My name is Marcia Jordan
I am 2 years old
Please call my daddy Rusty if found
It then listed Rusty’s phone number and address, which left Marcia wondering if the banshee was able to affect other people with these changes or not. Suddenly nervous by the crinkle she’d heard as she fell on her butt, Marcia lifted the skirt of her dress. She swallowed anxiously at the princess-patterned diaper she now wore.
“Naughty girl,” the banshee chided. It gently smacked Marcia’s hand. “A proper young lady doesn’t lift her dress like that!” The banshee finished buckling the backpack and then picked Marcia up. “I’d let you walk, sweetie, but girls as little as you don’t walk that well. So I’ll have to carry you.”
The banshee then began to float down the hall, carrying Marcia in her arms. They passed by a mirror, in which Marcia could see her reflection. Marcia felt a spurt of pee enter her diaper in shock. She didn’t look like herself anymore. Like the tag would suggest, she looked like Rusty’s child, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and even Rusty’s distinctive hook-shaped nose.
“Listen, sweetheart, this is really in your best interest,” the banshee said. Marcia craned her neck to look up at the banshee.
“How?” she demanded. She cringed at her high-pitched, babyish voice.
“Well, since you ran off, your new daddy will realize that someone as young as you doesn’t belong in a scary place like this. And Christine will agree. Your new daddy will take you home, and the two of you will be away from the mansion during the full moon.” The banshee stroked Marcia’s hair. “You’re really a cute little girl.”
“Rusty will know it’s really me,” Marcia said. Or rather, she tried to say. Instead, what came out was, “Daddy know me.” Marcia’s eyes widened. The banshee chuckled.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t be thorough? You can’t call Rusty by his name, you have to call him by his new relation to you. And you’re going to be stuck talking like a two-year-old until you naturally grow out of it.”
“Meanie!”
“If you insist,” the banshee sighed. Suddenly, a ripple passed over the banshee’s appearance, as it took the form of a maid. They turned a corner. Marcia saw Rusty standing by a window. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Daddy!” Marcia squeaked. She scowled at her inability to call Rusty by his name. Rusty looked up. His eyes widened in horror.
“Marcia!” Rusty rushed over and took Marcia from the banshee. “You were supposed to stay in the nursery, you naughty girl!”
“I found her wandering the halls,” the banshee said. Rusty sighed.
“She’s always been too precocious for her own good. I can usually bring her on jobs with me, but clearly this one was too much for her.” Rusty kissed Marcia’s forehead. “I just hate to leave her with a babysitter!”
“Is something going on?” a voice asked. Christine appeared from around a corner.
“My daughter managed to break out of the nursery she was put in,” Rusty said. Christine sighed.
“I had a feeling. She seems like a troublemaker.”
“She is.”
“Well, then the two of you should go home. It’s not safe for a two-year-old to be wandering the halls.”
“I can come back tomorrow,” Rusty offered. Christine shook her head.
“No, I can find someone else to help. I shouldn’t have asked you to do a job this dangerous anyways. You’re a single father. You’re all your daughter has left. I’ll pay you for the time worked.”
“Thank you,” Rusty said. He lifted Marcia’s hand to make her wave at Christine. “Say goodbye to Mrs. Atwell, Marcia!” Marcia stayed resolutely silent. Rusty laughed. “Silly girl. Thank you again, Christine. Best of luck with your problem.”
Rusty then carried Marcia through the halls, stopping by a nursery to pick up a diaper bag patterned with ladybugs. As they exited the mansion, Marcia looked back. She could see the banshee standing in one of the many windows.
“All right, my little bug, time to go home,” Rusty said. He brought Marcia over to a car, opened the door, and buckled her into a car seat. Marcia continued to stare at the banshee in the window. “Aw, you like the big, scary mansion, don’t you? You take after daddy so much!” Rusty closed the door and got into the driver’s seat.
As the car started, the banshee smiled at Marcia. Marcia suddenly felt her bladder give way, flooding her diaper with urine. The car pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. Marcia looked ahead, trying to think. She couldn’t just stay like this!
Marcia’s bowels rumbled. Without warning, a hot, sticky mess emptied into the back of her diaper. The smell made her eyes water. Rusty chuckled.
“Good thing we’ll be home soon. You can’t help but fill those diapers up, huh? I guess it’s my fault. I’ve been too busy to really work on potty training with you. We’ll work on that while we use the money from this last job, okay?”
Marcia squirmed, uncomfortable to be sitting in her own excrement. There was no doubt in her mind. She refused to be a toddler just about to undergo potty training, and the daughter of her former partner no less! The only question was how she would go about fixing this.