Bleary eyes, I squinted. Staring. My eyes wouldn't focus, the light was too bright. Panicking, I reached for my eyes. This didn't quite work out how I wanted it. My arms, legs, fingers, everything was a complete mess of unresponsiveness. They were still moving, just not particularly in any direction I personally wanted them to go...

I just started to comprehend that I was moving.

Still fidgeting, I suddenly began to gently rock. Becoming even more confused I started to move more erratically. Instantly I began to hear a murmuring responding to my movement. A very calm murmuring. Ignoring it, I continued to fidget. The movement caused me to rapidly heat up. Tiredness and fatigue soon took over very fast. I was quickly swept into a deep sleep, calm and refreshing, I slept.

__________________________

Again, I squinted, my eyes opening up. I felt completely refreshed from my coma like sleep. Slowly I adjusted to the bright light. The time for panicking has passed. I'm still having problems with my movement, all the same fatigue. I hope to God I'm recovering.

I decided on just attempting to move my head today, to just get a look of where I actually am. I looked around with my limited ability of head movement, a sort movement which would be the exact opposite of an owl. Awkward jerkiness. I was surrounded by some sort of cage, possibly a prison.

Please tell me I Haven't been kidnapped. Who fucking kidnaps someone who's paralysed? Oh no, don't tell me the've raped me! I know people have some weird fetishes; I just wanted to stay anally virgin my entire life, thank you. I would have screamed to the top of the roofs, if there was someone to listen.

Oak coloured horizontal bars encircled me. They were set every ten cm, allowing only a hand through, but there were no bars across the top. It was as if they were taunting me. As if they knew it would either be impossible or improbable to even attempt in my current state.

The walls were painted a pale blue. Hanging from the white washed roof above were several mismatched objects hanging by some sort of string. They hung in reaching distance. Looking at them I could see that they could be useful to help pull myself out of there. Well, as long as they can take my weight, but this idea wasn't likely come to an fruition any time soon in my current capacity. What sort of monster dangles escape in front of you?

With the little I had I came to the conclusion that screaming for help would be the best plan of action. Sure screaming might alert the captors, but they would expect these things. Why else would they leave me clothes and a blanket, as if to show that they have some level of care. I then began to wail for help. "Waaaaaaaah!"

After attempting to scream for help, I realised my failure. My dry lips felt stiff and my tongue was like a piece rubber in my mouth, moving in only wild directions. It felt almost numb and insensitive or quite possibly the opposite.

The groaning of floorboards alerted me to an incoming visitor. Footsteps soon followed, hoping that it wasn't my captors, I continued to moan. A door handle began to creak and groan as it was opened. Into the room comes a woman.

She was huge.

By huge I don't mean fat, she was a giantess or whatever you call a female giant. I must barely reach her shins even if I were to go onto my tiptoes. She walked up to my cage. Staring down onto me with an almost too intensive smile. She reached in, picking me up until I reached her nape and started holding me against her chest.

Then the rocking began, swaying side to side. Surprisingly it was actually quite calming. I stared into her eyes to try to discern what she was doing. She then started to remove her shirt from the shirts collar, with her thumb and index finger she pinched the shirt and dragged it down releasing her right breast. It all dawned on me in that single moment. Time could have frozen.

Everything clicked together, except the reason why. Why has this happened, this event is inconceivable.

I was now a baby.

I began to connect the dots. Looking back at what had led up to this. My cage was not a prison or anything of such nature, it's a crib. A baby's bed. The wooden bars are protecting me from falling, not my entrapment. My possible escape from the purported cage was actually only a baby mobile, meant to entertain my supposed young child-like mind. But my supposed mind is clearly not at such early stage. It may have taken me a while to realise, but in actuality I'm probably the smartest baby alive or even ever.

I have memories of my entire life, of course I can't remember each individual one but I have a huge boost over all the competition of my age.

My paralysis! Of course, I'm not actually paralysed. My body is still developing, trying it's hardest to catch up to my overdeveloped brain. Or it could even be possible that such things as the soul do exist and my brain might as well be mush.

Coming back to my surroundings, I realised I had suckled on my 'mothers' tit… It actually tasted quite nice. Sweeter than even full fat cows milk. I tilted my head up to look at her reaction. I began to take notice of her facial features. Strong, almost royal high cheek bones. Wavy dark hair cascaded across her shoulders and covered just half of her right eye. Her eyes were a mix of grey and blue. It gave an almost lamp like effect, emphasising the eyes effect to bring attention to her face.

I attempted to extend out my arm and reach up to touch her face. At each joint was a battle, my undeveloped muscles ached at every turn. My stubby arm battle was long and fought hard, but it finally progressed into my victory. My wavering hand finally reached her face, knowing I only had a short amount of time till my arm would feel too heavy, as fast as I could I tried to touch her her, accidentally tapping her with my weak hand. With the tiniest of touches I could feel the smoothness of her skin, It was almost too tantalizing to touch. Her smile became larger and began to laugh at my mesmerised look.

Sleep ever tempting, as the fatigue caught up after my draining battle. My mothers loving hug gave me a sublime feel of protection and care, something I had always lacked. Sleep quickly faded over.

__________________________

There was so much to plan, so much to do. This was my chance to right all the wrongs in my previous life. Thinking about all the great things I could do, be or even see, I realised I didn't know anything about where I was, who I was and possibly what year it is. If reincarnation is possible what is to say that time travel isn't.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

What to do first… Such an agonising question, so much to think about. It almost feels impossible to truly answer. luckily I should have time on my side. A whole lifetime to be exact.

The first thing to do when beginning anything is to gather basic intelligence. For this I need to find myself a source for information. For example my first source would be my mother, but the problem with this is that I can't just straight out and ask her things. Never mind the fact that it would be crazy for a whatever month old baby I am to do so.

My next source would be books and of course the internet. I'll passively get information from my mum. Just listening in to her conversations should be enough, for now atleast.

Thinking about it, I don't even know my actual name. I doubt it will be what it was in my old life. I'll finally be able to shed the skin and be reborn a new man. (or baby)

Three days later -Probably

I finally found out my name today. A name for a new person. For a person better than I ever was. My name is Felix Edward White. I found this out as my mum smothered me with kisses and told me how lucky it was for me to even have been born. My mum usually calls me her 'little miracle' Never stating why and leaving me hungry for any sort of knowledge (especially my name). Her usually conversations with me are usually nothing more than sweet nothings.

But in the middle of the night my mother came into my room, to my little cot with dry marks of tears. She stared at me lovingly into the eyes. Thinking about it, I'm still not sure what colour my eyes are, " I thought you were just a dream". I smiled at her encouragingly.

"Before you were born mummy had lots of trouble with making babies like you Felix. As a person in no relationship, people looked down upon me, for wanting my little 'miracle'. Every attempt at becoming pregnant either lead to failure of even conception, or a stillborn. You were my last chance." Tears now began rolling down from her beautiful eyes, dripping onto my little pyjamas with rocket ships and stars, and slightly onto my face.

"After each attempt I slowly began losing any hope of ever having a child. But then you changed all of that." Her face flushed with pride. "You were my miracle child. Born three months premature. Too early for any healthy baby. You were in such a serious condition, that you had to be held in intensive care. You were an unhealthy baby. Your immune system was almost non-existent and your organs couldn't keep up. I thought that you were going to be another..."

"The doctors gave you a 10% chance of survival. The doctors must have thought they would be right. Your heart stopped for just over 30 seconds, but of course my miracle baby would not stand for this. Miraculous your heart began again and all your ailments just seemed to disappear at once. The doctors were astounded. Doctors around the world flocked to see my 'Miracle' baby."

“I knew in instant what your name should be. Felix, the god of luck shined down upon us in the day you were born. Giving me the chance to ever have you and you  the chance survive.”

I was truly beginning to care for my mother. I was not ready for such an event. My heart beated in response to her story.

The cogs in my head began to whirl. I began to realise something very important, important for me, but especially important for her. Her 'Felix' probably did die. The chances of the heart stopping and then beginning by itself is slim. Never-mind the fact that this is a baby we're talking about. That baby died and my soul or psyche or whatever it is, must have either snuffed him out or just resuscitated the body. This could be the key to finding out what happened to me, or at least a starting point.

The emotional consequences began to dawn on me. Does that make me a murderer? Or was his death before my beginning or should I say new beginning/continuing. Have are souls joined? Or even more unlikely am I some sort of zombie?

Well I'm breathing, hopefully that discounts the zombie approach (and all my other bodily functions, hopefully). Do I owe it to her for what I may have caused. Since I'm here and have already decided to live again for myself, there's no harm giving the love, her son would have given her. It sure beats any relationship I had with my family.

Has my 'soul' already been tarnished before it even began.

__________________________

-A few months later-

I had begun relearning how to speak. I may not be able to use the skill yet. Usually people usually get quite freaked out when a baby begins to talk better English than themselves. My mouth and tongue control has improved two-fold. It may sound like I have a lisp at the moment but when you remember I'm baby it's not too shabby. My murmuring days are long gone. hmm. It might be nice to surprise dear mother with a little 'mummy' babbling.

Obviously I still can't tell anyone I can speak.

My body control in general was still horrendous. It's time to relearn some basic functions, now that I've actually started to develop some actually decent muscles. Walking is perhaps the best start. NO. What am I thinking about, I'm finally not paralysed and I decided that walking is better than being able to do than being able to shit and piss anywhere I'd like. (yes this statement may seem wrong, but I want some of my basic pride back)  

I've had enough of nappies. Crawling in my own poop and urine and hearing the squelching, Is nearly as bad as my life in the hospital. I'm not some animal. No wonder we don't keep our baby memories. We probably choose to forget them.

Or maybe it's some natural instinct from some by gone days of genetic code that was once needed for survival

Let's see, how to get my mum to either get a potty or leave that damn toilet door open. Stupid door handles. Why do they have to be so high? Would it weird if I constantly kept doing it in the same corner every time?

Crawling along the cream carpet and trying hard not to burn the skin off my knees and shins I ended up into the far right corner of my room. I chose this spot because it's away from the door, the chest of drawers and the window.

Time to get busy.