Sam's Crawl To Adulthood

Chapter Description: Despite her struggles, Sam is going to elementary school as Isabelle seeks to speed up her recovery from the regression. Is Sam ready? --- Commissioned by: diaperboy187

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“I’m not ready… I’m not ready…” Sam repeated as she walked alongside Issy.

“You’ll be fine.” Isabelle replied shortly.

Sam had been fretting over this for the last week. She was rather embarrassed to admit that she had been so anxious that she had tried to “prove” she wasn’t ready for elementary school. She’d started having tantrums and acting childishly, her want to be grown up hidden behind her fear. Isabelle had put up with it for two days before she had sat down with Sam for a heart-to-heart.

“I’m… scared.” Sam told Isabelle as she looked at her lap and kicked her feet anxiously.

“Of what?” Isabelle had asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

“Being with the bigger kids.” Sam replied, “I still need my diapers and I don’t know anything… I’m stupid.”

For a few seconds it didn’t seem like Isabelle had anything to say about that. The room was silent apart from the ticking of the clock. Sam started feeling awkward, like she shouldn’t have admitted her fears and instead continued playing up so she could stay in the pre-school for longer. Sam had to admit her speech had gotten a lot better. Regardless of how ready she was to make the step up the work she had been doing on her speech was paying dividends.

“Sam…” Isabelle finally started, “You are stronger and smarter than you give yourself credit for. I know that you want this and I know you aren’t going to let fear hold you back. It may seem scary now but I promise it’ll be good for you. I wouldn’t be asking you to do it if I didn’t think you could.”

It had been a very uncharacteristic thing for Isabelle to say which, perhaps, made it even more impactful. After that Sam had tried a little harder and, to her surprise, she actually made some progress with her potty training. Despite still wetting her diapers at the drop of a hat she had managed to make it to the bathroom when she needed to poop increasingly often. She didn’t have a perfect record on that front but by the time the first day of elementary school rolled around she was making it more often than not which had given her a tremendous morale boost. It had left her feeling like maybe she really was getting better.

Of course it was still tremendously humiliating for Sam to have to waddle to Issy and exclaim that she needed the potty. She was still red in the face as she was sat on the training potty or, occasionally, on the actual toilet with her diaper pulled down but when she heard the splashes that signified she was successful she couldn’t help beaming with pride. Even Isabelle, who so rarely seemed to show Sam unqualified positive emotions, smiled and praised her.

Now, after a one week potty training boot camp with questionable results, Sam was waddling along the path towards “big girl school” and she was very nervous. Dressed in a skirt that went a little past her knees and a white and pink hooped shirt it was one of Sam’s most grown up outfits, though that wasn’t saying much. As they got closer to the school Sam started seeing other students, she unconsciously started gripping Isabelle’s hand even tighter.

Sam could see that the other kid were all bigger than her and she worried as she saw how boisterous and physical they could be. The boys in particular seemed to love playing in a rough and tumble way. She felt so small and weak that she would break if any of them bumped into her. She kept trying to tell herself that she had survived elementary school before but she didn’t have many memories from that time.

“Your teacher knows of your… situation.” Isabelle said. She seemed not to have noticed Sam’s worry, “So you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

It wasn’t the teachers that Sam was worried about. She noticed a lot of the kids that were walking past would turn to stare at her. It was like they could sense there was something different about Sam, whether it was Sam’s crinkly underwear or the fact she was actually in her early twenties she didn’t know.

The school loomed ahead. Sam whimpered and her diaper warmed around her waist. She didn’t feel like it would be a good time to tell Isabelle about her latest potty training failure. As they approached Sam heard a bell go off and the remaining students outside all scurried in. The hustle and bustle as they went through the main doors scared her, it felt so much more hectic than the sedate pace of the pre-schools she was used to.

Isabelle lead Sam down a corridor lined with lockers. Most of the students were now in the classrooms and the few remaining were running to get to their class before they got in trouble. Sam was practically trembling and despite wanting to run home she felt a deep worry that she was late and would get in trouble.

“Ah, this is the one.” Isabelle said as she looked through a window in one of the doors.

Sam bit her lip and let out a little whine. She could hear a female teacher inside talking to the students. Isabelle knelt down in front of her.

“This is a third grade class.” Isabelle said, “The boys and girls are going to be around eight-years-old.”

Sam whimpered. She looked down at her fingers but couldn’t count up that far. Isabelle folded up two of her fingers and left the remaining out. Sam’s eyes went wide, that was so much older than the kids in the pre-school. She really didn’t know how she could keep up when she couldn’t count or read very well at all.

“I wanna go home!” Sam’s eyes watered up, “I wanna go home now!”

“Sam, you know that isn’t an option.” Isabelle replied rather sternly, “I’m sure the kids are going to be great and you’re going to make lots of friends.”

Sam disagreed. She thought the most likely outcome of everything was that she would be picked on. She looked down, her skirt seemed to hide her diaper but if anyone found out what she was wearing she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it.

Before Sam could say anything more Isabelle was knocking on the door. Sam hurried to hide behind the tall woman’s legs, an automatic and childish reaction. One of the many problems with her slow recovery from regression was the infantile actions that still felt like second nature to her.

There was a pause before the door opened and a young woman stepped out. She was as tall as Isabelle but had much friendlier demeanour. The difference between the woman who had never wanted a kid and the teacher working with them every weekday couldn’t have been starker. She was a little plumper than Sam’s caretaker and her brown hair stopped above her shoulders, swept back by an Alice band.

“Issy! It’s been too long!” The teacher said with obvious joy. She didn’t seem to mind that her lesson had been interrupted.

“It has.” Isabelle replied a little stiffly.

“And this must be little Sam!” The teacher continued as she looked down at the small woman peeking around Isabelle’s legs.

Sam quickly hid again. She felt embarrassed that she was acting in such a way but couldn’t stop herself. She was anxious and the only answer she had for that anxiety was to hide. She heard the teacher chuckle.

“Do you remember everything I told you, Claire?” Isabelle asked her old friend, “Sam requires very… specialist care. She isn’t like most of your students she…”

“I know.” Claire replied, “When you told me all about Sam… Well, it’s not a story you soon forget.”

“Alright, thank you again for doing this.” Isabelle replied.

Sam was dislodged from her hiding place as Isabelle crouched down and turned to face her. There seemed to be a degree of anxiety in the carer’s eyes as well, or maybe Sam was just seeing her own expression reflected back at her.

“Be good, OK?” Isabelle said, “If you need anything ask Miss. Hunt.”

Sam didn’t reply. She was still battling the tears that were threatening to spring forth. As much as her feelings for Isabelle were mixed at least she was a known quantity. Isabelle stood up without another word and marched away down the corridor leaving Sam with this new woman. Inside the classroom there were children Sam had never met, boisterous and loud children that scared her with their energy.

“It’s OK.” Miss. Hunt said. She must’ve clearly recognised that trembling lip as a young girl on the verge of crying, “You’re going to love everyone once you get to know us. I know the troubles you’ve been through and I know about your… special requirements. If you need anything you can just let me know, alright?”

Sam nodded her head but was looking back towards Isabelle just as the woman disappeared around the corner. Issy didn’t once look back at Sam. As the distance between them grew Sam felt her anxiety increase.

Sam’s hand was taken and Miss. Hunt pulled her towards the door. When it opened Sam was taken inside and she saw the classroom for the first time. She tensed up and held her breath as she was stood in front of the class with the teacher by her side, one hand down on her shoulder. She looked around with wide eyes and saw every kid in the room looking right back at her. She gulped nervously and pulled down on her shirt to make sure her underwear’s waistband was covered.

“We have a new student joining us.” Miss. Hunt said as she looked around the room, “Everyone please welcome Sam Friedrich.”

Friedrich wasn’t Sam’s last name. It was, however, Isabelle’s and Sam wondered if the school had been told the two of them were related. Her attention quickly came back to the classroom as she nervously scanned around. No one was saying anything. The children didn’t look particularly unfriendly but they also weren’t welcoming their new peer with open arms. Sam clutched the straps of her pink princess backpack. The silence seemed to stretch on and on.

“Sam, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Miss. Hunt prompted with a friendly smile.

Sam gulped and her eyes went wide. She looked up at the teacher and quickly shook her head. Sam had no idea what she was supposed to say about herself. She couldn’t well announce that she was actually a college student who had been forcibly regressed and was now struggling with the very basic things children learnt when very young.

“How come she’s so small?” A boy shouted out. A couple of students laughed.

“That’s very rude, Andy.” Miss. Hunt said with a stern look, “Apologise.”

“Sorry…” Andy said. Sam could practically hear the boy rolling his eyes.

Sam was having flashbacks to when she was at school the first time round. The questions about her size had been ubiquitous back then as well. It made her stomach churn even more as she worried about whether or not the rest of the experiences would line up, particularly the bullying.

“OK, Sam, why don’t you take your seat.” Miss. Hunt smiled down at Sam again, “There’s one free in the third row.”

Sam slowly started walking through the rows of desks. She could still feel the faces of students following her as she went. Her diaper had never felt thicker or louder than right then and as she walked past the children she wondered if anyone could hear or see anything unusual. She didn’t think she was waddling but perhaps after doing it for so long she simply didn’t notice it anymore.

The free desk was right where Miss. Hunt had said it would be. Sam took off her bag and had to awkwardly climb up on to the seat. She hoped she hadn’t flashed her diaper to anyone, it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed anything unusual at least. She pulled out some pens and paper and then put her bag underneath her seat. Her heart was hammering as she tried to calm herself down.

Sam had been so worried about the other children she had basically forgotten to be anxious about the work she would have to do. As Miss. Hunt started the lesson Sam quickly started to feel like she was out of her depth which in turn made her frustrated. Worksheets were handed out and when Sam looked down at the paper she felt lost. She saw the squiggles and knew they were supposed to be numbers and letters but it felt like a foreign language to her.

The students around Sam picked up their pencils and started answering the questions whilst Sam looked around nervously. Whether due to her anxiety or not Sam’s bladder released and she flooded the front of her padding with fresh warmth. She had really hoped, though not expected, that she might not need her diaper changed at school. At the rate she was going she would be lucky if her diaper lasted until lunch time.

As panic and frustration fought within Sam she decided she had to do something on the paper. She picked up her pencil and haphazardly tried to copy random symbols in the places that seemed to want answers. She was completely guessing, she had no idea what the questions were asking her to do. Tears were threatening to spring from her eyes as she became completely overwhelmed. She knew she wasn’t ready for this!

Added to the anxiety was the pure frustration of knowing this was all supposed to be beneath her. It was supposed to be easy. She was in her twenties and looking at a worksheet for third grade children and yet it might as well have been the most complex astrophysics calculations imaginable for all she could work out.

When Miss. Hunt collected the sheets she looked at Sam’s and frowned. With a face going bright red Sam’s bottom lip trembled and she begged herself to get some composure, to not start crying like a big baby.

The rest of the morning continued in a similar way. Miss. Hunt taught using the blackboard and Sam struggled to understand the very basics. When the bell rang for recess there was a lot of excited scraping of chairs as the children eagerly got up to go play. Sam was slower to leave and before she had got out the door Miss. Hunt had called her over.

“Sam…” Miss. Hunt started. Before she could get another word out Sam broke down.

“I can’t do it!” Sam exclaimed as tears finally started flowing down her face, “Issy said I could but I can’t! I don’t know anything anymore! I’m stupid!”

Sam ranted and raved in front of the teacher who looked somewhat taken aback by the sudden outburst. She vented all of her anxieties about that morning and not understanding any of the work. By the time she was finished she was sobbing lightly.

“You don’t know your numbers and letters?” Miss. Hunt asked with obvious surprise.

Sam shook her head. The triggers in Sam’s mind and all the time with Jess had taken away so much of her knowledge. It was like her former “Mommy” had yanked out the building blocks of Sam’s education and everything else had collapsed. Trying to build it up was such a daunting task and her slow progress was making Sam worried and angry that it might never come back.

“I see.” Miss. Hunt sat back in her seat and smiled, “Well, that’s not a problem.”

Sam rubbed her eyes and looked up at the teacher who seemed completely unconcerned by Sam’s worries. She didn’t know whether to he hopeful or annoyed that Miss. Hunt saw her problems as not being a problem when it felt like a huge brick wall for Sam.

“It’s ithn’t?” Sam asked with a frown. She hated how pronounced her childish lisp became when she was upset.

“I’ll speak with your mo-…” Miss. Hunt hesitated for a second, “I’ll speak with Isabelle. Maybe you can stay for an hour after school and we’ll work on some things one-on-one.”

“R-Really?” Sam sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Sure.” Miss. Hunt smiled, “We’ll have you up to speed in no time. For the meantime though, you don’t want to miss out on recess!”

Sam nodded her head and turned away from the teacher. She walked over to the door and reached above her head to turn the handle. As the door swung open to reveal the mostly empty hallways Sam paused and turned to face Miss. Hunt as the teacher sorted through some papers on her desk.

“Thank you.” Sam said quickly.

Before Miss. Hunt could say anything in response Sam had waddled hurriedly away with her cheeks blushing. She didn’t stop until she reached a large door behind which was a lot of noise, the sounds of children running, shouting and playing were muffled until Sam pushed it open with a little difficulty.

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