Part of him was ashamed at needing diapers, but a bigger part secretly enjoyed it. The thick padding swaddling him gave him a sense of comfort and security. It helped manage his anxiety. Even after his accident, he had some bladder and bowel control. Instead of struggling with a toileting routine, all he’d wanted was the protection and safety of his diapers.

Now he wore 24/7. Thick, crinkly padding with babyish prints. Big baby diapers instead of plain, medical, absorbent briefs. He had both at home, but he mostly wore Adult Baby diapers. He found comfort in some aspects of being an Adult Baby; his bear and his pacifier. Sucking on the rubber nipple helped calm him when his anxiety flared up. Like it was now. Rosie had taken his pacifier. She told him he’d get it back as long as he was a good boy while she was gone.

A chill breeze picked up as the sun started to sink. Strange voices and snatches of conversation broke into his thoughts. His heart thumped in his chest painfully. He whimpered. Where was Rosie? He was too terrified to look up. Rosie promised she’d only be gone a few minutes. She’d lied to him again. Deep down, he’d known this was going to happen. Rosie’s promises were empty lies.

He wished he was home, watching Hocus Pocus. He hadn’t wanted to come to the Harvest Festival at all. He never came; he always spent Halloween at home, watching movies with Fiji. This year, his aunt and uncle were in the city to take care of grandma, who was in the hospital. His aunt and uncle usually manned the Animal Shelter booth, trying to get donations for the shelter. The last minute emergency with grandma left no time to find a replacement, so his uncle had signed Rosie up to help out. Rosie dragged Lucas along. She had him wear one of his sleepers as a big baby costume, along with his pacifier and sippy cup he used at night. He got thirsty at night, and the sippy cup prevented spills in bed. His aunt and uncle viewed his baby preferences as strange coping mechanisms. Since it helped him, they let it go.

Lucas shifted in his seat, feet pushing against the wheelchair’s solid footrest. His monstrous diaper crinkled. It was one of the thickest diapers he owned. He’d inserted a booster for extra measure to get him through this horribly long night. He felt so horribly alone. Lost. Strangers pressed in on all sides. What should he do?

Panic spiked. His chest constricted. He was fighting a losing battle to remain calm. Oh, where was Rosie? Rational thought blanked out. All he could do was struggle to breathe and ride the wild waves of out of control fear assaulting him.

“Cookie.” He croaked desperately, calling for his old service dog. Cookie had passed away a year ago. She made his life so much easier. His constant companion. She’d been both a psychiatric service dog and a mobility support dog. She helped him with physical challenges and his anxiety. She’d been trained in deep pressure therapy and tactile stimulation to help relieve his attacks. If Cookie was still at his side, she’d have calmed him down by now.

Cookie had been a Christmas gift from his aunt and uncle when he was fourteen. She’d been a purebred Dalmatian. Her name came from her resemblance to Oreo ice cream. She had come from a puppy mill notorious for inbreeding. This resulted in the dog having a lot of health problems. Lucas only had Cookie for a few years before she passed. His aunt and uncle had paid twenty thousand dollars for her. They’d saved up special for her.

His chest constricted. His breathing was shallow and heavy. He couldn’t get air in deep enough for his lungs. He breathed too fast, not inhaling all the way. He curled in on himself, pain radiating outwards.

“Hey, cutie pie. Did ya lose this?” The strange female voice sounded like it came from far away, through a tunnel of static.

“Rosie sent me to give you this. Don’t you want your pacifier?”

The words fell in a jumbled cacophony at his wheels. He was too lost in his own head, in memories and emotions, to understand her words.

“Hey. Snap out of it.” Fingers snapped sharp in his ears.

He barely heard it over the pounding in his heart.

“Geeze. You’re like a zombie. C’mon kiddo.”