Story:Life and Death Decisions Made Casually: Day Four

Here are the previous chapters of the story:

Day Three

Day Two

Day One

Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Day Four

Bridget took a shower after Lia left. She had a lot of work to do and she hadn’t even finished Brave New World. She would have to do that today to get the report finished. That would wait until her shower was over. She had left the diaper abandoned in the bathroom trash and concentrated on washing herself. Her skin smelled of pee, but that had become a familiar feeling to her of late. She rubbed the scented soap into her skin and felt much cleaner.

Once clean, she dressing in a clean diaper, a t-shirt, and some shorts. It was hard to get the diaper on herself, but she managed. She did not want to ask her mother to do it for her again. She got up and spun around in front of the mirror. She couldn’t even see the shape of her diaper underneath her clothes. When she walked down the stairs, it crinkled audible. She blushed. “I’m definitely wearing tight panties over these,” she said to herself.

“How did you sleep?” her mother asked. She was getting ready to cook breakfast again. “Did Lia notice your protection?”

“I slept okay. I wet again, but the diaper got it all,” said Bridget. She tossed her hair. “Lia didn’t notice it until I told her.”

“I am definitely going to make a doctor’s appointment for you,” said her mother. “This is not normal for a girl your age. You are being very cooperative about the wearing the Depends, but I would rather find out what is wrong with you.”

“Me too. I don’t want to be in diapers forever.” Bridget knew the doctor wouldn’t find anything physically wrong with her. It was probably psychological and she didn’t know what to tell the shrink. Even if she was inclined to tell the truth, the psychiatrist would think she was crazy. She needed to find that terrorist and bring him to justice. Maybe that would stop the wetting. To find him, she knew, she would need help. She just didn’t know how she would get it.

Breakfast was eaten in silence. Her father had already gone to his buddies to practice in their garage band. It was pretty cool to have a father that was a rock star, even if the only money the band made was from t-shirts and CD sales when they played for tips in bars. Her real dad worked at an insurance company. Insurance paid better than rock star; fortunately, her new dad kept his day job. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. Her real father’s death was her fault too. She still blamed herself for his heart attack. If only she had fought of the terrorist sooner she would still be able to spend time with him.

She excused herself from the table and began reading Brave New World. It was noon by the time she finished and she had to bolt upstairs when John Savage hanged himself. This book and 1984 had crappy endings. She went to the bathroom and dried her face. She felt like peeing too, so she lowered her diaper and peed like a normal girl. It sure felt good to be in control. When she finished, she pulled up her diaper and shorts and hurried into her bedroom. She had a report to write.

The paper only took a few hours to type on her Mac Book. What took so long was figuring out how to use a Mac in the first place. Once she opened Word, it was a simple task to type her report away until she lost track of time. When she finished it was three o’clock. She printed out her report and read over it to check for errors. Then she put it in her folder. Physics and Calculus were both easy compared to writing a paper. Both were just math problems. She finished each of those by five. She thought of her status after wetting in school and in front of her classmates at the movie theater. Wasting a Saturday with school work wasn’t going to hurt her social status at all.

Her mother knocked on her door and came in. “I made supper. It’s just the two of us since your father is practicing with his band.”

“Sounds good. I’m starved.” She followed her mother down stairs. The table was set already and a cooked frozen pizza was divided in between too plates. She sat down across from her mother.

“Have you been staying dry today?” her mother asked.

She blushed and nodded.

“Good,” her mother said. “I went shopping for groceries today. I also got you some more supplies.”

“Shouldn’t we wait to see what the doctor says?” she asked and took a bite of her pizza. Did her mother plan on her being in diapers forever?

“I would have, but the top of you Depends sticks out the back of your shorts. I got you some pull-up style protection. It should be easier to manage during the day.”

She quickly slapped her hand above the top back of her shorts and felt plastic. She could feel her skin heat up with embarrassment. If she had gone to schooled dressed as she was, then she might have been really humiliated. She imagined the cries of “Diaper baby, diaper baby,” of the other students and almost shivered at the thought. “I’ll change into one and test it out,” she said.

“Finish your dinner first,” her mother said.

Bridget sat down and fidgeted until she had eaten. As soon as the meal was over, she grabbed what was obviously incontinence products from one of the grocery bags her mother had brought home and took it upstairs. She peeled the bag open and pulled out one of the pull-ups. It looked like a thick pair of granny panties. She sighed and pulled off her diaper and pulled on her new disposable underpants. They were thick and itchy, but at least they didn’t peek out of the top or legs of her shorts. She checked it sitting and standing. She even bent over at the waist in front of her mirror. That showed the diaper from the leg holes in her shorts, so she decided not to do that.

Satisfied, she decided to go to the mall. The little diary said it was Lia’s birthday on Monday. Bridget knew she had to get her something. Lia was excited about going to University of Idaho next fall, so she thought she would get her something with the Vandals mascot on it. She would like that.

She walked down stairs. “Mother, I finished my homework. Will you please take me to the mall?”

Her mother sat on the couch with a laptop on her lap and a pen in her mouth. She typed away for a minute and before she answered her. She fished car keys out of her pocket and handed them to Bridget. “You can drive. Just do it safely and make sure you have your license with you. I only want you to drive to the mall and back. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” She was surprised. She hadn’t realized that Angela even had a license. She checked her purse and found it. She also packed a spare pull-up and headed to out to the car.

“Hurry back,” her mother called to her, “you got to reply to one of your acceptance letters. You are running out of time.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Bridget. “I’ll do it when I get back.” She was surprised Angela hadn’t done that yet.

Bridget hadn’t driven since that fateful day twelve years ago when she was hijacked in her tank truck. She sat in the driver’s seat, started the car, and backed out of the driveway. She breathed out with relief; she still remembered how to drive: one of those things she could never forget.

The trip to the mall was short. She got out of the car and walked in to the usual pre-summer Saturday crowd. If she remembered, there was a sporting goods store nearby. She walked through the mall until she got to where it was. Instead of a sporting goods store, she found Pottery Barn. She walked right by. There had to be a place to buy Lia a Vandals t-shirt in the mall. Half the people in the mall either wore Bengals or Vandals shirts. This was Idaho after all. She continued walking until she found a store called SporTees.

The store was devoted mainly to Vandals and Bengals t-shirts, but it also had NFL, NHL, and baseball tees. She went to the Vandals section and looked around. There were traditional t-shirts, babydoll t-shirts, and muscle shirts. Lia was a little chubby, so she decided to get a traditional t-shirt instead of a babydoll shirt. Unfortunately, the shirt she wanted for Lia was on the top rack. She had to step on her tippy toes to reach it and even then it was hard to get a hold of. In hindsight she probably should have asked for help, but instead she stretched to reach it. She had it in her hand when she fell backward into something soft and landed on her padded butt.

“Are you all right?” asked the girl she landed on. The girl got up and reached down to help Bridget. She was the girl in the Go Veg shirt from the night before. Today she wore a PETA shirt. It actually said the real slogan instead of what she was used to: “People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.” She was so surprised she wet her pull-up a bit.

“I’m fine,” she said. She wanted to grab the girl by the neck and force her to tell her where the terrorist who had ran her truck into the middle school. She wanted to waterboard her, but she had no idea how to go about the practice. She knew it involved water.

“They put the shirts up too high,” said the vegetarian girl. To Bridget, she looked almost sickly. Her skin had an unhealthy paler and Bridget thought she could see the outline of girl’s bones through her skin. “I want that Washington state Cougars shirt.” She pointed at a babydoll shirt on the top shelf. “I’m going to be a freshman there in the fall. I live in Seattle. My uncle came here to meet someone and took me along so I could see the University. It is so much cheaper here than at the campus store.”

Bridget was dying to press for more information. She didn’t dare spook the girl. “I still have to choose. I just can’t decide yet. I got acceptance letters from places,” she said. “My best friend is going to Moscow for college. I am getting her this shirt.” She held up the shirt she had literally fallen for.

“My name’s Flower,” she said. “My parents were hippies.”

“Br–Angela.” She started to say Bridget, but remembered at the last minute.

“Brangela is a funny name.” Her face turned red as Bridget guessed she realized she said something rude. “Not as funny as Flower.”

“My name is Angela. My friends call me Brangela because my boyfriend’s name is Brandon.” She showed her a picture of Evan Fiscus.

“Wow, I bet you are going to the school he goes to. I wouldn’t let him go off alone, Brangela”

“Just Angela now. He left me for the easy girl at my high school.” Bridget didn’t mind slandering Evan Fiscus at all. It actually felt good. It almost felt too good. She was beginning to like Flower and that couldn’t happen. She still wanted to get revenge against the terrorist and all his friends.

“Well, it was nice meeting you.” She pointed to the terrorist who had walked into the store. “My uncle is here. I got to go.” Flower turned and walked to the cash register, paid for her shirt, and left.

The pee started filling up Bridget’s pull-up. She was afraid it would leak, so she tried hard to stop peeing. She felt drops of pee at the legs of her pull-up. She hung up Lia’s shirt and walked quickly out of the store to the bathroom. Tears welled up in her eyes. The diaper would have held until she got to the bathroom, she thought. The pull-up was going to leak; she knew it.

She hurried in the lady’s room and grabbed a stall. She pulled down her shorts and the pull-up and let the rest of her bladder out in the toilet and cried.

She pulled off her shorts completely to survey the damage. There was a tiny wet spot on the inseam of her shorts, but it was hardly anything to worry about. It wasn’t even noticeable. She put on her spare pull-up and her shorts. It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it wouldn’t be embarrassing to walk around the mall or even return to SporTees. She bought the shirt for Lia and returned home.

Her mother intercepted her as soon as she got home and handed her a stack of papers. “You got to confirm your acceptance with one college or another by next Friday. That means you need to mail it out Monday morning. I don’t care which school you pick.”

“Alright.” Bridget spread the mess on the kitchen table and spent some time sorting it. She had scholarships to both Idaho schools and the University of Washington. She also had an acceptance letter to MIT, but she wouldn’t be given scholarship money and out of state tuition there was expensive. She picked the University of Washington. Not only did it have a Electronics Engineering major, but it was where the vegetarian girl Flower lived. Maybe she could use Flower to get to her uncle the terrorist and–she still needed to think through the and part.

Bridget was a sophomore when she dropped out of college because she ran out of money. This time she would finish. She filled out the forms she needed and put them in an envelope. She wrote thank you notes to the rest of the schools and got the envelopes ready.

“Did you decide, Angela,” her mother asked.

“Yes,” she said. “University of Washington.”

“That’s a good school too. At least it’s not too far away. You can come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Her mother looked disappointed that she didn’t pick something closer. Bridget realized that Angela was Mrs. Murphy’s youngest child–the baby of her family. She felt bad for Angela’s mother, but she had to leave Idaho and go to Washington to solve her problems. It would be the only way to get closure and end her wetting problem.

She handed her new mother the envelopes and scooped the rest of her paperwork mess and took it up stairs. She went to bed feeling complete. Even thought she knew she would wake up dry, she put on a diaper before going to bed. The accident in the mall did not count. The pull-up hid it from everyone in view and she only had accidents during the day when she saw the terrorist.

She fell asleep and began to dream. The tanker truck crashed into the school in her sleep again. The terrorist was more vivid and real than ever. She saw everything about him: his eyes, his face, his rough hands, the barrel of his gun, and she felt the heat of the fire before she woke up screaming. She was safe in her room. Light drifted in from her curtains. She felt the dry bed and smiled. She was dry, but she remembered her diaper and felt inside. She had wet the bed again.

Bridget sighed. “Not again, it was supposed to stop when I had a plan.” She supposed she would have to bring down the terrorist to have any peace at all.

Story:Life and Death Decisions Made Casually: Day Four

This has been an interesting story. I have enjoyed seeing what’s going to happen next, right up until the last paragraph of this chapter.

It’s not that I have a problem with what happened, but the way it happened. There was absolutely no lead in, no explanation, in fact, no rational reason at all how a person that saw this as a serious problem would just suddenly decide it’s okay.

Everything up to this point has been coherent, clear and plausible. It seems to me that you either ran out of things to say in this chapter and were groping for a way to close it, or you ran out of patience and tacked the last paragraph on.

You write well, you have taken the time to address a myriad of details that a lot of other folks writing on this board don’t, but here, you take a shortcut. Please tell me why.

BB

Story:Life and Death Decisions Made Casually: Day Four

BabyButt, you are right. I changed the last paragraph to one that fit the character and to what the paragraph should have said anyway. Probably shouldn’t have edited after posting, but I discovered where I wanted the story to go after I posted this. I posted the last paragraph because I was lazy and took the easy way out.

I don’t plan on editing after post again, so sorry for anyone I confused by doing this.