Teenage Baby

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Aaron's back didn't ache like it usually did when he would first wake up, so he assumed whatever he had slept on was quite comfortable. He smiled at the long lost comfort, but as soon as he did, he registered that there was something rubbery in his mouth. At that, the grin failed, and he flung his upper body forward.

He instinctively gripped whatever had been put in his mouth with shaky fingers and neared it to his face, large grey eyes unable to adjust to the dim illumination. He waited anxiously for his vision to straighten, each passing second torturous as premature assumptions swarmed through his mind and filled him with horrible dread.

"Pacifier?" he whispered. He couldn't fathom how that had gotten into his mouth and the effort to conjure an explanation alone made his head pound harder. Skeptic, he looked past the pacifier and tried inspecting the place.

The faint ray of light that emanated from an unknown source sliced through the disorienting darkness, but it did little to illuminate the area enough for him to acknowledge where he was. As soon as Aaron tried feeling the surroundings, his hand clashed with something hard and solid. He leant forwards, squinting and straining for perception, heart dropping when he realized he was surrounded by wooden bars.

His mind subconsciously associated the bars with captivity. He hadn't even known he was so easily prone to sweat, but it wasn't a second before droplets collected on his forehead. He was about to stand up, but there was something odd about the material against his body—it was very soft, he realized as he strained to check properly, eyes widening when he caught sight of what he was wearing.

A footed onesie.

He knew very well that he hadn't put it on himself, and worse, he was positive he didn't even own one. Someone had put it on him, and the mere thought had him trembling—the atrocity of an anonymous person having had stripped his clothes down and dressed him in a footed onesie, all while he was oblivious.

Aaron couldn't even stand someone laying a finger on his shoulder, let alone this. The panic set in, though alarmingly different to the kind that engulfed him when he'd pat his pockets and not feel his phone. This was far more excruciating, far more engulfing—heart clashing like a desperate prisoner against his ribs, fearful assumptions swarming in a chaotic head-full of lies and want and dreams gone amiss. Like that hadn't been enough.

He exhaled shakily, a desperate attempt to remain composed. He didn't even know how he'd winded up here and midst the chaos couldn't even recall what'd happened the past day, but he knew that he sure as hell needed to get out.

He focused harder on his surroundings and it took a full torturous minute of intent inspection for an abrupt realization to sink in. The bars didn't seem too long. His gaze trailed up. A deceitful sense of relief seeped to his trembling heart at the comforting confirmation; the bars didn't tower all the way up and over his head. This wasn't a cage.

But then, something suddenly struck him hard, and his saw-edged nerves flared with tension again after that fleeting moment of relief. It wasn't a cage. It was a crib, a relatively big one if he could fit in it.

A pacifier, a footed onesie, and now a crib: all the belongings of a baby, not a teenager. The unnatural ambiguity of the situation was making it worse. He gripped the bars with clammy hands and heaved himself up, but not even halfway through until his trembling knees failed beneath him and he found himself plopped against the mattress again.

He tried not to panic—he really did—but every single factor seemed to whisper to him: yeah, you should really panic now. He'd felt like he'd been drugged but now the inexplicable exhaustion in his bones along with the fact that he couldn't move properly proved it. A helpless whimper escaped the constriction of his dry throat and echoed in the eerie silence, the only noise to accompany the heavy thumps of his heart.

He needed to get out, but he couldn't. It was awful to witness his brain scream move! but his limbs just remain put because psychological barriers and drugs were one hell of a combination. His own body battling itself. The natural instinct to scream for help hit him but he was the opposite of everyone and instead thought it'd summon the captors. His shoulders shuddered at the thought. What kind of psycho did this to him?

The door creaked open. Aaron froze and for a moment, so did his heart and so did his breath. As still as the wood around him, he listened for anything else. One second his heart was dead and the next it was pounding harder than ever before, one second his blood was cold and clotted and the next it was gushing hot in his veins. And he'd thought his mind was the only paradox.

Aaron suddenly heard a faint click, and it was followed by a blinding onslaught of lighting. He squinted for a second, but then his vision cleared and he took in the sight of a woman standing at the threshold. She didn't appear too intimidating, except for the way she was smiling creepily, twinkling eyes probing him so intensely he could feel their weight as they grazed his lithe form. Why the hell is she staring like that? he thought, an unsettling amount of fear brewing deep in his core.

A man slowly sauntered in next and stood beside her, wearing no hideous attire and appearing quite normal, but it wasn't just him. Set on his hip was another teenage boy, dressed in nothing but a pull-up, a pacifier bobbing incessantly between his lips.

Aaron's trembling heart dropped and every inch of his mind screamed in disbelief. Another teen, dressed like a baby and held like one. He wanted to look away, to believe that everything was just a nightmare, but he couldn't refrain from staring, wide-eyed, his brain unable to accept the unreal sighting.

The man smiled affectionately, dark eyes shimmering. "Why's my baby sad? Is something wrong?

My baby. Aaron stilled and contemplated, but a split second later, it hit him. He brought a quivering hand to his waist and felt around, eyes widening with terror at the late realization. How, he thought, breath racing, had he not noticed the padding beneath his onesie before?

"Welcome to your new family, baby."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Hello! Let me talk to you real quick about the changes I'm forced to make in order to make sure TB doesn't get deleted again:

Aaron is no longer forced to use a diaper. They will let him use the toilet. I changed it in a way that will make sense relative to the plot and captors' mindset. You'll see later the explanation from their perspective.

Also, as you all know, in the original version, Aaron was 16. In this version, you're gonna notice that ONCE in the entire book, I'm gonna mention that Aaron is 18. It's only, solely to stay safe from wattpad deleting TB again (bc minors being forced to do things is tricky and might break guidelines). Treat it like a number I threw in for safety, and then forget about it. Nothing will change about Aaron as a character; he will stay exactly the same, with the exact same thoughts/mindset/behavior/appearance/size/decisions. So don't panic, just disregard and move on. For me nothing changes.

Before you yell at me, understand that I'm forced to change these things in order to stay safe. If I don't change like I did, wattpad might delete TB again or my account altogether. Remember that these changes will only affect early chapters. 10/12 and up will stay exactly the same.

If you're willing to stay with me and this book even after everything that's happened, I love you. Make sure to follow my side account Anyone287  in case something happens to this account!