The Hallway of the New Reality

"This has to be a joke, it's not possible," Sarah muttered to herself, locking the bathroom door with a dull thud.

Leaning against the sink, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror for long seconds, searching for any sign that she was dreaming. Nothing. She looked down. The diaper was still there, thick and undeniable. Fortunately, it was completely dry. With a sharp, angry tug, Sarah ripped off the side adhesive tapes. The loud, tearing sound of plastic echoed against the tiles. She crumpled the padded material in disgust and shoved it forcefully into the trash can.

Since her wardrobe had been mysteriously cleared of any normal underwear, she grabbed the sweatpants she had brought from the room and pulled them on directly over her bare skin. The loose fabric rubbing against her unprotected skin felt strange, but at least she felt in control of herself again.

She unlocked the door forcefully, ready to confront Bianca and demand an end to the little act. But, upon stepping into the room, she froze.

Bianca was standing near the window, finishing buttoning up a university shirt. The lower half of her outfit, however, defied all logic. Bianca was wearing an extremely short pleated school skirt—so short that it made zero effort to hide the diaper underneath. The bulky, white plastic was completely exposed, integrated into the look as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"All done!" Bianca said, tossing her backpack over her shoulders. The plastic crinkled loudly as she bent over to grab her notebook from the desk. "Let's go, Sarah, or we're going to be late for Econ class, and you know the professor locks the door. And why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"

"I... nothing. Let's go," Sarah stammered, her heart beating fast in her chest.

She followed her friend. Sarah mentally prepared herself for what was coming next. Surely, as soon as they stepped into the hallway, someone would laugh at Bianca. The joke would fall apart right then and there.

Bianca turned the knob and opened the dorm door. The two stepped out into the long, bustling hallway of the girls' dormitory.

And then, Sarah had the biggest shock of her life.

The hallway was packed with students getting ready for their first class of the day. There were girls chatting near the water fountains and others organizing their backpacks. And all the students were wearing diapers.

The white noise of dozens upon dozens of thick plastics crinkling, rubbing, and rustling in unison with every step was deafening. Some girls were wearing skirts like Bianca's, putting the padding on display without the slightest hint of modesty. Others wore sweatpants designed with a much lower drop-crotch to accommodate the unnatural bulk.

But what made Sarah's brain short-circuit was who was coming from the opposite direction.

The hall monitor, Mrs. Marta, was walking with her clipboard in hand. She wore black tailored dress pants with a perfect fit. Unlike all the girls around her, the staff member had no bulk under her clothes. She was wearing normal panties. She was an adult dressed like an adult.

"Good morning, girls! Hurry up and get to class!" Mrs. Marta said in an authoritative tone, walking past them without giving a single care to the sea of exposed white diapers down the hallway.

"Good morning, Mrs. Marta!" Bianca replied cheerfully, before pulling Sarah by the arm. "Come on, Sarah! Econ is on the other side of campus!"

Sarah took a step back, gasping. The shock hit her like a punch to the stomach.

There were no cameras. It wasn't a frat prank. And, most bizarre of all: it wasn't a collective madness without rules. There was a clear hierarchy. The students were forced to wear diapers, while the campus staff walked around freely in their normal underwear.

The world had changed right under her nose, following a set of absurd rules that seemed to have become unquestionable laws. And, standing there, not wearing the damn mandated diaper, Sarah felt a pit in her stomach: what would happen if they found out she was breaking the rule?