Wet

Ready for War

I awoke with a start, tangled in my sheets. My body was clammy with sweat, a different kind of moisture to what I had become accustomed to. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I struggled to control my breathing. Eventually, I calmed down (to a degree), realising where I was. The memory of my nightmare still haunted me. I was stood at the front of a classroom. It seemed as though a thousand sets of eyes were staring at me, unblinking and laser focussed. Before I even had time to react, a warmth spread around my crotch. The splashing of the urine as it trickled down my leg, appeared magnified. It reverberated around the room, accompanied by the growing whispers and unsuppressed laughter. As trembling and scared as I was, I was frozen to the spot. Moments later, another humiliation occurred. A warm, mushy mass filled the seat of my pants. More and more people crowded the room, encircling me. I was trapped. The laughter grew louder and louder. Their disgust was all I could hear; all I could feel. There was no escape.

As I came fully to, I became aware of a different sensation. My diaper was not only wet but heavily soiled. Some parts of this nightmare were already reality. How long before the rest of it came true? I was alarmed that I had soiled myself while asleep. That had never happened before. What did this mean for my daytime control? One thing was for sure, I was right about not going to school again. I felt my bedside table for my phone. Gross. My hand landed in something moist, cold and sticky. I realised it must be the toast my parents put there last night. With nothing else to hand, I wiped it off on my pyjama trousers. I sat up and switched on my bedside lamp. I squinted looking at the time on my phone, my eyes still adjusting to the brightness. Ugh. 4:59. Now I was awake, I wasn't getting back to sleep, not after the dream I just experienced. Plus, the trials and tribulations of the coming day were whirring through my mind. I knew I was going to get as much push back as I gave on going to school. Regardless, I wasn't going to give in. My mind was made up.

Yawning, but nowhere near sleep, I turned to the folded page in my book. I only had 100 pages left. I'd more than likely finish them by the time my parents came knocking. Then I'd move on to Burmese Days. I'd decided earlier in the week that I wanted to read Orwell's whole bibliography in order. Hopefully that would provide a valuable distraction in the upcoming weeks.

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Mum knocked on my door at 7:30. As predicted, I'd finished the book a few minutes prior. "Wow, you're properly awake. Good morning." She paused as she stepped into my room. "Looks like you're going to need some help cleaning up this morning." I didn't say anything, just stared down at my hands. I wasn't going to deny it like yesterday. That hadn't served me well at all. That being said, I wasn't going to acknowledge out loud either. I'd just let her do what she had to do to get it over with. In no time, I was laid down on the changing mat and she whipped my pyjama bottoms off. "You don't need to rush into school this morning. We've got a meeting with the school at eleven, so you can take your time getting ready for the day. Just be ready to leave for 10:30." I gritted my teeth. I was definitely expected to attend this meeting too. That wasn't going to happen. I was so lost in my own thoughts, I didn't even notice she'd finished cleaning me up until she offered me her hand to pull myself up with. "You're very quiet this morning. Have you got anything to say?" I took a deep breath and held it before blurting out "I'm not going to school.". She raised her eyebrows. "You are." She responded. I simply shook my head. "Go and shower. Dad and I will talk to you about it in a bit." With that, she left.

I wasn't going to shower either. That didn't seem important today. I pulled my pyjama bottoms back on and snuggled up under the covers. The only place I wanted to be today was right here. I unlocked my phone and scrolled mindlessly on Tik Tok until my peace was disrupted yet again. It was dad this time. He only knocked once before barging in. "Why haven't you been through the shower? Mum told you to have one an hour ago." I shrugged. "And what about your teeth? When was the last time you brushed them?" The answer was Saturday night. I wasn't going to admit to that, so I just shrugged again. "Let's start with that then." He gestured for me to get up, but I remained unmoved. "Ok then, if you won't go to the toothbrush, the toothbrush is coming to you." He marched out, purposefully and came back in with my toothbrush, already with a blob of toothpaste applied, and a cup for me to spit in. He held my toothbrush in front of me, but I shook my head and held my mouth firmly shut. I'd never normally be this defiant. I was generally a goody two shoes. But a mixture of apathy for my own wellbeing and resentment towards my parents had built up to create a perfect storm. Logically, I know they did not deserve the resentment. All they were trying to do was what they felt was best for me. But what they thought was best directly contradicted my deepest desires for how to deal with it. "I'll leave it with you. I expect to come back in 15 minutes to some clean teeth."