XIII. Call and response
As told by Milo
The theatre event had been tiring, to say the least. I spent the entire evening waiting for my turn, since some moron had decided it would be a good idea to end the event with my play. Who ends a night like this with a tragedy? Not every piece was a tragedy, and not all tragedies were as tragic as mine.
Not that I was very pleased with the performance. Roderick had done a good job, but I was very uncertain about the ending of the play. What would my tutor think of it? Would it meet her expectations? Would it be good enough? Was she able to see the difference between what I wrote and how the actors performed my play?
Mulling about all the details I wanted to have done better, I took off my clothes and prepared for bed. Winter had been over for weeks, so wearing a pawed sleeper had become a little too warm. I settled with a shirt and pajama shorts instead.
Of course, I wore a diaper underneath. A few minutes later, I was laying on my bed, alone in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Well, not entirely alone. As always, my faithful shark plushie was on my side.
I wondered why it felt like the weight of the entire world was on my shoulders. That particular feeling was not new, on the contrary. I had felt it many times before, mostly during annual festivities, or in moments other people had their parents with them.
For instance, when I finished elementary school at age twelve, every other kid had their parents with them when the teachers said goodbye to their students. Mine were not present, obviously. Of course, my grandparents were there, but I was old enough to know it was different.
I have been different in a lot of things, for most of my life. First of all, my particular breed is very rare. On top of that, stripes are a fur embellishment one would expect with a feline, not a canine. Furthermore, I still wet the bed at age twenty. What grown dog does that?
And I have not even begun to mention being an infantilist. I'm glad only Nina knows about my secret. I would be mortified if anyone else found out about it. The time in which I was ashamed towards myself is long gone, but I still feel embarrassed towards other people. Essentially, playing puppy is not 'normal' or 'natural', is it?
Many things about me are out of the ordinary, including the things I just mentioned, but certainly not limited to those. The way I spend my birthday is probably - and hopefully - one very few people share with me.
Usually, I slept in late, stayed indoors all day, and tried to play puppy as much as I can. Then, after dinner, I would remain diapered, but immerse myself in a long gaming session. I usually played way past midnight, so I would be tired enough to fall asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.
Tomorrow was going to be my tenth birthday without my parents being there to celebrate it with me. After this one, I would have seen more birthdays without my parents than I had with them. Something inside told me I had to move on, but how could I ever move past the loss of my parents?
"Why did they leave me?" I shouted through my tears. "I miss you guys so much!"
I felt like I had spent every single day waiting for the moment I would see my parents again.
"It hurts so much! If there's a way to be free of this, I'd do anything. If there's a path or a door I missed, tell me..."
Unfortunately, I would not be reunited with them in my life. During puberty, I had thought about taking my life a couple of times, but I never acted on those thoughts in any way. Maybe I did not dare to do it, or I did not want to hurt my grandparents.
Gramps and Granny did their best, they really did, but they don't even know who I am. They think I'm a big and independent grown-up dog, but I'm nothing more than a puppy. I could do nothing but wait until my time in this world would finally be over.
"They can't take care of me forever. Gramps is gone already, and I bet it won't take long before Granny is taken away too."
I cringed, sobbing heavily. My tail was tucked tightly between my legs, and I felt it pressing against my diaper.
"Why did they all leave me?" I asked Sharra.
Of course, the shark did not respond, leaving me in a painful and awkward silence. Then suddenly, it dawned on me. I was losing my nerve. Me, a twenty-one-year-old dog, talking to himself in self-pity. I was stronger than this, right?
"When will I ever grow up? I'm wearing a diaper and I'm talking to a toy, for crying out loud!"
In my anger, I threw Sharra across the room. The plushie hit the wall, bounced off and landed on the floor. I wanted to tear my diaper off as well, but decided against doing so. After all, I was wearing it for a reason, and I knew I would not feel like changing my sheets in the morning. Or very early in morning, for that matter.
"Everything is going wrong! What is my life worth? What have I become? I've accomplished nothing... I wish I could start again. I'd be different, I'd find a way. I'd keep my parents... I'd do better..."
Being a puppy is not the worst -not even being a good puppy is what is killing me. Gramps asked me to take care of his wife, and I didn't even do that.
_ "Son, since I cannot keep my promise, will you take care of your grandmother when I'm gone? Call her, visit her or whatever, but make her feel like she's not alone, will you?"_
_ "I promise, gramps. You've taken good care of me after mom and dad died, and I_ will repay the favor."
I vaguely remembered him saying afterwards that I was a good puppy, but I could not remember how the words sounded anymore. After all, I had made a promise, but did not keep it. How often had I called my grandmother? How many times did I visit her after she became a widow?
It's harder starting over than never to have changed. Something had to change, though. I picked up my phone from my nightstand and checked my call log, searching for the last time I had called or been called by her.
"Three weeks. Three whole weeks and I didn't even call her once," I muttered.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself, in an attempt to keep myself from throwing my cell phone to the wall as well. In contrast to plushies, cell phones typically do not survive being chugged against solid concrete.
Fortunately, I managed to get a hold of myself. I refrained from calling Granny, though, as I felt like I was not in the mood for a phone conversation - for _any_conversation, come to think of it. I would call her in the morning, after breakfast.
Regardless of the fact I had not called Granny for a while, my birthday was inevitable. In fact, it already was my birthday, technically. As playing puppy did not comfort me, I wanted to be with someone, hoping I would feel better. Or less bad, that is. Spending time with Nina would not be a wise choice, since that would give me a hard time not thinking of playing puppy.
I strongly hoped I could go over to Granny's place, even though I did not feel like talking at that moment. Perhaps I would feel different in the morning. Somehow, deciding to make a phone call put my mind at rest, and I was finally able to fall asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I checked my cell phone and saw it was around half past nine. Deciding it was late enough to call Granny without waking her up, I browsed to my contact list and selected her number. She answered the call surprisingly soon.
"Trisha Larkin, good morning."
"Hi Granny," I said, laying down on my bed. I was still a bit tired.
"Oh Milo, it's you. It's been a while since you last called," she painfully reminded me. "How are you doing?"
"The same as always when it's today," I replied, trying not to complain.
"I more or less expected that, son. If you need anything..." she started, but her voice trailed off. She was probably uncertain how to phrase the other half of her sentence.
"Well, that's actually what I was calling you for. I'm sorry I'm not really in the mood for talking right now, but I at least wanted to ask if I could have dinner with you today. I feel like I don't want to be alone tonight."
There was a short silence.
"Of course you can, Milo, you're more than welcome. If you want to, you can even sleep over," she said calmly.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not so sure about that, Granny," I replied hesitantly, attempting not to make it sound like I wanted to turn her offer down.
"Just pack for the occasion, so you can decide on the moment itself. Oh, and feel free to bring anything along to make you feel comfortable. I know how hard days like these are for you."
"I'll see about that, but thanks again."
"Thanks to you too, son."
"What for?" I asked, cocking my head even though she could not see that.
"Like I said, it's been a while since we last talked. I'm sure we've got some catching up to do. I'll be looking forward to your visit, even if you're not in the mood to talk. Having you near me is enough to make me happy."
"Even if I'm not?" I doubted.
"Don't you worry about days that aren't here yet, Milo. Time will tell. Maybe it's all going to be better than you expect."
"Maybe... Thanks, Granny. I'll see you tonight."
"That's fine, dear. Dinner will be at the usual time, so drop in at around five in the afternoon, okay?"
"I'll be there. Bye, Granny," I reassured.
"See you soon, Milo," she replied, ending the call afterwards.
Sitting up, I put my phone back on my nightstand. I decided I should get out of bed and try to find something to distract myself, until I would go to my grandmother's place. Breakfast would be first, though, but not before I had taken my diaper off.
As I got up from my bed, grumbling about my nighttime protection proving itself a necessity, rather than a luxury, I noticed Sharra lying on the floor. He was staring at me with eyes that seemed to express a feeling of hurt.
In a flash I remembered throwing him across my room the night before. Guilt struck me and I knelt down, gently picking the shark up and cradling him in my arms. Something about the plushie made me want to cuddle him, even though I felt too horrible to play puppy. Not that it would even work anyway.
"I'm sorry for throwing you against the wall, Sharra," I whispered as I hugged him tightly. "Maybe I should bring you with me to Granny after all. My pacifier too... It won't hurt, would it?"
Of course, the shark did not respond.