Home About Us Photos Videos Stories Reviews Forums & Chat Personals Links Advertise Donate Contact
After you've finished reading, you might want to return to the DailyDiapers Story Index
Goodbye -
Hello
I was just
waking up but still caught in the remnants of a dream.
I was panicking.
I was breathless. I was kicking and squirming. I was
fighting some unknown force that held me captive but all
I could do was struggle hopelessly.
My breathing was
becoming forced as I battled to inhale but it was no
use, I was drowning, I was suffocating, I was battling
against some overwhelming power and could feel myself
losing.
My heart was
pounding heavily inside my brain as I gasped for life,
the resistance in my arms collapsed, my legs became
deadweight and I felt life evaporating.
I tried one last
act of defiance I attempted to scream “No”… but only
silenced followed.
#
My God, no, that
should be my god, I never believed in a supreme being so
there was no point acknowledging some intergalactic,
ephemeral porridge as my Lord and Saviour now.
No, what I
really meant was… my god when did I get so old?
I was looking
down at my body from above. This grey-haired, wrinkly
old man can’t have been me, I never saw myself as that.
In fact, up until this moment I always thought I was
doing pretty well for my age.
I wished someone
would come and close my eyes. Those staring but empty
green eyes, that had enraptured so many people over the
years, were just pasty looking pieces of reflection,
though now reflecting nothing.
My point of view
changed and I was now standing next to myself, this was
weird. I felt I could reach out and touch, perhaps rouse
myself and get on with… with… with… well, er, something,
I’m sure I was a very busy man.
Now I was closer
I looked even older but at least peaceful. The dream (?)
hadn’t creased my face any more than it already was,
though I’m not sure I’d win any ‘Corpse of the Year
Show’. No, I was definitely dead but found it strange
that I was still hanging around.
When I’d thought
about death before, when I wasn’t dead, I anticipated
that I wouldn’t know anything about it. Now? Well I have
to take in this sad, empty husk that was once me and in
truth, I didn’t like it.
I stood at the
end of the bed wondering when someone would come and
discover my body. I didn’t envy that job to anyone
because I remembered when I’d found my own deceased
mother a good twenty years earlier. She’d died in her
sleep, with a glass of her favourite whisky on the
nightstand and as it was still full, I knew death had
come rather unexpected. She wasn’t one to waste a good
drink.
I remember how I
cried as I mourned the loss of the only woman in my
life. The tears I’d still shed… oops, sorry, used to
shed… on the anniversary of her death. I wondered who
would grieve for me.
For the past
seven years, since my partner died, I’d become a bit of
a recluse. I can count the number of friends I still
have/had on, well, one finger.
Looks like I
might be hanging around for some time… and still those
empty green eyes were staring off into space… perhaps,
with the power of thought, I could close them?
Naa, it didn’t
work.
I looked into
them more deeply, trying desperately to see if there was
anything left of me inside but, nothing was really
there. I thought I’d caught a brief glimmer, a tiny
spark, a glint of something… and then it started.
A shiver ran
through my body. I don’t know why, I’m dead so shouldn’t
be feeling the cold but I couldn’t ignore the strange
tremor that filled my corpse as I searched deep into my
own eyes.
It was like I
was rewinding a film. A blur of images that I knew meant
something but couldn’t make out what. Every now and then
it would suddenly stop and for the briefest of moments
caught some important aspect of my life. Not all those
fleeting insights into my life actually meant that much
to me. They were true but I couldn’t understand why they
would stand out.
Like the first
holiday I took with my partner, I was twenty-four, he
was twenty two and we were on holiday in an apartment in
Spain. It was his first trip abroad and was keen to
explore. Whilst I sorted out our suitcases he went to do
a bit of grocery shopping.
He was gone a
long time.
Eventually I
could hear some loud banging from somewhere in the
apartments we were staying in. It was going on for quite
some time and I wondered if someone was having a
problem. I looked along the corridor but there was no
one there and I could hear it was coming from directly
above where I was standing so I walked up the stairs and
looked along the third floor corridor. There… kicking
the door of room 305 was my partner. He looked angry.
I coughed discreetly and seeing me at the other
end of the corridor quickly made his way back to our
room – 205.
I was in
hysterics that he had forgotten our room number, had
banged on some poor holidaymaker’s door and had been
swearing at the door as he thought I was in the shower
and ignoring him. Later he told me that when he’d got to
the little shop he realised he didn’t speak any Spanish
so decided just to pick up the things he wanted and pay
for them, that way he wouldn’t have to say a word.
Unfortunately,
this also didn’t go as planned as he saw a small wicker
basket with three baguettes and decided to help himself
only to be pursued by a little old lady, dressed in
black, demanding her bread back, much to his
embarrassment. So flustered was he that when another
person asked him in perfect English about a shampoo he
said he didn’t speak Spanish and fled the shop.
Once out in the
street he’d forgotten exactly the direction the
apartment block was in so had spent the best part of
fifteen minutes searching for the place. Even then he
wasn’t sure and the last straw was the fact that I
wouldn’t answer the door to him… even if he was at the
wrong one, it was my fault.
I chuckled to
myself at the memory before the images started hurtling
again and ended up with a toddler holding its mummy’s
hand.
At first I
didn’t recognise him at all.
We were on a
beach and the shy little boy was facing the sea for the
very first time. Dressed only in a nappy and plastic
pants he furtively stepped into the cool water and
giggled as he quickly retreated say “It cowld”
His mummy, my
mummy was encouraging as she guided me once again to
enjoy the first wave to lap against my tiny naked feet.
I looked up at her smiling as she told me what a brave
boy I was being. I liked her praising me as I paddled in
the cool water, knowing mummy thought I was being very
brave.
The scene
changed and I was with my two elder brothers and we were
making sandcastles, well, they were making a huge pile
of sand into something they said would be a castle. I
merely scooped up sand with my small plastic spade and
poured it into my Mickey Mouse plastic bucket. I was
naked and mummy was rubbing some thick creamy lotion
into my body.
“Don’t want my
baby boy getting burnt do we?” She smiled as I was
covered in the sweet smelling lotion.
The sun was warm
on my back as I sat on a towel next to mummy, my
brothers built sand higher and higher.
I must have
fallen asleep because the next thing I saw was mummy
fastening me back into my nappy and plastic pants,
pulling on a little Disney t-shirt and shimmying up my
Mickey Mouse red shorts over the thick protection.
“Whoooaa”
Those can’t be
the only two thoughts left in my mind… can they?
Even as I
recalled this… the memory of them began to fade… and I
saw a policeman enter the room.
I heard him say
to a paramedic that judging from the smell I’d been dead
for quite some time. I saw the medic unzip a huge black
plastic bag, which was soon to be my resting place. He
did a quick examination of me and slipped down my
pyjamas, noted I was wearing a soiled nappy and quickly
pulled them back up.
“Poor bugger,
looks like his last act was to shit himself.”
I’d worn a nappy
for quite some time. Even when I wasn’t ill I’d taken
some pleasure in wearing one again. I’m not sure if my
brain was going, or if I was clinging onto something
that I’d always had pleasant associations with but, I
suppose it didn’t matter now. I’d enjoyed the last few
months of wearing a nappy to bed whilst I could still
fasten the pins. However, I wasn’t expecting to die when
I did, so I’m afraid someone else would have to deal
with it all.
I have to say I
was surprised that the people who now occupied my room
were so gentle, so considerate about my dead body… I
hadn’t expected that. I don’t know what I’d expected and
I suppose it doesn’t matter much now anyway.
I watched as I
was zipped into my final resting place and that chill
I’d unexpectedly felt earlier rippled down my spine.
Well, I’m not sure it was my spine because I was
suddenly transported into a warm, dark place. A
throbbing sound was in my head but I could no longer see
anything.
I suppose this
is death. Nothing?
Actually, it was
something but I couldn’t work out what. I hoped that
there wasn’t going to be a pair of huge pearly gates and
someone there with a check list. That would be most
embarrassing.
I was getting
restless and stretched but the sounds I could hear
calmed me down and I settled into the warmth that now
engulfed me.
I woke up and I
was kicking, it all felt tight and squeezed and I wasn’t
happy. My eyes were closed as I suddenly slipped from
the comforting balminess into a much cooler and brighter
environment. Now the noise was louder with people
speaking and again I could hear the words “brave” and
“boy” but not how mummy had said them.
There was so
much going on and then I heard a cry... it was me, I
could feel and hear myself crying.
#
Mummy’s taking
me on my first ever trip to the seaside tomorrow. She
has bought me a new bucket and spade and a new outfit.
She tells me this as I’m fitted into my night time nappy
and she kisses me night-night. I cuddle my teddy and
mummy slips in my dummy.
“Night-night
sweetheart.”
I settle down to
the comfort of my cot and just as I doze off, relax as I
fill my nappy. I like the warmth as it surrounds me. I
like sucking on my dummy. I like cuddling teddy. I like
mummy and daddy. I like…
#####
After you've finished reading, you might want to return to the DailyDiapers Story Index