Marcia had reached her limit. She was a year old, suckling on a pacifier and sitting in a filled diaper. Sure, she wanted to figure out what was going on, and more importantly, how to fix it, but she couldn’t do that in this state. At the very least, she wanted a clean diaper. Her current one was mushy, smelly, and rapidly growing clammy.
“Gah,” Marcia mumbled around her pacifier. She got to her feet clumsily and began to walk away from the banshee. After only a few steps, however, she fell to her feet, unable to walk long distances at only a year old.
“Hmm, I see the problem,” the banshee murmured. She picked Marcia up. “Since you’ve finally had some sense, I’ll help you out. Specifically, I’ll help you get out of here. Hopefully, that will help some others leave as well.”
The banshee carried Marcia through the halls, searching for someone or something, Marcia wasn’t sure. She was particularly confused when the banshee came across a few staff members, only to avoid them. Wasn’t the banshee trying to find someone to pass Marcia off to?
“Ah, here we are,” the banshee said quietly. They had arrived in a hallway. At the end, Rusty was looking at something on his phone. The banshee set Marcia down, then whispered, “This is for your own good.” She then removed Marcia’s pacifier and flung it a few feet away. Her only source of comfort ripped away, Marcia began to wail at the top of her lungs. The banshee disappeared through a wall.
“Wh- a kid?” Rusty ran over to Marcia. “Okay, Rus, first things first. Calm her down.” Rusty looked around, spotted Marcia’s pacifier, and popped it into her mouth. Marcia immediately began to calm, though tears continued to stream down her face. Rusty frowned at the name tag on the front of Marcia’s onesie. “Marcia Caldwell, one year old, mother is Jennifer Caldwell…oh!”
Marcia perked up, hopeful that Rusty had managed to recognize her.
“You’re my neighbor’s kid!” Rusty said. Marcia’s heart sunk. Rusty picked her up. “What are you doing here?” His nose wrinkled. “In a full diaper, no less.”
“Ga ba gah,” Marcia babbled around her pacifier. Rusty chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t be able to tell me what happened. Well, I think I need to get you out of this dirty diaper before you get a rash. Good thing I babysit you all the time, so I know how to do it. I think I saw an old nursery around here somewhere, maybe it’ll have some diapers in it…”
Rusty began to walk the halls, bouncing Marcia in his arms to keep her calm. Marcia’s mind was racing. The banshee really had altered reality somehow. Somehow, Marcia wasn’t just a one-year-old, she was supposed to be a one-year-old! And to top it off, her coworker was now her babysitter!
As Marcia was carried through the halls, she caught sight of Rusty’s bag of supplies. It was within reach, but should she try to grab something now? Or wait for another opportunity?