger's off of the fridge. I put a new filter in and poured the right amount of coffee grinds into it. I rinsed out the pot with hot water, and then filled it with fresh water. I poured it into the back of the coffee maker, and put the filter where it belongs, I shut the lid and then turned it on. I brought out two identical mugs and set them on the counter. The coffee maker made all sorts of noises, since it was quite old. I walked over to the table and sat down, and looked at Darcy, to find that her gaze met mine.

The tile in here needed replacing also. The fridge didn't look new by any means, and two of the four burners on the stove didn't work. I continued to go over in my head things that needed to be fixed, until the coffee maker stopped making a horrid racket. I walked over, and put three sweetners and cream in both of our mugs. I poured the coffee, stirred, and brought them over to the table. I pulled the white ashtray, full of butt's, closer to us. I lit a cigaratte, and gave Darcy another one. She accepted it and used my lighter to light it.

"So," I said to her, "Explain yourself to me."

[Abigail]

Chapter Four
Written October 26th, 2006

Darcy looked at me with fear in her eyes. She twisted her cigaratte in her fingers and chewed her lip. She looked down and I could see her following the pattern of the table. The blue swirls in, while the green swirls out, all on a creamy-white surface. She traced it with her finger and then looked up again.

"Darc, I'm not mad, just, tell me, help me understand." I said to her, hoping to get her to open up, because I was starting to get a little angry at her lack of communication.

"I-I don't know mom, it's just, that, it's, I just like to be a baby I guess." She said, her voice getting lower as the sentence wore on.

"But why? That's what I don't get," was said the same time as the ashes fell from the glowing red tip of my cigaratte to the ashtray that was in between my daughter and I.

"I don't know Mom!" She said in a loud voice, I gave her a warning look, and she changed her tone real quick, "I guess it's just, you treat me like your friend ma, and it's not a bad thing, but I never got to be a kid. I was always expected to be so, so,"

"Mature?" I finished for her.

"Yeah."

"I never pushed that on you. You were just always like that, I loved that about you." I said.

"Becuase every time I wasn't, it was, like, you just," She paused for a second, "you would give me a dirty look or somthing stupid if I acted my age."

I didn't know what to say to that. I always did push her, especially being an only child, and the youngest in our family, she was always expected to engage in adult conversation, and act like an adult herself. It wasn't even like she had cousins back then, she does now, but they are all under two.

"Why did you tell your gram? And not me?"

"I don't know," she said, putting out her cigaratte and pushing the ashtray towards me, "I just knew she would understand I guess."

There was silence once more as I thought what she said over. So, it's my fault she's like this? And she thinks I wouldn't understand, well, she's right on that part, I DON'T understand. I butted my cigaratte also and looked at her once more.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, and you are right, I don't understand, but over time I will, I WANT to understand, I do, it's just new to me."

"Um, if, well, there are websites and forums and stuff that I go on all the time, so if you want, I guess you could look at them," she said to me.

"Sure, I guess I could do that," I replied.

"Just, don't judge me, okay mom?" She asked with plea in her eyes.

"I promise."

The conversation came to a close and Darcy got up and led me down the hall. We stepped into the little room, well, it was more suitable as a pantry, but we needed a place to cram the computer, and this was a perfect little spot. Darcy sat in the beat up burgandy swivel computer chair and turned on the monitor. You could hear the clicking of the mouse, the clanking of the old beat up keyboard and the moaning of the ancient computer. Finally, she pulled up a site and got out of the chair.

"Okay, my name is CUTIEpeTUTIE and well, just take a look," she said as she walked out of the room. I trudged over and sat down as I scrolled down the page. I glanced at a few threads and I wasn't pleased with them. 'Hwo do yu poop in dipear when yo gts a hard onnnnnnnn?!?!!!?!?!?!?!?11/1/1?1' I made a disgusted face at the peverted post, and decided right then and there; Darcy was not going here again. Then I saw her post. "Wow, your one sick guy, seriousely, get a life."

So she was thinking the same thing I was. At least she wasn't giving the sikko advice. I ran my fingers though my hair while I turned the screen off, I didn't need, nor want, to see any more of this site. I didn't want her on the computer at all, but that wouldn't be fair to her. I needed to make a decision. If I wanted to, I could ban her from all these sites, the joy of child blocks, but I didn't know how to do that. I could take away her diapers, and try to rid her of this. Maybe a psychologist would be right, he could squash this out of her. I pondered for a while longer, of all the possibilities. I didn't want her associating with those kinds of people.

I got up out of the chair and stretched, lifting my arms high above my head, as a chill ran down my spine and a yawn escaped my mouth. I cracked my toes and walked out of the room, closing the battered door behind me, my fingers brushing the cold metal handle. I saw Darcy sitting on the couch waiting for me.

"I don't want you to even go near that computer," I said to her, "ever again." I started to walk up the stairs back to my room.

"Mom! Wait," She hollered at me as I widened the gap between us.

"I don't want to hear it!" I screamed at her.

"I knew it..." I heard through her sobs as I shut my bedroom door and plopped myself on my bed. I got back up as I heard the door slam. I walked over to my window, wiping the dust off the ledge of it, as I watched her run down the street, towards the direction of my mother's house.

"Am I doing the right thing?" I thought to myself as I watched Darcy fade into the distance.

[Abigail]

Chapter Five
Written November 4th, 2006

I walked to my closet and opened the sliding doors. I jiggled the right door, as it always seemed to get stuck on the track. After a few seconds they both slid open exposing a large pile of junk. I looked up at the top and saw it hiding under a red wool sweater. I pulled it down and heaved it over to my bed, setting it down. I wiped off the dust and opened the lid. A pile of memories lay in the brown box. I picked up an old ragged doll and flattened the pink dress on it. Lucy was her name, I recieved her from my gram when I was three. I dug through more memories and finally my eyes fell upon it, one of my old diaries, Charlotte was her name. I love Justin was written all over her cover in red marker, with hearts and flowers. I smiled to myself as I opened it up. A single dried red rose fell out, brown with age, and smelling of dust. I carefully set it on my pillow, careful not to break it and flipped through the pages. I reached the entry I was looking for and began reading.

March 14th, 1986

Dear Charlotte,

Why? I asked myself all day, and can't figure it out. Why doesn't she understand? Can a girl not be bisexual? I try to open up, and she shuts me out. Why did she even have a kid if she couldn't deal with her. Just becuase I like girls she wants to send me away? I just don't get it. I hate my mom, I will just run away... I might as well, I'm not wanted anyways. I was just a stupid mistake. Stupid stupid stupid. Why can't she just accept me?

Tears filled my eyes. This is the exact same thing I'm doing to Darcy. Shutting her out, not accepting her, and she probably feels the same way I did. Maybe I shouldn't have become a mother. Of course she isn't like those people on the computer, I would have known. I need to talk to her, just, just talk to her is all. Walking over to my dresser, I pulled out a jogging suit and threw it on. I grabbed my keys, slipped on my garden shoes and hurried to the car. The engine started and the car pulled out of the driveway, and I was on my way to fix things.

I pulled up into my mom's driveway and shut the car off, got out and just as I was about to walk in she showed up at the door.

"It's not a good time for you to be here, just leave." My mom said to me.

"I need to speak to my daughter," I said to her.

"Why? So you can yell at her again? Accuse her of things again?" She hissed at me.

"Mom," I started getting teary again and my voice cracked. "Um, do you remember when I told you I was bisexual, remember how you didn't accept me?" I asked her.

"That was a long time ago," was her reply.

"I'm doing the exact same thing to my daughter, I vowed to myself I never would, I didn't think you loved me, I never thought I would do the same thing. I made a mistake, I need to speak to her." I said, my voice shaking.

"Look, it's not a goo--" She started.

"It's okay grama," Darcy said as she showed up to the door, her face red and tear streaked.

My mom retreated into the house and Darcy stood on the porch in front of me. I embraced her in a hug and I wouldn't let go.

"I'm so so sorry." I wispered to her, and "It's okay," was wispered back. We hugged for a long time, we both cried, our bodies shook as we tried to catch our breath. I rubbed her back, and she relaxed in my grip.

"Your wearing one now aren't you?" I quietly asked.

She took a step back and I let go of her.

"Uh, it's, gram bought them, it's, I..." She stuttered.

"It's okay baby, just come home, okay?" I asked, kissing her on the forehead and giving her another hug. She nodded and I told her I would wait in the car. I walked and opened the door and sat down. I wiped my tears and tried to calm myself down. My breathing slowed down and my hands stopped shaking. My daughter stepped out of the house with her bag, and a Shopper's Drug Mart bag, with the diapers in it and walked over to the car. I saw my mom smiling from her curtians. She let go and the curtians swung back to where they belong, and she dissapeared. The passenger door opened, the bags were thrown into the back seat and Darcy got in and buckled herself up.

"Mom..." She said to me.

"Ssshhh, it's okay." I replied.

"Good." Was her response.

[Abigail]

Chapter Six
Written December 14th, 2006

The car drove on, and seemed to hit every bump in the road, shaking up my emotions even more, so it seemed. I looked over at my daughter every once in a while, careful to keep my eyes on the road. She looked like she was thinking, but about what? I just wish I could get into her head, to know what she was thinking, and wondering about, and what she thought about me.

I always wanted to know that, what she thought about me. Was I one of those mothers, where she goes to school and talks about how annoying and what a bitch I am, and then comes home and acts like she didn't say anything. Or does she actually say good things about me? I know, it's quite childish sitting her wondering what my daughter is saying about me, but it is one thing that always got me to thinking.

Darcy had to pee. Her left knee was shaking, she did that every time she had to go, ever since she was little. I wondered why she just didn't let it go, but I wasn't going to encourage her to do that. She needed to on her own terms. We pulled up into the driveway and Darcy grabbed all her bags and ran to the door to unlock it. Before I even turned the car off she was inside. I walked inside myself and sat on the couch, and listened for noises, but heard none. She didn't call me, or anything.

I miss those days, when I was needed, when she wanted me to play with her, to do things for her, when I was an important part of her life, I just wasn't anymore.

----

"Mom! Mommy look! Look at the drawling I did for you! Red flowers and pink trees!" Darcy came running down the stairs to me and jumped on my lap.

"Very beautiful sweetie, but trees are green, not pink." I said to her giving her a kiss on the cheek. We both giggled.

"Haha! Silly me! I will go fix it, can you sharpen my pencil for me though? The green one?" She asked me.

"Of course, go get it."

I watched her run away, her hair waving from side to side, and her little legs carrying her as fast as she could go up the stairs.

----

A few tears escaped the corner of my eye and trickled down my rosy cheek. She was four then. She needed my help with the simplest things, like sharpening a pencil, and helping her learn how to colour a picture properly. Now she didn't need me at all. I think I needed her more than anything. 'But she does' The voice in the back of my head said to me. 'She needs you more than ever now.'

"Darc, come here please," I called to her

She came trodding down the stairs, and placed herself carefully on the broken coffee table in front of me.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," I said.

"It's okay mom," was her reply.

I pulled her into a big hug and she got on me as I moved back onto the couch, her legs wrapped around my waist. l rubbed her back and I continued to cry. I guess it didn't matter how big she was, she did need me. She moved a bit to get comfortable and her diaper crinkled.

"Your wet aren't you?" I asked her.

She looked up and blushed. "Uhm.." She said softly.

"Maybe you should change, instead of being in that icky wet diaper."

"Well, I kinda, uhm... I kinda like being wet." She said to me.

"Oh, okay," I said, it sounded a little, well more than a little weird to me. 'Keep an open mind' I said to myself.

"When do you usually change, like, when your at Grama's, does she let you change whenever, or tell you to change at a certian time?" I asked her.

"Uhm, Oh god, you don't, well, if you don't want to, it's just that Grama, she usually..."

"It's okay, just tell me." I said to her.

"Grama usually changes me!" She said a little too loud.

My eyes got wide. "Oh dear, really?" I was a little surpised at this, I mean, I want to help her, but changing my 16yr old daughter? That is a little too much. It's not that she's 16, I change my patients all the time, it's just the fact that she's my potty trained daughter.

"You don't have to mom, just grama did, you aren't comfortable with it, you don't need to."

"Okay good," I said. I looked at Darcy. By this time she had gotten off my lap and was sitting next to me. She looked down, her eyes looked grey, she looked sad. Maybe she wanted me to change her. I want to do everything to help her, maybe help her get over this, or through it, or just help her feel more comfortable with me. Anything, and if that means changing her sobeit.

"On second thought," I said, "I know you like being in that thing, but no daughter of mine is going to sit around long enough to get a rash, go get a diaper, you need a change."

She looked at me with eyes wide from suprise. My heart was pounding, and I think hers was too. Her chest went up and down frequently, she was breathing heavily.

"If you don't want me to that's fine, you can change yourself, and maybe we can talk more?" I asked her. I was having second thoughts about changing her already.

"Y-yeah! That's a good idea! Let's have lunch!" She said to me.

"Good idea!" I said back, we both had plastered smiles on our faces, we looked like a bunch of those children show actors, you know, the ones that never stop smiling and look like they are trying too hard.

"Let's invite Grama." Darcy said to me.

"Okay," I said back. Maybe she could help get rid of some of the aqwardness too. "Go call her."

Darcy went up the stairs, with the goofy grin still on her face, and I lit a cigaratte to calm my nerves.

"Oh lordie, what a day."

[Abigail]

Chapter Seven
Written December 18th, 2006

"Oh you guys are just being silly!" Mom said to my daughter and I as we sat in the living room.

Darcy and I both were quiet, and wouldn't look at eachother, it was very aqward. I looked over, and Darcy had her head down watching her feet tap, while she chewed her thumbnail. I looked at my mom and she gave me one of those "you make the first move" looks. I looked around and focused on the picture of Darcy and I on the wall. The chipped wood frame was dusty, and the picture was over a year old. I do have to say though, it was a great picture. With both of us in red Christmas sweaters, and white skirts. I -was- being silly. I was too afraid to look at my daughter, let alone talk to her, what kind of mother is that?

"Soo..." I began, well that's also where it ended, becuase I had nothing to say.

"Are you wet hunny?" My mom asked Darcy.

"Grammmmmmmmm," she whispered, with a very embarassed look.

"Well ladies come on! Look at yourselves, you would think you were a pair of teenagers on their first date! Darcy wears diapers! And Mel, you know! Is that so hard to comprehend?" She asked us.

I looked at her, studied her. She pierced me with her stare. You would think she could see right through me, which, at this moment, she probably could. She could see I was nervous, that I was afraid to talk to my own daughter. I am okay with it, I think, it's just still, odd. I don't know where to begin. I picked up my coffee cup and took a sip, and Darcy did at the same time, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Yes what dear?" Mom asked her.

"Yes, I'm wet," Darcy said even more quietly, her feet tapping even more quickly, her eyes watching them.

"Okay good, Mel, your daughter is wet, change her." She said to me.

I looked up, blinked. So this is what I get for inviting her over? There really was no point in fighting with her, once my mother has her mind set on something that's that, no questions, you do it. Even at my age, she still has a sense of control over what I do.

"Well Darc... uhmm, let's, uhm, get, uhhh, your diaper changed." I said to her.

She looked up at me like a deer caught in headlights, she stood up and I did the same. She walked up the stairs and I followed her.

"Can we send her home?" Darcy asked me with a weak smile.

"You wanted to invite her!"

"Nope, I believe that was you mom!" She said to me, giggling.

"I guess your right, so, where are your, uhh, diapers?" I asked her looking around the room. I spotted the bag in the corner just as she walked over to it, she pulled one out, along with baby powder and wipes and brought them over to her bed.

"You don't have to do this mom, it's okay, really." She said to me.

"No I don't mind, but question, where do you usually keep all this stuff?"

"Under the bed in my spare suitcase," She said like it was nothing.

I got on my knees and lifted the bed skirt. I pulled out her pink suitcase and opened it, suprised at what I found. A sleeper, an undershirt, onesie I think it was called, a huge pacifier, another undershirt, a few bottles, sippy cups, baby oil, bath toys and Princess pullups.

"Why do you have these?" I asked her, holding up a pullup.

"Becuase they are, well, they're cute." She said to me.

"Do they even go up your legs?"

"Yes, they actually fit, but barely." She said to me.

"Oh, I never realized they were so big!" I was suprised.

"Yeah...." she said, staring at me, "Can I change myself now?" She asked me.

"No no, don't be silly, I will do it." I picked up the diaper and started to spread it out. From the corner of my eye I saw a smile form on her face. The ice was finally broken. She pulled her pants down exposing her wet diaper, and lay down on the bed, lifting her t-shirt up to her belly button.

I reached over and expertly undid the tapes, I pulled the diaper down and grabbed a few wipes, and cleaned her diaper area up. I rolled the wet diaper up and set it aside. I rolled her onto her side and put down the fresh diaper, I rolled her back over and applied baby powder. I pulled the front up and taped it. This all took a matter of two seconds, I was so use to doing it in the hospital. Especially in the psych ward, it would baffle your mind to know how many of those adults are in diapers, for a variety of reasons.

----------------------------

"All done sweetheart!" I said to Darcy.

"Thanks Mommy! I'm sorry, I try harder next time!" She said to me, looking at me with her big curious eyes, a permenant beautiful wide smile on her face.

"It's okay sweetheart, take your time, now what?" I asked her.

"Horsie!" She yelled.

"Okay hop on ranger!" I said. She jumped on my back and I galloped around the room while she giggled non-stop.

----------------------------

"Mom?" I heard a voice. I shook my head a bit, snapping me out of my flashback and looked at my daughter and smiled. She really was a beautiful girl, despite what was on her bottom, in fact, it made her look quite cute.

"All done sweetheart," I said to her, patting the tapes to help them stay in place.

"Uhm, my pants," she said.

"Nah, you don't need those, in fact, I think this is quite cute, I said holding up one of the undershirts, it was dark blue with thinkerbell on it, and it said 'spoiled.'

"Your going to let me wear my onesie?" She asked me with her wide eyes.

"Yeah why not?"

With every passing second her smile got wider and her eyes got brighter. She sat up and gave me a big hug.

"Thanks..." she whispered, but there was no need, I knew she was thankful.

"Anytime baby," I said to her.

She lifted her shirt off and I gave her the onesie. She slipped it on and stood up, the flaps dangling. I reached through and snapped the snaps and stepped back. She stood there in a onesie, with a diaper clearly visible under it. I reached in the suitcase and took the white pacifier and put it in her mouth. She really was adorable.

"Okay, go downstairs." I said to her.

She trodded out of the room and skipped the last few stairs, landing with a thud on the floor.

"Well hello cutie pie!" I heard my mother say, "come sit on grama's lap."

----------------------------

"Silly grama! I wanna sit on mommy's lap! She gives good cuddles!" Darcy said. "Moooommmmmmyyyyyyy! Mommy! Grama tryin to steal me from you!"

"Coming munchkin!" I called back. I heard giggles coming from the living room, from both Darcy and my mom.

"Tickle Moster! Mommy! Save me!" She yelled.

----------------------------

...She does need me, I thought to myself.

[Abigail]

Chapter Eight
Written June 17th, 2008

We had a good time, we played. We laughed. We held each other. We sat in silence. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to connect, actually understand my daughter. I don’t think most parents can say that. My co-workers all talk about dance recitals, school plays and the trials they go through with their children, but not once have any of them talked about any intimate moments with them, where they truly understood and cared for them. Although I imagine if there was another family out there doing the same thing Darcy and I were doing now they wouldn’t go blurting it to the whole world, and neither would I.

“Do you work tomorrow,” Darcy asked, averting her eyes from the television to me.

“No, sweetheart.” I replied back.

“Can I stay home, again?”

“No, you have school, and work if I’m not mistaken, your not going to start avoiding your responsibilities now, are you?” I asked her, turning my eyes to stone, to get the message across.

“Nah, of course not, I was just wondering, y’know, for that one day.” She mumbled, resting her head on my lap again.

“Why are you being so harsh on her again, Mel? Let the girl stay home.” My mother commented.

I shot her a look, letting her know that despite all she does for us I was still the parent.

“Well, I think it’s about time I head home, I’ll call you guys before I go to bed.” Mom announced as she stood up. She came over and gave both Darcy and myself a hug and a kiss and headed for the door.

“See ya later, and get this darn porch light fixed,” she said. We heard the door creak shut, and we both busted into hysterics.

“And get this darn porch light fixed.” Darcy said in a nasally voice, trying to imitate my mother.

“She always has -something- to complain about, doesn’t she?” I replied through my laughter, “lord love her.”

The night wore on, we didn’t eat much. Darcy warmed herself up hamburgers that we had a few nights ago, and I had a roast beef sandwich, also the product of some leftovers. Finally, after sitting in the spot for too long I stood up and stretched, before sitting back down again. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes, and rested one between my dry lips. I let the flame do it’s work and sucked in - instantly feeling relief. I exhaled and inhaled again, feeling even better. Darcy leaned over and took one of mine nonchalantly, and lit it for herself. Her inhales and exhales sounded so laboured, deep, loud.

“Now Darc, while I don’t mind if you do smoke, just promise to keep it to a minimum, don’t let it overtake your life and bank account like it did me.” I warned her.

“Don’t worry mom, I won’t let it do that, it’s just nice every once in a while, y’know?”

“I know honey, but that’s how it starts.” I replied to her.

Twelve am crept closer and closer, until finally even my eyelids were hard to keep open, and I wanted to go get into the comfort of my bed.

“I think you should go to bed now, Darcy, it’s late.” I said to her.
“Okay,” is all she said to me.

She got up and went to put her cup of juice in the kitchen sink. I stood up as well, turning off the television and grabbing my cigarettes. I fixed the blanket on the back of the couch, and went to fix the cushion when I saw a dark spot on it. Knowing what it was I followed Darcy upstairs, which only confirmed my suspicion, and followed her to her room.

“You do know you leaked on the couch, right?” I asked her.

“Oh, no.” She said, turning around to face me.

“Don’t you usually feel when you need to be changed?” I asked. I could see the red flushing her cheeks.

“Well, you knew, so it’s just that Grama usually -----” She said, the end of her sentence inaudible because she was mumbling so low. Somehow I was able to know what she was going to say, anyways.

“Grama usually changes you, so you don’t have to worry about it?” I said, knowing what the answer was.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, take that onesie off, and lay down,” I instructed.

Darcy unsnapped the snaps, and lay down on the bed. Everything was still out from before, so I took a fresh diaper and the adult wipes she had. I went over, still a little nervous, and undid her sopping wet diaper. I wiped her very quickly, and put the new one on.

“All done,” I said to her as I rolled up the old one. Luckily, I was used to this. I always have a few older patients on my floor that need to be changed, or the ones that are just too sick to know what a bathroom is, let alone the concept of it.

“Thanks,” she said to me while crawling in bed. “Night, mom.”

“Night, baby,” I kissed her on the forhead, “see you in the morning.”

I shut off her light and closed her door lightly.

I threw the used diaper out in my bathroom and sat down to relieve myself. It felt so good, after having a full bladder, to finally sit on a cold toilet and let it all out. It was such a relief, like a weight had been lifted, why anyone would want to get rid of that feeling and use a diaper instead was beyond me. After I wiped I left my pants off and slowly crept into my room, and leapt into bed, not even bothering to undress the top half of my body. I laid down and lit another cigarette.

I thought. I thought of Darcy, what I’ve found out, I thought of how my bed creaked too loud when I rolled over. I just thought about everything, my mind was running a marathon and the finish line wasn’t anywhere close to here. No wonder people need sedatives, I thought to myself. Is this what it’s like? When you have so much stress in your life you can’t even sleep because of it? I wanted to cry, I didn’t know why, but I wanted to. Maybe even scream, I know screaming would make me feel better. Maybe I could scream out all the confusion. At that moment I pictured multi-coloured swirls floating out of my mouth, nostrils, and ears.

I put out my smoke and lay my head on my pillow, focusing on the picture next to my bed. Keegan, Oh Keegan. I missed him so much. The phone rang, I knew it was my mom, but I didn’t want to pick it up, I was too busy.

“I miss you sweetheart. I need you to hold me. I can hold and comfort Darcy, but who’s going to be there for me?” I thought. How can I be strong, when there is no strength left?