My migraine started after Family Matters class and cranked into fourth gear by Maths. At lunchtime I went to the office and got a pass to go home. All I wanted to do was go home, close the curtains, get into bed and pull the covers up to my chin and invite beautiful darkness into my head.
At home, when I opened the front door, I was surprised to hear Alistair's gaming music coming from his room. I'd seen him in his work clothes earlier that morning, so I didn't know what he was doing home. Unless he got sick too? But then what's he doing playing a game? He should be in bed.
I opened his door, quietly, in case he was asleep, and poked my head into his room. He was sitting on the floor naked, except he was wearing a white cloth. It looked like a child's diaper.
'Get out!' he shrieked, his face bursting out red all over. 'Get out! Get out!'
My hand was shaking as I closed the door. What the hell had I just seen? What was my husband doing wearing a diaper? I forgot all about my migraine and paced up and down the hallway, unsure of what to do. There was a weird feeling in my stomach, like I wanted to throw up. Who the hell is this strange guy who is my husband? H-U-S-B-A-N-D. The word was cream with black stripes. I was slapped with the knowledge that I was married to a total F-R-E-A-K.
I barged back into his room. He'd somehow managed to pull a pair of jeans on.
'What the hell are you?' I screamed.
'What?'
'Where is it?' I felt myself out of control.
'What?'
'The diaper!'
I rushed over to him and tugged at the waist of his jeans, but I couldn't see any white underneath. I felt insane with anger and confusion. I never went into this room of his, but suddenly I looked around and wanted to know what was hidden in here. I started opening and closing a chest of drawers. It was filled with electrical cables, electronic devices, battery charges and double adapters.
I opened the cupboard doors and found a box on a shelf. I pulled it down and slammed it on the floor. In the box I found a bundle of cloth diapers and oversized pins. There were also disposable diapers. I started throwing them around the room. I was so angry, but I still couldn't comprehend what I'd discovered.
Alistair had his head face down in the couch and was sobbing. His back was convulsing, his shoulders contracting with the weight of his shame.
'Look at me,' I said, standing over him, despising his pathetic state.
He raised his puffy red face to me.
'Tell me what this is,' I demanded.
'I've got a thing for diapers.'
'What?'
'I don't know ... it's this thing I have ... since I was nine maybe. I like wearing diapers.'
'But you're not a baby.'
'I know.'
'Is it ... is it ... a sexual thing?'
'Maybe.'
'So you get off on it?'
'Sort of.' I felt sick to my very core.
'Are you into children?' I asked, suddenly very scared.
'No. Absolutely not. Please believe me.' He started to sob again. His tears were so enormous his whole body jerked. 'It's not like that at all. It's just this thing I have and I don't know why.'
'Do you use the diaper?'
'Huh?'
'Do you do your business in the diaper?' He cried so loudly and seemed so ashamed that I didn't even need him to answer because I already knew that the answer was yes.
'If you come near me, I will have you committed,' I shouted. 'Do you understand?'
He nodded miserably.
'Move all your things into this room. I never want to see you. If you hear me in the kitchen don't come out.' I paused at the door, needing to say one final thing. 'You need help.'