Sarahs bed wetting

Mom finds out

Sarah stumbled into the kitchen, her eyes half-closed and her mouth hair a wild mess. The digital clock on the microwave glowed a harsh red, taunting her with the time: 2:47 AM. She couldn't believe she was up again, not after the long day she had. Her bare feet shuffled against the cool tiles as she made her way to the fridge, the humming appliance a comforting white noise in the otherwise silent house.

Her mother's footsteps echoed from down the hallway, a soft shuffling that grew louder with each passing second. "Sarah, is everything okay?" her mom called out, the concern in her voice etched with sleepiness.

"Yeah, just getting some water," she replied, her voice low and gravelly. She didn't want to wake anyone else up, especially not her little brother who slept in the room next door. She twisted the cap off the plastic bottle and took a long gulp, the cold liquid soothing her parched throat.

Her mother appeared in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Sarah. "You've been up a lot lately. Is there something you want to talk about?" she asked gently.

Sarah froze, the bottle of water suspended in mid-air. She hadn't told anyone about her recent problem, not even her best friend. The thought of admitting it to her mom was almost too much to bear. But the question hung in the air, waiting for an answer, and she knew she couldn't keep it a secret much longer. She took a deep breath and set the water down, her hands trembling slightly. "Mom," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I've been wetting the bed."

Her mother's eyes widened, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Sarah, pulling her into a warm embrace. "It's okay, sweetie. We'll figure it out together," she murmured into her hair. But Sarah couldn't help feeling a twinge of dread, wondering what the next steps would be.