A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS
“I’m not wearing this damn thing!” Reila swore under her breath as she pulled her cobalt jeggings back up. She wiggled around the tiny bathroom in her fur trimmed Ugg boots. The soft, stretchy fabric of her jeggings- the bastard love child of jeans and leggings- felt weird as it rubbed over her bare crotch and butt. Finally, the tight material settled just right on her slender frame. She tugged down her bright turquoise sweater-tunic and smoothed it in place. She turned, checking herself in the mirror above the sink. The thick, knitted wool covered her butt, hiding her freshly un-padded bottom from view.
“Perfect. The old hag will never be able to tell.” She smirked and tossed the unused purple with pink butterflies printed pull-up into the garbage, hiding it under layers of used, balled up paper towels just in case her mother decided to check the bathroom in suspicion of just such a stunt.
Reila put her hand on the door, hesitating for a second with a nagging sense of guilt. What if her mother lifted her shirt to make sure she still had her protection on? Given the last few months, Reila wouldn’t have put it past her. But in a crowded airport? No, not even her mother was that insane. She pushed the door open.
Eight hours was a long flight. What if she fell asleep and wet herself, as she had been doing every time she dozed off? She bit her lip, tempted to go back in, fish her pull up out of the trash and put it back on. Planes had toilets. She’d just have to remember to go a lot so her stupid, malfunctioning bladder stayed empty.
She stepped out and was immediately accosted by her mother.
“Took you a while.” Sonja stared at her daughter, pursing her red lips in displeasure.
“I had to take a shit.” Reila fired back at her mom’s suspicious accusation. She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m eighteen, not two. You can trust me.”
“Yet you wear the same undergarments as a two year old and act just like one. After your recent escapades, you’ve lost my trust. You’re doing a poor job of earning it back. Even the judge saw fit to strip you of your adult status. Need I remind you that just days after court. One more screw up and it’s straight up the river for you.” Sonja’s eyes narrowed at the back talk as she stared Reila down.
Reila’s defiant glare gradually withered to a sulky pout under her mother’s cool, firm disapproval.
Sonja was at her wit’s end with the girl. Barely an adult, yet she’d racked up a laundry list of misdemeanors and law violations long enough to do any hardened criminal proud. Just like her absent father. Sonja encouraged Reila’s spunky spirit, knowing it would help her get through tough times in life. Sonja could have used a little more spunk and backbone in her own childhood. Maybe then she wouldn’t have married young to a man who turned out to be a murderous loser that ended up in prison for life.
Reila had gotten into fights in preschool and elementary school. Middle school saw her skipping school and taking up smoking. High school was full of underage drinking, unsupervised parties, and smoking pot. Reila progressed to breaking and entering , vandalizing school property for a senior prank. Even though she was not a senior. She should have been, but all that hookie and sleeping in class led to her flunking junior year. This year she should be graduating, but she was repeating her junior year instead. Then came the sex tapes on the internet. The proverbial cherry on top was her getting arrested for shop-lifting lingerie at the mall.
The judge, being lenient with youth offenders and in the spirit of the Christmas season, gave Reila one last chance to clean up her act. He gave Sonja legal custody of her, declaring Reila unfit to run her own life Next stop for her was prison or one of those new Regression Therapy discipline camps for youth offenders designed to turn troublesome youth into moral, upright citizens.
“There’s a line of people waiting for the bathroom.” Reila said sulkily, lowering her gaze to her mother’s scuffed, off brand boots. Sonja, a single mother, did her best to give Reila the name brand things she liked. Right now, she just wanted her mother to stop staring at her.
“Because you were holding it up. You’d better still have your diaper on.” Sonja hissed in a loud voice then swept past for her turn in the bathroom.
“They’re pull-ups, not diapers!” Reila retorted just as loud as the door closed in her face. She was suddenly aware of eyes on her; her eyes scanned the airport crowd. Those nearby stared incredulously at her- the pretty, fashionable young lady loudly proclaiming her pull-ups were not diapers. Meeting her gaze, most on lookers looked away in embarrassment but some continued to stare. Few smirked in amusement.
Her cheeks flamed red as Rudolph’s nose and she ducked behind a nearby pillar. Why did the airport have to be so damn crowded? It was only the first week of December. Not holiday travel time, even though that’s what she and her mother were doing. Her mother with the embarrassingly loud mouth. Life just loved to take a big, steamy shit on her.
All she wanted was to have a little fun, to live her own life. She never hurt anyone. Yet the judge saw fit to turn her back into a child just for a little harmless pick-pocketing. Her mother had breathing down her throat ever since she was arrested and released.
On top of that, her bladder had been acting up since she woke up in the hospital several months ago. She’d gotten her stomach pumped after passing out due to a cocktail of various alcoholic drinks and funny shaped pills. Maybe a line or two of cocaine, she didn’t really remember. Those were the best parties- the ones she couldn’t remember. Pure bliss. Now, her life was pure piss. Wet bed every fucking night since she’d woken up in the hospital. Pissing herself during the day, too. Like when that cute cop handcuffed her. Or when she peed herself standing in front of that bastard judge. In a bizarre way, wet pants, along with her baby face, had helped convince the judge to be lenient with her.
All these accidents were just flukes. Nerves. Stress. The doctor had said something about street drugs being laced with other shit and unpredictable side effects, but what did that stupid bitch know? Reila did NOT need diapers. Pull-ups. She’d show them all she could keep her pants dry.